Chapter 38: I’m Her Husband "Help! Help! He’s trying to rape me!" Janet's voice rang out in desperate pleas, fear saturating every syllable as she clung to the doorframe, her body trembling with terror. Despite her fervent cries, I tightened my grip around her waist, the urgency of the moment propelling me to drag her into the room with a force she could scarcely resist. She fought back valiantly, a whirlwind of limbs and sobs, but tears streamed down her cheeks, betraying her helplessness. Each cry grew weaker, her throat raw from the effort, yet the echo of her desperation faded into the cold silence of the corridor, unheeded by the world outside. Just when the final flicker of hope was about to extinguish in her heart, it ignited again—there, in the distance, a waiter was pushing a dining cart down the hall. With a surge of adrenaline, Janet called out, desperation clawing at her voice, "Help! This man’s trying to rape me! Please help me! Call the police! Please!" The waiter hesitated, briefly meeting her frantic gaze, yet his eyes lacked warmth or concern. He shared a passing glance of indifference before walking away, fading into the shadows of the corridor, leaving Janet’s cries to linger in the air like a ghostly wail. "Shut up already," I growled, irritably dismissing her screams. "No one here will intervene. They’ve witnessed too much, and they know better. So play nice, and I might even be generous later." My eyes roamed hungrily over her exposed waist, anticipation bubbling beneath the surface. But before I could indulge that twisted fantasy, my world shattered in an instant—the unmistakable sensation of a heavy fist crashing into my face sent me sprawling backward to the floor. Pain radiated through my skull as the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, and I quickly realized that one of my teeth had been knocked loose. "What the hell?!" I roared, my voice cracking with rage as I spat out the broken tooth. Gingerly, I pressed my hand to my throbbing cheek, a fresh wave of fury overcoming me. The source of my anguish stepped into view, revealing a fierce figure towering above me—a tall, burly man clad in a black jacket and cap, his cold eyes glinting ominously beneath the brim. "Ethan!" With tears still streaking down her cheeks, Janet rushed to Ethan, desperation twisting her features into a mix of relief and yearning. Ethan moved to intercept her, placing himself protectively in front of her, and with a swift motion, he removed his cap, placing it atop her head—an act of protection amidst chaos. He gently wiped her tear-stained cheeks with his thumbs, his voice low and menacing as he commanded, "Get out of here. Now." "Damn it! You bastard!" I bellowed, pushing myself to my feet in a blind rage. My fists clenched into tight balls as I charged at Ethan, my fury boiling over. Yet, before I could strike, Ethan seized my wrist with a grip of iron, twisting it until I was forced to the ground, completely at his mercy. It was like confronting a predator; my strength was no match for his. His dark, resolute eyes narrowed, and before I could regain my balance, he delivered a punishing blow straight to my face. With each strike, my body absorbed the relentless fury he unleashed; I was nothing more than a punching bag for his wrath. When he finally relented, I lay gasping on the ground, blood pooling from my nose, a few teeth missing—not that I could rise to speak. "Let me go! Please! Someone, help! He’s trying to kill me!" My pleas echoed through the corridor, but it was to no avail—the world around us remained blissfully ignorant to my cries. Ethan took a step back, collecting himself with an air of calmness as I writhed on the floor, clutching my wounded pride. But he wasn't finished yet. A swift, calculated kick to my groin sent me spiraling into agony, pain overwhelming every sense. "Do something like that again," he spat, "and I’ll cut your balls off." My body crumpled, rolling helplessly on the floor as screams of torment erupted from my lips, piercing the quiet spaces of the hallway. It felt like an eternity before I could gather enough strength to crawl away, retreating like a cornered animal. With a spiteful glare, I attempted to spit at him, my defiance waning as I muttered, "Who the hell are you to meddle in my business?" Ethan’s demeanor shifted; he approached Janet, resting a protective arm around her shoulder, and turned to me with an icy stare. "I’m her husband." My heart plummeted at the weight of his words. Trembling, I stumbled to my feet, venomous hatred boiling within me. "This isn’t over! I won’t rest until you’re behind bars!" Then, my accusatory finger shifted to Janet, a venomous promise dripping from my lips. "And you! Don’t even think about returning to the Larson Group. I’ll make sure you’re blackballed from the entire industry, you witch!" Ethan’s lips curled into a mocking sneer, provoking a chill to race down my spine. "Is that so? Well, I guess we’ll have to wait and see." Beneath the weight of exhaustion and humiliation, I knew I lost this round. Ethan, unbothered by my threats, steered Janet away, his arm firmly around her shoulder. Together, they walked away from the chaos, leaving me to grapple with the knowledge that I had underestimated the depths of his resolve.