Chapter 9 - The Ultimate Salute
With flawless, blinding military precision, Ethan raised his right hand, delivering a razor-sharp, perfect salute directly to Katherine.
The cinematic realism of the terrifying, profound respect completely paralyzed the room.
"Lieutenant General, ma'am," Ethan announced. His voice wasn't a whisper. It was a deep, formal, and deeply emotional command that boomed across the dead-silent ballroom, bouncing off the crystal chandeliers and striking his new bride right in the chest.
Clare’s malicious, arrogant smile completely, violently vanished.
On the stage, her jaw literally unhinged, her eyes widening in sheer, apocalyptic shock. She stared at the man she had married for status, watching him stand at absolute, rigid attention for her "pathetic" older sister.
Sitting at the VIP table, their mother stopped breathing. All the color violently drained from her powdered face, leaving her looking like a terrified ghost. The champagne glass trembled wildly in her hand.
"Lieutenant General?" the mother choked out, her voice a high-pitched squeal of pure, unadulterated horror as the wealthy guests surrounding her began to whisper in absolute disgust at the family's ignorance.
Ethan kept his hand perfectly locked in the salute. He didn't break his formal posture, but he slowly turned his head to the side, looking directly back across the massive ballroom at his frozen bride and her mother.
The absolute, titanium fury in his eyes was lethal.
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"You just mocked a three-star general," Ethan stated coldly, his voice dripping with pure, unfiltered disgust. "A woman who commands more respect, honor, and power than you will ever comprehend in your entire shallow lives."
👉 Clare physically staggered backward, entirely aware that her social empire had just been brutally executed.
