The Urban Sovereign Returns

Episode 2

The scent of alcohol and expensive perfume still hung heavy in the air of the Grand Crystal Hotel’s private dining room. After the honoured guests had departed, the atmosphere, far from softening, became increasingly suffocating for Clara Thorne. Opposite her, Jasper Wang sat casually, sipping decades-old wine as if he were already a member of the family.

Ethan? He was still standing in the corner, clutching a napkin already damp from wiping down the tables. There was no seat for him at this long dining table.

"Mum, must Ethan stand there like a statue? He hasn't eaten either," Clara whispered, her voice hoarse with suppressed emotion.

Martha Thorne didn't even glance at Ethan. She was preoccupied with applying her red lipstick in a small mirror. "Eat? Rubbish like him would only ruin his digestion if given five-star hotel food. Besides, he’s already performed his duties as a servant. Let him know his place."

"Aunt Martha is right, Clara," Jasper interjected, smiling faintly, his arrogant gaze settling on the bowed head of Ethan. "This world has a hierarchy. And your husband... well, he’s on the very bottom rung."

A small burst of laughter erupted from Aunt Serena and Aunt Maria, Clara’s two aunts who most adored worshipping wealth.

"Honestly, Clara, we’re all getting headaches just looking at him," Aunt Serena said, fiddling with her pearl necklace. "Your construction company is shaky, debts are piling up, and what did your husband bring tonight? A dull stone?"

"It’s not just dull, it’s an insult!" Aunt Maria retorted. "Look at Jasper. He’s offering a business alliance that could save the Thorne Family from bankruptcy overnight. All it takes is one signature, Clara. A signature on the divorce papers."

Clara’s blood seemed to stop flowing. She stared at her mother with disbelief. "Mum... so this was the purpose of all this?"

Martha slammed her mirror down with a sharp thud. Her eyes flashed fiercely. "Don't play the innocent, Clara! You need capital. Wang Corp has that capital. If you divorce this unemployed parasite and marry Jasper, our future is secured. I refuse to end up living in some cheap flat just because you insist on stubbornly keeping this socially inept son-in-law!"

"I will not divorce Ethan," Clara insisted, though her hands were trembling beneath the table. Why were they all so blind? Ethan never asked for anything; he was always there, waiting for me to come home every night...

Jasper Wang cleared his throat, sliding his chair slightly closer to Clara. The sharp scent of his cologne made Clara feel nauseous.

"Clara, listen to me. Love can’t build a foundation for a building. That Central Plaza project you’re working on? I have the access to sabotage its logistics if you refuse. But, if you become my fiancée, raw materials will be overflowing in your warehouse by tomorrow morning."

"Is that a threat, Jasper?" Clara asked, her voice rising.

"No, darling. It’s business reality," Jasper chuckled, then turned to Ethan, who was still frozen in the corner. "Hey, Ethan! You heard that, didn't you? Are you a man, or at least I hope you have some shred of dignity left. Look at your wife; she’s crying because you can offer nothing but poverty."

Ethan lifted his face slightly. His gaze was cold, cutting across the room towards Jasper. There was an awkward silence for several seconds. For a moment, Jasper felt as though he was being stared down by a highly dangerous predator, but he quickly dismissed the feeling.

"If Clara wishes to leave, she is free to do so," Ethan said in an utterly flat, almost unemotional tone.

"See!" Martha shrieked triumphantly. "He’s not even fighting for you, Clara! He knows he’s just a parasite! Get those papers sorted tomorrow!"

"That’s enough!" Clara stood up, her chair scraping harshly across the marble floor. "This gathering is over. I’m going home."

Without waiting for a reply, Clara grabbed her bag and walked quickly towards the exit. Ethan followed silently behind her, ignoring the jeers and contemptuous laughter of the extended Thorne family that still echoed in the room.

By the time they reached the front yard of the Thorne family home, it was very late. The cold air bit to the bone. Clara walked into the living room without saying a word to Ethan. Her heart was a turmoil of pride, the burden of the company, and a deep sense of pity for her husband.

Ethan was just about to step inside when his movement halted. Ahead of him, Martha Thorne was standing in front of the door to their ground-floor bedroom—a small room that looked more like a renovated storage closet.

"What do you want?" Martha asked coldly.

"I want to rest, Mum," Ethan replied quietly.

"Rest? In my house? After humiliating me in front of all those important colleagues?" Martha snorted in disgust. With a rough movement, she entered the room, pulled Ethan’s pillow and bolster from the bed, and threw them onto the outside patio.

Thud!

The slightly worn white pillow landed on the dusty cement floor.

"Tonight, you sleep in the back gazebo! Don’t soil my floors with those filthy servant’s feet of yours," Martha snapped.

"Mum! What are you doing?" Clara appeared from the hallway, her eyes red from holding back tears.

"Teaching him a lesson, Clara! Don’t even try to defend him if you still want to see your company breathing tomorrow morning!" Martha then slammed the bedroom door shut, locking it from the inside, leaving a chilling silence between the husband and wife.

Clara looked at Ethan with overwhelming guilt. Her lips trembled, yet she could not defy her mother’s orders any further tonight without risking the life of her company.

"Ethan... I..."

"It’s alright, Clara," Ethan cut in softly. He bent down, picked up his pillow from the floor, and brushed off the clinging dust with a steady hand. "The night air is good for clearing the mind."

Ethan turned towards the back door. His shadow stretched long beneath the dim patio light. Clara could only stand frozen, watching the back of the man who, for three years, had never complained despite being treated like a guard dog.

However, when Ethan reached the dark gazebo behind the house, he did not immediately lie down. He reached into his shirt pocket, pulling out a small gold coin bearing the symbol of a tiger’s head, which seemed to gleam even in the darkness.

Ethan pressed the side of the coin, and instantly, a thin holographic screen sprang forth from a hidden communicator device.

"Sovereign... is the seal ready to be released?" a respectful baritone voice sounded from the device.

Ethan looked towards his wife’s room, whose ventilation light had just been extinguished. His gaze changed, cooling to freezing point.

"Wang Corp," Ethan hissed softly. "I want a full report on all of Jasper Wang’s assets in my hands within the hour. And inform Xander... I want to see who dares to threaten my wife’s logistics supply."

"Understood, Your Excellency. The command will be executed immediately."

Ethan deactivated the device. He lay back on the hard wooden bench, staring up at the stars. His promise to his master to live a quiet life had ended at the filthy feet of the Thorne family tonight. The tiger was no longer sleeping; it had just opened its eyes.