bookpower Chapter 192
Chapter 192
Ethan kept staring at the message on his phone, his jaw tightening. A football game tonight. He hadn't even realized it was scheduled. "Damn it,"
he thought, running a hand through his hair. His body was still battered from the accident, muscles sore, and every movement reminded him of how close he'd come to death.
If not for the king cobra power he would have been dead by now.
But the real problem wasn't his injuries. If he showed up at the game, word would spread like wildfire that he was alive.
It wouldn't take long for the assassin to hear about it and come back for him.
Not that Ethan feared them—he didn't. But the thought of more innocent people getting caught in the crossfire, like the taxi driver, made his stomach twist.
At that moment his thumb hovered over the message for a moment before he let out a quiet sigh.
"Not this time," he muttered to himself. He set the phone down on the table, leaning back in his chair as he stared at the ceiling.
"Stay low for now,"
he told himself.
"Just until I bring the Silver family down." Explore stories on My Virtual Library Empire
The decision was made. Ethan wouldn't respond to the message. He wouldn't go to school or play tonight. There were bigger battles ahead, and this time, he couldn't afford any mistakes.
At that moment the dimly lit warehouse buzzed with activity as more members of Ethan's gang filed in. Word had spread quickly—stories of Ethan's actions after the accident, how he had taken care of the families of those who died that day, had reached ears far and wide. Old faces returned, and new recruits showed up, eager to prove their loyalty.
The gang was growing, a movement fueled by respect and belief in Ethan's leadership.
"If they find me, the whole plan collapses, and I don't want any of that to happen, it's going to be surprised visit, they won't know what happened to them."
he thought.
After giving it enough thought there was only one place left where he could lay low: his grandmother's house. It was secluded, and nobody there knew who he really was.
Pulling out his phone, Ethan dialed the head of his car company. The line clicked almost instantly. "Deliver a car to me. Now," Ethan ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Yes, Mr. Ethan. Right away," came the quick reply.
Within the hour, the car arrived—a sleek, polished vehicle that seemed to hum with power.
Ethan slid behind the wheel, the engine roaring to life as he drove through the quiet streets toward his grandmother's place.
The journey was uneventful, giving him time to think, though his mind felt weighed down by everything he'd been juggling, first he can't bring anyone back again, he had already used that.
When he pulled into the driveway, Ethan's brow furrowed. A Bugatti Centodieci gleamed under the garage lights, its presence impossible to ignore.
"A visitor?"
he thought, stepping out of the car cautiously.
The house felt unusually quiet as he entered. His grandmother's voice carried faintly from the living room, but it was another sound that caught his attention. A man's voice, shaky and filled with reverence, echoed through the house.
"Please, Mother," the man said, his words trembling with desperation.
Ethan rounded the corner and froze. The man was on his knees, kowtowing before his grandmother, his forehead nearly touching the floor. The sight stopped Ethan in his tracks, his eyes narrowing as he tried to piece together what was happening. Mother? The word rang in his head like a question he didn't yet have an answer for.