The first thing Ethan Rowe noticed was the sound.
Soft laughter. Intimate. Female.
It drifted out from behind the glass doors of the private suite on the top floor of the hotel,low, familiar, and unmistakably his wife's.
His hand froze inches from the handle.
For a moment, his mind refused to connect the dots. He told himself he was tired. Overworked. Paranoid. That this wasn't happening,not to him, not after everything he had sacrificed.
Then the door opened.
And his marriage ended.
Ethan Rowe never imagined his marriage would end on the top floor of a luxury hotel. The carpet beneath his feet was soft, imported, expensive enough to make his shoes feel like cheap rags. Chandeliers hung like frozen stars above him, their light reflecting off marble walls, glass doors, and polished brass. This was a place built for money, for people who could throw wealth around like confetti.
Not for him.
Not for someone who counted pennies to pay rent, who skipped meals to save a few dollars, who gave everything and received nothing in return.
"Ethan, don't make a scene."
The voice was smooth, controlled, deadly. He turned and froze. The woman standing in front of him didn't look like his wife anymore.
Lena Rowe.
She was impossibly poised, arms crossed, her body straight as a blade, her face perfect in a way that felt almost cruel. Her eyes, once warm and familiar, were cold, sharp, distant. Her silver gown shimmered in the soft chandelier light, and her makeup was flawless...too flawless, as though designed to cut through him with every glance.
Behind her, a man Ethan didn't recognize leaned casually against the doorway of the private suite. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a custom suit that cost more than Ethan's entire apartment. An expensive watch gleamed on his wrist. He smiled faintly, a smile that held ownership, power, and a quiet mockery. The kind of man who could buy the world if he wanted to and probably already had.
Ethan's hands trembled. His pulse raced, a dull roar pounding in his ears.
"You didn't come home last night," he said hoarsely, voice breaking. "You wouldn't answer your phone. I was worried."
Lena laughed. Not softly. Not kindly.
"Worried?" she scoffed. "You?"
The man behind her chuckled, a low, confident sound that grated against Ethan's nerves.
"Sweetheart, you didn't have to explain yourself to him," he said casually. "Let's go back inside."
Ethan's chest tightened. Something deep inside him twisted. He took a step forward, instinctively, his voice rising despite the lump in his throat.
"Who is he?"
Lena turned sharply, eyes flashing with annoyance, then something sharper..scorn.
"Who is he?" she repeated. "He's Lucas Grant. CEO of Grant Holdings. A man who actually knows how to take care of a woman."
Each word landed like a slap, sharp and precise. Ethan swallowed, throat tight.
"You're… cheating on me?" His voice cracked.
She rolled her eyes, impatient and dismissive. "Don't act like a victim. Look at you."
Her gaze swept over him,his worn jacket, the scuffs on his shoes, the tired lines etched into his face. Every flaw highlighted, every weakness exposed.
"You can barely afford rent, Ethan. Do you really think I married you to live like this forever?"
Lucas straightened, stepping closer, his presence calm and commanding. "You should leave," he said. "You're embarrassing her."
Ethan's fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. "She's my wife."
"My wife?" Lena echoed, mockery dripping from her tone. "I regret marrying you every single day. I was stupid. I thought you had potential. But you're nothing. No money. No connections. No future."
The words cut deeper than any slap, deeper than any blow he'd ever taken. Ethan's chest tightened painfully. His lungs felt constricted, and a hollow ache spread from his stomach to his head.
"Lucas buys me things," she continued, stepping closer, her voice calm, controlled, cruel. "Real things. Jewelry. Dresses. Experiences. Not the cheap trash you give me."
Ethan's chest tightened further. "We promised.."
"Don't talk about promises," she snapped. "I never loved you."
Silence fell between them. Heavy. Crushing.
Lucas smirked. "Security."
Two large men appeared instantly, as if conjured from the walls themselves.
"Escort him out," Lucas said, voice calm, casual, as though requesting something ordinary. "Gently, if possible."
Ethan struggled, desperation flaring. "Lena! Look at me!"
She turned away, the shimmer of her gown reflecting the chandelier light, leaving him exposed, stripped of dignity.
The guards grabbed his arms, their grip firm, unyielding. They forced him toward the elevator. He stumbled, resisted, but there was no fight left in him,not against trained men who could crush him without a second thought.
The elevator doors closed behind him. Ethan caught one final glimpse of Lena and Lucas in the mirrored panels. She smiled at him, victorious, cruel. Lucas's expression remained calm, almost indulgent, as if watching a weak animal being escorted out of a room it could never belong to.
The elevator descended. Each floor felt like a lifetime. Memories flashed in his mind,moments he had cherished now poisoned: their first date, the night she whispered that she loved him, mornings they spent laughing together over coffee in a tiny apartment. All gone.
The doors opened to the lobby. Ethan was shoved through the crowd of people, muttering apologies he didn't feel, fumbling for balance as strangers glanced at him, some sneering, some indifferent. Every step felt like walking through quicksand.
The doors opened to the night, and rain began to fall. Light at first, then heavier, soaking him instantly. Cold droplets dripped down his hair, ran into his collar, stung his eyes. The city lights blurred through the downpour, reflecting in puddles like broken mirrors.
Ethan stumbled, chest aching, mind blank.
His phone buzzed. Fumbling, he retrieved it with trembling hands.
BANK ALERT:
Account balance: $14.27
A hollow sound escaped him, bitter and short. He sank to his knees in the puddle, rain soaking through his jacket, into his clothes, into his skin.
"I gave you everything," he whispered. "Everything…"
The words barely left his lips before a sharp pain exploded in his skull. He hadn't seen the curb, hadn't registered the slick puddle beneath him. His body pitched forward.
His vision blurred.
Then a cold, emotionless voice sounded inside his mind.
[HOST DETECTED]
[INITIALIZING SYSTEM…]
Ethan froze.
"What…?" he whispered.
A translucent screen appeared before his eyes.
[SHADOW SYSTEM LEDGER ACTIVATED]
Then everything went dark.