Ex Wife's Collapse After Divorce novel Chapter 92

Chapter 92

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But Marcus didn’t give him time to ask. Another punch came in fast, then an elbow, then a knee aimed straight for Ethan’s ribs.

Ethan stepped back and blocked.

He raised his forearm. The impact thudded into bone. Marcus followed instantly, pressing hard, fast, aggressive. He fought well. Better than Rocco by far. Cleaner, sharper, more trained.

Still, Ethan only defended.

He caught Marcus’s wrist, pushed the strike away, turned his shoulder, and let the next blow skim past

him.

“I said there is a misunderstanding,” Ethan said coldly.

Marcus just sneered and came harder. “Save it.”

On the floor near the back wall, Rocco’s eyelids fluttered.

The world came back in fragments-pain first, then sound, then the blurred shapes of his men crouching

over him.

“Boss. Boss, you’re awake-”

Rocco’s hand found someone’s collar and gripped it. He pulled himself upright. His skull throbbed. His vision doubled, then slowly merged.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

He fumbled it out. The screen was cracked and smeared with dried blood, but the caller ID was clear.

Nathan.

“Rocco! How’d it go?” Nathan’s voice was bright, almost giddy. “Did you teach that bastard a lesson? Is Ethan crawling yet?”

Rocco’s jaw tightened. A vein pulsed in his temple. “You son of a bitch,” he rasped.

“You never told me he could fight like that.” Rocco’s voice shook-half pain, half rage. “He nearly killed me, Nathan. One hit. One. I went down like I’d never thrown a punch in my life. You set me up.”

Silence on the other end.

“I-what?” Nathan stammered. “I didn’t know he could fight! How was I supposed to know? He’s a

glorified errand boy-”

“Well your house husband put me on the floor with a whiskey bottle and knocked out four of my guys in under ten seconds.” Rocco spat blood onto the floor. “So either your intel is garbage or you lied to my

face.”

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“Okay, okay- Nathan’s voice went tight. “What’s happening now? Where is he?”

Rocco turned his head. Through the wreckage of the bar, he could see Marcus and Ethan locked in combat-Marcus attacking with everything he had, Ethan blocking, retreating, absorbing.

“Marcus is here,” Rocco said. “He showed up. They’re fighting right now.”

The line went quiet for one beat. Then Nathan laughed.

“This is even better than I planned.” The glee in his voice was unmistakable. “Marcus Donovan, personally. After this, Ethan’s done. Completely done. Marcus will destroy him, and then every door in Crestwood slams shut. He loses the Sinclair deal, he loses Aurora, he loses everything.”

Rocco watched Marcus land a solid jab to Ethan’s shoulder. Ethan stumbled back half a step but kept his guard up, still not retaliating. In Rocco’s eyes, this was a clear sign that Ethan had been beaten to a state

of utter helplessness.

“Yeah,” Rocco said, a grin splitting his swollen face. “Marcus is way above my level. This guy’s about to get the beating of his life.”

He hung up.

Marcus threw a devastating right straight. It connected-clean, hard, square on Ethan’s cheekbone.

Ethan’s head snapped to the side.

“YES!” Rocco lurched forward in his chair. “That’s it, boss! Put him down! Put him-”

Marcus pressed his advantage, raining down strikes. “Is this all? Defend and run? Fight back! Fight back, you coward!”

Ethan took two more hits. His ribs. His shoulder.

Then something shifted behind his eyes.

He’d been holding back. Absorbing. Letting Marcus swing because he didn’t want this fight, because he’d been trying to find a gap to explain, because hurting Bianca’s brother was the last thing he needed.

But that punch had landed on something deeper than skin.

His hand snapped up and caught Marcus’s next punch mid-swing.

Marcus froze. His eyes went wide.

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