My Fake Bankrupt Husband Is A Tycoon

Ethan reaches out. His long, elegant fingers gently wrap around my wrist. The contrast between his dark, furious eyes and the extreme gentleness of his touch makes my breath hitch.

He pulls a pure silk handkerchief from his pocket. Without a word, he peels away the bloody paper towels and wraps the silk tightly around my wound.

The warmth of his hands seeps into my freezing skin. My heart performs a strange, rapid flutter.

"Thank you," I whisper. "I'm fine."

Doris stops thrashing against the officers. She stares at Ethan. Her eyes rake over his unbranded suit and the cheap Ford parked outside. Her upper lip curls into a sneer.

"So this is the bastard," Doris spits, ripping her arm away from the cop. She marches right up to us. "You slept with my daughter," Doris snarls, pointing a finger at his chest. She sizes him up. He looks clean, and his suit, while plain, is impeccably fitted. He has to have more money than that loser Clarnce. "That means you owe me. I want one hundred thousand dollars for family compensation," she declares, deciding to aim high. "Right now. Or I'll make sure this shop is in ashes tomorrow."

By the door, Gale rolls his eyes so hard it hurts. He bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. She's extorting Ethan Patterson for a hundred grand. She has no idea she is standing in front of a man who could buy this entire city block and bulldoze it for fun.

Ethan finally turns his head. He looks at Doris. It is the look of an apex predator staring at a dying insect. A cruel, terrifying smirk plays on his lips.

He opens his mouth. I know that look. It's the look of a man about to do something drastic.

Before he can speak, I step sideways.

I plant my feet firmly on the floor, throwing my arms out, placing my small body entirely in front of Ethan. I shield him from my mother.

Ethan freezes. His breath catches in his throat.

For thirty years, he has been the shield. He has been the weapon. No one-absolutely no one-has ever stepped in front of him to protect him.

"Don't you dare bully him!" I yell at Doris, my voice echoing in the ruined shop. "My marriage is my business. You aren't getting a single cent from him!"

Doris's face contorts with rage. She raises her hand, aiming a vicious slap right at my face.

Ethan's eyes go black. He shifts his weight, ready to grab her wrist and snap it in half.

But I anticipate the strike. I duck, letting her hand swing through empty air.

I know my mother. I know the only thing she cares about is money. If she thinks Ethan has money, she will never stop hunting him.

I stand up straight, looking Doris dead in the eye. I lie through my teeth.

"He doesn't have any money!" I scream. "He's bankrupt! His trust fund is locked until he's sixty, and he has fifty thousand dollars in credit card debt! He's broke!"

Behind me, Ethan's chest brushes against my back. I feel him stiffen. He lets out a sound that is half-cough, half-choke.

By the door, Gale spins around, facing the street. His shoulders are shaking violently. He is suffocating himself to keep from bursting into hysterical laughter.

Doris stops. The word bankrupt hits her like a physical blow. The color drains from her face.

"Bankrupt?" she whispers, her eyes darting to the cheap Ford outside.

"Yes!" I lie, my voice full of fake despair. "I have to pay for his meals! If you take him on, you take on his debt!"

Doris looks at Ethan like he is covered in a contagious disease. She takes three rapid steps backward.

"You stupid, blind idiot," Doris shrieks at me. "You married a useless loser! Don't you dare bring his debts to my door!"

She turns to the cousins. "We're leaving! This is bad luck!"

Doris tries to push past the police to the door. Gale steps in her way, his face instantly turning to stone.

"Not so fast," Gale says coldly. "You're under arrest for felony destruction of property."

The officers grab Doris. She screams, kicking her legs, howling curses at me as they drag her out of the shop and shove her into the back of the cruiser.

The sirens wail as the police cars drive away, leaving the street eerily quiet.

I stand in the middle of the wreckage, my chest heaving.

I turn around to face Ethan. He is looking down at me. The coldness in his eyes is gone, replaced by a strange, dark amusement that makes my stomach do a nervous flip.