Chapter 9 He Is Not Tempted By Money

If Ethan actually accepted the money, it would be utterly humiliating. At the same time, Tristan would surely assume it was all part of his "test" and would cling on relentlessly afterward. Just as Tristan was pushing the check toward him, Rebecca called out, her voice sharp and firm. Ethan's hand, which had been halfway extended, froze midair. "Hurry up and take the money, then get lost," Tristan said, his tone dripping with disdain. His voice dropped slightly, carrying a veiled threat. "Otherwise, don't blame me for being unpleasant." The smugness in his voice was palpable. But after a brief pause, Ethan reached out and took the check. Rebecca's face fell immediately. The disappointment was written all over her expression. Meanwhile, Tristan's grin stretched wider. Rebecca felt deeply disappointed as she watched Ethan accept Tristan's money, and it showed clearly on her face. Unable to contain her frustration, she reached out and pinched a sensitive spot at Ethan's waist, twisting the flesh between her fingers with surprising force. "You're embarrassing me!" she hissed under her breath. Ethan winced, barely managing to suppress a groan. This woman's grip is no joke, he thought to himself. He gritted his teeth, a flicker of irritation sparking in his mind. How dare you pinch your husband like that? Just wait. I'll have you kneeling on the bed and begging for mercy later." "Poor loser. Now that you've got the money, can you leave already?" Ethan smirked, holding up the check between two fingers and giving it a flick. "15,000? Not bad at all," he said casually. Then his voice turned sharp, his tone dripping with mockery. "But you're trying to win over my wife with just 15,000? Really? That's laughable. If you're going to compete with me, at least bring something decent to the table. Trying to impress women while being a broke loser? You're the one who's truly embarrassing." After he finished speaking, he flicked the check straight back at Tristan's face with a cold sneer. "What did you just say?" Tristan was stunned. He hadn't expected to be insulted so brazenly, called a broke loser by none other than Ethan. His face darkened with rage. "He said you're a broke loser. Didn't you hear him?" Rebecca quipped with a smug smile, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she watched Ethan's bold defiance. Go on, keep tearing each other apart, she thought, quietly reveling in the escalating drama. "D*mn it! How dare you call me a broke loser? Get the hell out of here, now!" Tristan snarled, his face livid as he jabbed a trembling finger at Ethan. His teeth ground audibly as he spat the words out. "Leave! Unless you're asking to die, get lost this instant!" At the same time, several lackeys beside Tristan had already taken out switchblades from their pockets and started playing with them. "Hey, don't do anything reckless! Not here!" Rebecca's smug demeanor wavered as panic crept into her voice. She hadn't expected things to escalate to this point. No matter how infuriating Ethan could be, he had saved her once before. The thought of him getting hurt or worse because of her made her chest tighten. "Tristan, tell your guys to put those knives away right now!" she said anxiously. But Tristan only grinned. "Sure, I'll call them off if you make him leave right now and agree to be my woman. Otherwise…" His eyes flicked to Ethan, and his grin widened cruelly. "I'll make sure he leaves here with a few holes in him." "You're disgusting!" Rebecca couldn't help but curse when she heard the remark. "Mr. Xenon, let me give you a friendly piece of advice. With your pale complexion and unsteady gait, you're showing all the classic signs of kidney deficiency or, as we say, 'performance issues.' Honestly, you might want to save yourself the embarrassment and just leave." Facing Tristan's threats, Ethan remained unfazed, wearing a smirk that only added fuel to the fire. "You little punk! How dare you insult Mr. Xenon? Are you looking for death?" "Yeah, let's teach him a lesson!" one of Tristan's lackeys chimed in, his voice dripping with aggression. "We'll make sure he remembers this for the rest of his life!" Tristan, clearly enraged by the repeated insults, clenched his fists and gave a sharp nod. Being called frail and impotent, on top of the earlier mockery about his supposed poverty, was more than his ego could tolerate. The lackeys didn't need to be told twice. One of them pulled out a small knife and began advancing toward Ethan with a menacing grin. What followed was a chaotic eruption of noise. "Ah! Ahhh!" Rebecca's terrified screams echoed through the spacious villa as the scuffle unfolded before her eyes. "Zemo, do you think that guy's going to get it bad by Tristan?" one of them asked anxiously. "No doubt about it," Zemo replied with a nod. "Tristan's not the kind of guy to back down. He's known for his hot temper and quick fists." "Yeah, his lackeys are no joke either. Remember when we tried to stop them last time? We ended up getting beaten black and blue," another added. "Exactly. That guy doesn't stand a chance. He's in for a rough night," Zemo concluded grimly, shaking his head as the sounds of the altercation continued to spill out of the villa. The muffled screams from inside the villa caught the attention of the security guards stationed outside. They exchanged curious glances, muttering among themselves. They all agreed that Ethan was probably getting beaten to a pulp in there. "You, wait and see. I will definitely kill you." But just as Zemo and the others assumed Ethan would emerge battered and bruised, they were stunned to see Tristan stumbling out instead, supported by a few of his lackeys. His face was swollen and discolored, and his gait was shaky at best. When he reached the doorway, he spun around, pointing back inside and shouting curses with venom. No sooner had he finished than Ethan appeared in the doorway. "Scram," he said coldly. Tristan and his men froze for a moment, then scurried off without another word. They didn't even dare to look back. Stunned silence fell over Zemo and his group as they watched. Their jaws practically dropped. They knew Tristan's lackeys well. They had fought those guys before and could never come close to beating them. Yet here was Ethan, single-handedly sending all of them fleeing in disgrace. The sheer force of his ability was chilling. At that moment, Zemo and the others couldn't help but feel grateful they hadn't confronted him directly earlier. If they had, their fate might have mirrored Tristan's miserable retreat. As they watched Tristan and his lackeys scurry off with battered faces, Zemo and his crew couldn't suppress a surge of satisfaction. It felt like someone had finally avenged them, giving them a deep sense of vindication.