Andros_Karova

Ethan Cross was just a broke university student, juggling part-time delivery jobs and barely making ends meet. To make things worse, his girlfriend dumped him for a rich guy, calling him "a loser with no future."

But fate had other plans.

On a whim, he bought an old painting at an auction for $50, not knowing it would change his life forever. That painting was once the most treasured possession of Alexander Langford, the world's richest man who had just passed away. And in his will, Langford made a shocking decision:

Whoever bought the painting would inherit his entire fortune.

Now, Ethan is the heir to a trillion-dollar empire, with mansions, private jets, elite companies, and more money than he can ever spend. But wealth comes with its own dangers—rival corporations, underground syndicates, and even secret cults want him dead.

To make matters more complicated, Langford’s final wish was for Ethan to marry his only daughter, Myra Langford—a cold and mysterious beauty with a past of her own.

With power beyond imagination, enemies lurking in the shadows, and a woman he can’t understand, Ethan must navigate this new world while keeping his true strength hidden.

From rags to royalty… his reign has just begun.

Streets to Fortune

The evening air around Ethan's coastal villa was cool and fragrant, tinged with ocean breeze and the soft murmur of waves. Moonlight glittered across the infinity pool, casting silvery reflections on the marble flooring. Inside, the villa was quiet — a far cry from the buzzing city life Myra had grown used to. And yet, she felt more alive here than she had in years.

She sat curled on one end of the velvet couch, sipping a glass of chilled wine. Ethan leaned against the edge of the wide glass doors, arms folded, a contemplative silence wrapping around him.

"So…" Myra began softly, "this is what you've been hiding. All this time. The villas, the money, the control. The mystery."

Ethan gave a small smile. "Only some of it."

"You're full of secrets, Ethan Nightshade."

He didn't deny it. "It was never about hiding from you," he said, his voice calm but heavy. "I just wanted to enjoy this — whatever this was — without dragging you into everything else. But I knew it wouldn't last."

Myra lowered her gaze. "So this is the end?"

He walked over and sat beside her. "Not an end. A pause. Maybe a reset."

She looked into his eyes, studying him — the confidence, the veiled storm, the pain he never vocalized. "You're going to disappear again, aren't you?"

Myra didn't cry. She'd grown stronger than she'd realized. Instead, she stood and faced the windows, arms crossed. "You're about to do something dangerous, aren't you?"

Ethan stood up behind her, close, but not touching. "There's a target on my back. Always has been. I've ignored it long enough. Now, it's time I dealt with it."

A tense silence stretched between them. Then she turned.

"I don't need your protection, Ethan," she said firmly. "But I deserve the truth. So tell me, before you vanish — who are you really?"

Ethan hesitated for the briefest moment.

Then, he whispered, "I'm not just the mysterious scholarship student or the guy who owns a restaurant chain or lives in hidden villas."

He turned to her fully, voice low, chilling in its finality.

"I'm the son of a man who was killed for secrets he never should have held. I was trained by ghosts, betrayed by friends, and now… I'm the executioner of those who thought I wouldn't survive the fire."

Myra's breath caught. She stepped closer. "Then promise me one thing."

Their eyes locked for what felt like forever. He didn't promise — Ethan never made promises he wasn't sure he could keep.

But he leaned forward and kissed her forehead gently. "If I do… I'll come back with no more secrets."

The next morning, she woke up alone. No note. No message. No goodbye.

table, engraved with a silver snake:

The End Before the Storm