The entire ballroom froze in stunned silence.

Every guest stared in disbelief at the man standing protectively behind me.


"E-Ethan Lawrence?"

"My God! Wasn't he in a coma? When did he recover?"

"He's standing! And he looks… formidable!"


The most shocked were Henry on stage, alongside Zachary and Luna, whose faces had drained of all color.

Zachary's jaw hung open, his finger pointing shakily at Ethan, unable to form a coherent word.


Luna trembled violently, not even registering the pain from her captured wrist.

Ethan ignored the collective shock, his gaze fixed on Luna with glacial intensity.

"I'll ask again—who exactly do you want to destroy?" he repeated.

His overwhelming presence made Luna crumble instantly.

"I—I didn't mean—I wasn't—" she stammered, tears mixing with champagne on her face, looking utterly pathetic.

Ethan released her wrist with visible disgust, as if touching something contaminated.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, meticulously wiped his hand, then dropped the cloth at her feet.

The gesture was devastatingly dismissive.

Then he turned to me, his expression transforming.

The ice in his eyes melted into something almost tender.

He raised his hand to brush my cheek, his voice still rough but surprisingly gentle.

"Are you alright?"

I shook my head, meeting his gaze as unexpected emotion tightened my throat.

"I'm fine."

"Good." He took my hand, positioning me slightly behind him before raising his eyes to survey the room with predatory focus.

Finally, his gaze locked onto Zachary.

"My dear brother," he said, his lips curving into a dangerous smile, "seeing me awake seems to… displease you?"

Zachary flinched visibly, hands fluttering nervously. "N-no! Of course not! Brother, I'm—I'm thrilled! Absolutely thrilled!"

"Are you?" Ethan advanced toward him with measured steps.

With each step Ethan took forward, Zachary stumbled backward, like prey before a predator.

Ethan stopped directly before him.

He towered over Zachary, looking down with an innate dominance that made his brother visibly quake.

"Too overcome with joy to speak properly?" Ethan patted Zachary's cheek with mock affection, the force behind it clearly painful. "These two years must have been difficult. Tell me, how comfortable was my chair?"

Zachary's face turned a sickly purple.

"Brother, I—I was only temporarily filling in—"

"Filling in?" Ethan chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth. "Strange, I heard you were already arranging for Father to name you his permanent successor."

Cold sweat poured down Zachary's face.

"That's a lie! Just malicious rumors! You can't believe that, Brother!"

"Is it?" Ethan turned toward Henry on the stage. "Father, care to comment?"

Henry's expression was a complex mixture of emotions. He stared at his resurrected heir, his mouth working silently before he finally sighed.

"Ethan, you've just recovered. Your health should be your priority. We can discuss business matters at home."

"Home?" Ethan smiled coldly. "Father, this is my home too. And with so many witnesses present, I think certain matters should be clarified immediately."

He paused, his voice dropping to a dangerous register.

"For instance, my so-called 'accident' two years ago."

His words detonated like a bomb in the silent room.

Every guest held their breath.

Zachary's face turned deathly white.

Ethan turned back to him, his dark eyes boring into his brother's.

"Zachary, my car, someone tampered with the brakes. Do you know anything about this?"