Chapter 81: Chapter 81: Welcome to the Mansion
Ethan looked down at the Landlord, who was immobilized and whimpering under Jason’s boot, his arm clearly dislocated.
"Let him go," Ethan commanded, his voice still low and satiated. "Let him run away for good."
Jason nodded, pulling his foot back. He grabbed the Landlord’s good arm and hauled the man out of the building, tossing him roughly onto the sidewalk before returning inside.
Ethan turned his attention back to Cassandra, who was sprawled out on the couch, exhausted but satisfied. He began to stroke her perfect buttock, his hand moving carelessly over the firm flesh.
"You shouldn’t have done that, Ethan," Cassandra said, her voice weak but serious. "He was still my husband, despite everything. And that idiot... he has contacts with the Dukes of Dorchester. The gangsters who were running things here."
"The Dukes of Dorchester?" Ethan scoffed, still running his hand over her buttock. "The thugs who were emptying my apartment? I’m not afraid of them, Cassandra. If they dare to come looking for him, I wouldn’t mind sending them all back in a coffin."
Jason returned, his face impassive. "Boss, I apologize for not preventing his entry. I was securing the perimeter."
Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. "Don’t apologize, Jason. It was better this way. He got a show and a permanent reminder."
"That’s true," Cassandra agreed, her spirits lifting. She pushed herself up slightly. "Do what you want, Ethan. Either way, I trust you, and as far as I’m concerned, that damn fatty can die once and for all."
Ethan and Jason laughed at her fierce declaration.
[She is highly motivated, Champion! A great asset! Note: Revenge sex is extremely effective for loyalty. I should start calculating bonuses for emotional trauma inflicted on third parties!] The System mused enthusiastically.
"I’ll stay outside, Boss," Jason said, glancing pointedly at Cassandra, who was still gloriously naked beside Ethan. "Give you some privacy."
"No, don’t bother," Ethan replied, pulling Cassandra into a sitting position beside him. "We’re leaving soon, too. We have things to do."
Cassandra’s face fell slightly. "You’re leaving. I can’t stay here until everything is resolved, Ethan. I’m afraid those Dukes will come back for revenge or to finish the job that fat bastard started."
"Then come with us," Ethan offered simply. "I have plenty of room at my new place. It’s a mansion. You should see it."
Cassandra stared at him, the fear battling the disbelief. "A mansion... are you serious? But..."
"No ’buts,’ Cassandra. You’re coming with me," Ethan insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Alright," she said, surrendering completely. "Let’s go."
They began to get dressed and quickly pack Cassandra’s essential belongings—a small duffel bag of clothes and some documents.
[You know, for someone who just made millions, you’re packing awfully light, Champion. Where’s the spending spree?] The System complained internally, annoyed at the lack of immediate decadence.
"We’ll buy everything new," Ethan thought back firmly.
As they reached the lobby, Jason, who had stepped out to bring the car around, quickly returned, his hand gripping the assault rifle that had been confiscated from the Congressman’s guard and stored in the trunk. His eyes were cold.
"Boss, we have problems," Jason announced quietly. "About six men just showed up outside. They look like the Dukes. They’re coming straight for the entrance."
"Six men, Jason?" Ethan raised an eyebrow, a cruel smile forming. "That’s hardly a proper welcoming committee."
Ethan took the news of the ambush calmly. He turned to Cassandra, his hand still resting possessively on her hip.
"Wait here," he told her. "And one question: if I killed your husband right now, would you be sad?"
Cassandra’s satisfied smile widened. "Nothing would make me happier, Ethan."
[See, Champion? Nothing is more terrifying than a scorned woman! They are the true source of chaos in the universe. Note that down.] The System quipped, clearly impressed.
Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. "Stay put. We’ll be right back."
[So, Champion, are you finally going to use your ’Harder Than Steel’ ability and your ass-kicking boxing? Let’s break some bones!] The System urged excitedly in Ethan’s mind.
"No, it’s not time for Superman to show up," Ethan replied mentally, his voice hardening slightly. "But if these idiots don’t learn their place, we’ll have no choice but to show them why roses are red."
Ethan stepped out of the apartment, Jason covering the rear with the assault rifle held loosely but ready.
The scene outside had escalated quickly. There weren’t six men; there were more than twenty gathered in the street. They were a motley crew, the Dukes of Dorchester, a mix of hardened veterans and young thugs. They carried bats, knives, and various crude weapons, but several proudly displayed their 9mm pistols tucked into their waistbands.
In the center, next to the whimpering, dislocated Landlord, stood their leader. He was a powerfully built man with a permanent scowl and scars mapping his face.
"Mr. Santiago," Jason murmured, identifying the boss.
The moment they saw Ethan and his guard holding an automatic rifle, the Dukes snapped to high alert. Hands went to weapons, and a tense silence fell.
"Who the hell are you? This is our territory! You mess with the Landlord, you mess with the Dukes! And you owe me rent, bastard!"
Ethan stopped a few feet from the line of thugs, his posture radiating cool confidence that bordered on arrogance. He didn’t raise his voice.
"You can stop the theatrics" Ethan said dismissively. "I just bought this building. And the debt you’re owed? It’s gone. As for your territory, it now belongs to me."
The group erupted in confused murmurs. Santiago’s face darkened with rage.
"You bought the building? That fat piece of shit can’t sell what’s ours! You get out now, or my boys will make sure you leave in pieces!"
"You’re making a terrible business decision," Ethan sighed, looking bored. "I’m giving you a chance to walk away alive and with cash." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the menacing crowd. "Jason, break that fat pig’s other arm. Just a warning."