Ethan Sullivan's voice dripped with ice.
"Let him know. It changes nothing."
"Just another bastard child. Kill this one, and countless others will crawl out of the woodwork."
He had long abandoned any hope for the man he once called father.
A glacial light flickered in Ethan's eyes as palpable murderous intent radiated from him. That baseball bat swing had been delivered with full force.
Zachary Sullivan now lay crumpled on the floor, too broken to even twitch.
The room fell deathly silent.
No one had expected Ethan to strike so viciously in plain sight.
"Ethan! Have you lost your mind?"
Amelia Sullivan turned ashen at his bloodthirsty demeanor.
All pretense of aristocratic grace forgotten, she stumbled toward her son.
"My boy! If anything happens to you, how will I go on living..."
Tears streamed down Amelia's face as she cradled Zachary.
She whirled toward the elderly butler, shrieking, "Charles! Stop gawking and fetch a doctor! Get Howard down here to see what his eldest has done!"
Amelia's mind raced—this was the perfect opportunity to destroy Ethan's reputation. The famously composed heir had publicly assaulted his half-brother. Howard would be livid.
Zachary groaned through gritted teeth.
"Mother! My spine must be shattered!"
He shot Ethan a venomous glare.
"Just wait until Father arrives. We'll see how high and mighty you act then!"
Clenching his fists, Zachary resisted the urge to retaliate now. He needed to endure until Howard witnessed Ethan's brutality firsthand.
Sophia Sullivan and Ian exchanged glances, sensing the theatrical performance unfolding.
The mother-son duo was clearly staging a scene.
The butler hesitated, looking to Ethan for guidance. "Young Master..."
"By all means, summon him."
Ethan adjusted his cuffs with deliberate calm.
"Perhaps he'd like to explain why surveillance footage shows these two at the docks when Emma and I were attacked—yet they feigned ignorance afterward."
His measured tone carried lethal weight.
That piercing upward glance made Amelia's blood run cold.
She nearly lost her footing.
"This... this is all a misunderstanding!"
Amelia frantically reviewed that day's events. She'd personally erased all security footage—how could evidence remain?
Even if footage existed, without concrete proof, no charges could stick.
"Ethan, Zachary merely accompanied me to the golf course near the docks that day. We heard nothing unusual."
Amelia forced composure into her voice.
"My negligence, truly. Had I noticed anything amiss, I'd have sent help immediately."
Zachary's eyes darted nervously.
"Exactly! Don't you dare frame us!"
Agony lanced through him as he spoke.
Ethan had clearly aimed to kill with that strike.
This humiliation demanded vengeance.
"Mother! When Father gets here, I'll—"
SMACK!
A stinging slap silenced him.
Zachary reeled, vision swimming.
Raised as the pampered heir who must surpass Ethan at all costs, he'd never once been struck by his doting mother.
How could this slap land on his cheek?