Chapter 194: Ethan’s Raging Fury
Ethan sat alone in the darkened room of Alexander’s penthouse. The only light came from the dim glow of the city outside, reflecting off the massive portrait of his father hanging on the wall. The image seemed to mock him—a constant reminder of everything he’d lost, everything he’d failed to protect.
Anger, frustration, and grief mixed in his chest, coiling tighter with every breath. His mind kept circling back to one person: Xavier. The cause of his downfall, the one who took everything from him.
The silence of the room was broken by the sudden ring of the doorbell. Ethan frowned and walked over to the comms system, tapping the screen.
His eyes widened in shock when he saw the caller ID. It was Maximilian Hart.
"Open it," Ethan muttered, his voice cold but laced with curiosity.
The door slid open, and Maximilian stumbled in, looking like a man who had just survived hell. His clothes were torn, dirt smeared over them, and his fair hair was tangled, coated with unknown substances. His skin bore bruises and abrasions, his expression haunted.
"I... I was robbed," Maximilian croaked out, his voice hoarse and trembling. "Beaten. Left for dead. Everything... everything’s gone."
Ethan’s eyes narrowed as he observed the scene, but there was no sympathy.
"Go take a shower," Ethan said, his tone firm. "Wear my clothes after. They’ll fit you fine."
Maximilian hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Can you order something to eat and drink for me? I’m... exhausted."
Ethan didn’t respond with words but simply nodded.
Without another word, Maximilian staggered off toward the bathroom, leaving Ethan alone once more.
The weight of everything hung in the air as Ethan stared back at his father’s portrait, his fists clenched tighter. His hatred for Xavier burned brighter than ever.
A while later, Maxmillian stepped out looking way too fresh, wearing Ethan’s clothes like they belonged to him. His hair was neatly combed, his shirt barely wrinkled, and the way he carried himself was full of that cocky attitude, like nothing in the world could touch him.
"Where’s the food?" Maxmillian asked, voice sharp, eyes scanning the place as if it was some five-star hotel.
Ethan didn’t lift his eyes from the dark corner where he sat, arms crossed, cold as ever. "Fridge. Heat it up yourself."
Maxmillian’s jaw tightened, pissed off, but he didn’t argue. Didn’t need to. The look on his face said it all.
"If you don’t like it, starve," Ethan added, with that same blunt, pissed tone.
Maxmillian went straight to the fridge, grabbed whatever was left, heated it up, and returned without a word. He sat down in front of Ethan, hungrily digging in like the world owed him the meal.
Ethan stared at him, his eyes heavy, filled with a mix of anger and bitter realization. Their lives—completely fucked, all thanks to Xavier.
After a few long seconds, Ethan broke the silence. "Why the fuck did you come here?" His voice was low but sharp. "You’re wanted by the police, running from them. You don’t wanna get caught in the middle of my revenge plan."
Maxmillian chewed slowly, deliberate, then swallowed. His eyes met Ethan’s without hesitation.
"The police won’t arrest me," he said, voice steady like he was stating a damn fact. "As a matter of fact, they were the ones who helped me escape."
Ethan froze for a second. He didn’t expect that.
Maxmillian smirked. "They’re just pretending. All of it’s a show, ’cause the higher-ups are breathing down their necks."
"Why would they help you?" Ethan asked, his voice tight. "Your father’s dead. They should be hunting you like you’re garbage."
Maxmillian’s smirk turned darker. "Because the whole city branch is rotten. Corrupt as fuck. My father left behind blackmail material. All the shit—evidence on cops, politicians, everyone."
He leaned back, looking proud of the weight his words carried.
"I told them straight up—if they arrest me, I’ll drag them all down with me."
Maxmillian licked his lips. "So now they play the game. Keep me safe. Make it look like they’re chasing me, while really making sure I don’t expose them."
Ethan sat back, the truth sinking deep. This wasn’t just revenge anymore. It was a fucking war.
Ethan stared at Maxmillian, his eyes cold, full of suspicion. "So... you’re here to kill me?"
Maxmillian raised an eyebrow, like Ethan asked the dumbest question on earth. "Why the fuck would I do that?" His voice was steady, like he didn’t give a shit. "What the hell would I get from it?"
"Because your father’s dead," Ethan said, his voice getting sharper. "And my father... shot your father."
Maxmillian sighed, like it was the most boring thing he’d ever heard. "I don’t give a shit about that," he said. "I don’t hold a grudge."
Then he added, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It was all Xavier’s plan."
Ethan froze for a moment, trying to process the words.
Maxmillian leaned back, acting way too calm, almost like he enjoyed seeing Ethan struggle to keep up. "You remember that video? The one where I shot Leonardo in the head? Blew up everywhere. Everyone saw it."
His smirk darkened.
"But that wasn’t me. Not really," Maxmillian said. "Xavier was there. Somehow, he twisted my hand motion and I shot Leo in the head instead."
"At that time, I kept wondering if I really missed and shot him, but now I know what had happened." Maxmillian let the words sink in, then added, "Same shit with my father. Xavier did the exact same thing."
Ethan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had blamed Xavier for everything—his father dead, his life falling apart—but never in his wildest thoughts did he expect Xavier had directly manipulated the moment that killed Dominic and his own father.
His fury built up, stronger than ever. Hatred heavier, sharper. Xavier wasn’t just some asshole who destroyed their lives... he was the one who controlled every fucked-up piece of it.
Now all Ethan wanted was to see Xavier burn.