Ethan Storm’s Dark Awakening novel Chapter 17

The gangsters had gathered around Ethan, thinking they had him cornered. Their laughter echoed through the quiet street, but it was more than just the thrill of the moment. To them, capturing Ethan would mean glory, and possibly a high position under Martin Irving’s command. They could already taste the rewards—the power, the wealth, and the status.

The leader of the group, the one with the scarred face, couldn’t contain his glee. “You think you’re so tough, huh? Well, here’s your chance to prove it!” He grinned, his voice dripping with malicious amusement. “We already got the woman who hurt Young Master Carl. Now it’s your turn.”

Ethan’s jaw clenched at the mention of Alice. His eyes narrowed into cold slits, his voice low but dangerous. “Alice,” he demanded, his fists tightening. “Where is she?”

The men smirked, enjoying his obvious discomfort. The lanky thug with the crooked nose, who had been standing a little farther back, sauntered forward, his grin wide. “Oh, she’s already been dealt with,” he sneered. “She’s probably already been stripped and tossed into Master Martin’s bed by now. He’s been waiting for her, you know. Once he’s done with her, well… the others might get their turn.”

Ethan’s world seemed to stop. His hands trembled with rage, and his muscles coiled as if preparing to spring. His eyes flicked from one thug to the other, but it was the leader he focused on. “You’re lying,” he growled, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, no. No, we’re not,” the leader replied, his grin widening. “In fact, you’re about to find out just how much fun Master Martin’s about to have with her. If we’re lucky, we might get a chance to join in. But only after we deal with you, of course.”

That was it. Ethan’s fury, which had been simmering beneath the surface, exploded. In a blur of motion, he leaped out of his car, knocking the first thug into the parked car next to them with a single punch. The others scrambled back in shock as Ethan’s rage took over. He moved with brutal efficiency, disarming one thug before knocking him unconscious. Another was sent flying into a tree with a crushing blow to his chest.

The leader, seeing the chaos unfold in front of him, staggered back, his face draining of color. “W-Wait!” he stammered, his voice high-pitched with fear. “Please, no! We were just having a little fun!”

Ethan’s eyes gleamed with an unspoken promise of destruction. He grabbed the leader by the collar, lifting him off the ground. “Where is Martin Irving’s villa?” Ethan’s voice was deathly calm, but the threat was clear.

The thug’s face twisted in terror as he gasped for air. “I-I don’t know where to start… I—” He froze, as if realizing the gravity of his situation. With a trembling hand, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket. “Here. I’ll tell you. Just don’t kill me!”

Ethan took the paper without a word, crumpling it into his fist. Without another glance at the group of groaning men, he turned and stormed off toward his car.

The gangsters, all still recovering from the unexpected assault, could only watch as Ethan’s engine roared to life, disappearing down the road toward Martin’s villa.

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