Chapter 72: Bad Can Be So Attractive

Isabella's POV

"Ethan, I was wrong! I don't want to play anymore, please..." Joshua's voice trembled, tears streaming down his face. "I promise I'll never bother Miss Monroe again, absolutely never!"

Ethan stood beside me, responding with an expressionless face: "You really think you'll live to see tomorrow after our 'game' is over?"

I couldn't help but stare at his face. Perfect features, cold determination in his eyes. He radiated a dangerous aura that made my heart involuntarily race. This quality shouldn't be attractive, yet somehow it was. A thought flashed through my mind: Bad can be so attractive.

Joshua cried harder. "Please, Ethan, don't kill me! Have mercy! I know I was wrong. Don't do this—I'm still young! I'm my father's only son! Please, Ethan, I really know I was wrong..."

I instinctively grabbed Ethan's sleeve. I didn't want Joshua to really get hurt—at least not too seriously. But I had a strange confidence that Ethan wouldn't actually kill him. He just wanted to avenge me, to teach Joshua a lesson he'd never forget.

Ethan looked down at my hand clutching his sleeve, then turned his gaze to my face. His expression softened slightly.

"Isabella," his voice was surprisingly gentle, "would you like to try?"

I shook my head without hesitation. "No."

"He humiliated you at that party," Ethan said, his tone still gentle but with an edge of ruthlessness. "Now you can throw him into this waste pool. He hit you before, and I've prepared a taser for you. As long as he doesn't die, you can do whatever you want. I'll take responsibility."

The thought sent chills down my spine. I wasn't the type of person who could carry out revenge. After thinking for a moment, I asked him: "If someone hurt you, would you repay them in the same way?"

The corner of Ethan's mouth curved into a smile. His fingers lightly brushed through my hair as he said, "I'd tear them to pieces and feed them to sharks."

At his touch, my whole body felt like an electric current had passed through it. I unconsciously pulled back, my heart suddenly racing. I quickly let go of his sleeve, stepped back, and awkwardly fixed my hair where he had touched it.

"Ethan... I can't hold on anymore," Joshua called down pathetically from above. "Please let me down. I promise I'll never bother Miss Monroe again, please!"

Ethan's momentary gentleness instantly vanished. With slight impatience, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to me.

I looked at the handkerchief, wondering. How many handkerchiefs did this man carry? This wasn't the first time I'd seen him produce one.

"Cover your nose," he said gently.

Before I could understand what he meant, the crane had already lowered Joshua into the waste pool. First came a splash, then a terrified scream that quickly turned into gurgling sounds. A few seconds later, the crane pulled him back up—only to lower him again. This process repeated several times.

The stench was unbearable. Joshua was soaked through, so filthy his original appearance was unrecognizable, coughing and vomiting, his suit completely ruined.

I turned away, unable to watch anymore. The smell made me feel sick. I quickly covered my nose with Ethan's handkerchief and caught the faint scent of his cologne, something like cedar mixed with citrus. In this foul environment, the contrast was truly remarkable.

Ethan seemed unable to stand the scene either. He took my hand. "Let's go. James will stay and handle him."

The moment his palm touched mine, a tingling sensation shot straight from my palm up my arm. My heart skipped a beat. I hurriedly pulled my hand away, flustered by my own reaction.

I walked quickly toward the parking lot, just wanting to leave this disgusting place. When I reached the black luxury car, I naturally reached for the back door handle.

"Sit in front," Ethan stopped me, pointing to the passenger seat.

I hesitated before getting in. I realized Ethan was actually going to drive himself, rather than having his chauffeur do it. This wasn't like his usual style.

On the way back, the car's soft seats and subtle fragrance almost made me forget the earlier stench, but those images still lingered in my mind.

"What if something happens to him?" I couldn't help asking.

Ethan's voice was gentle. "I don't know if anything will happen to him, but I can guarantee we won't have any trouble."

"How can you be so sure?" I turned to look at his profile. From this angle, he was excessively handsome. I had to admit, this man was both dangerous and truly capable.

"Joshua has quite the reputation among that Upper East Side crowd," Ethan said. "At those parties he hosts, every girl who gets sent there has to sign an agreement that protects him. If anything happens to those girls at his parties, it's entirely their responsibility. He just needs to pay some money to settle things."

I was shocked that society could be so dark. I'd seen a lot, but this was worse than I'd imagined.

He added: "He signed a similar agreement with me too. I won't take his life, and even if he suffers some physical discomfort, money will settle it."

I leaned back in my seat, speechless. I never thought Joshua would sign such an agreement with Ethan. A voice inside me said Joshua deserved it. I couldn't help but admire Ethan's methods, never leaving any evidence that could be traced back to him.

It seemed my approach of always being polite and careful with Ethan was correct. The thought of being his enemy made me shudder.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Ethan glancing at me occasionally as he drove. His gaze fell on my clothes, which Julian had given me last time. The outfit wasn't revealing or inappropriate, but his expression told me he wasn't pleased with me wearing this set, though I didn't know why.

"Do you like my brother Julian?" Ethan suddenly asked, his tone noticeably colder.

"What?" I was startled, completely unprepared for this change in topic. "Like what?"

Ethan rephrased, his gaze focused on the road ahead. "What do you think of Julian?"

"Julian is very nice, and he's a doctor," I answered honestly. "Refined, approachable, very easy-going."

"What about Owen?" he asked again, this time about his other brother.

I hesitated. Truthfully, I didn't particularly like Owen—he always gave me a sense of being deeply calculating, and his apparent concern seemed fake. He also deliberately stirred up trouble between me and his wife Juniper. But I couldn't tell Ethan these things; he might get angry again.

"Owen is impressive too," I said, the white lie falling easily from my lips. "Mature, steady, low-key, and he seems concerned about me."

I noticed Ethan's expression change. My answer seemed to displease him, though I didn't know what I'd said wrong.

After a long silence, he asked a question that caught me off guard:

"What about me?"