Because I Was an and He Threw Away 93

Chapter 93 Tyrone Goes Missing 

Ethan’s voice was ice–cold, devoid of any warmth, cutting through the air like a blade. 

Emily caught the edge in his tone, wondering if he was deliberately picking a fight. 

Back in the dining room, she’d intentionally gone against his unspoken wish by agreeing to stay overnight, and now it seemed like payback. 

Ethan didn’t give her a chance to explain. He strode toward the grand hall’s exit, leaving Emily no choice but to follow with a resigned sigh. 

Once outside Wilson Manor, Emily steeled her expression, her guard up as she confronted him. “Ethan, whatever you have to say, spit it out right here.” 

He halted abruptly, catching her off guard. 

As he turned, Emily’s forehead collided with his solid chest. 

She felt the firm contours of his muscles beneath his shirt, and a flush crept up her cheeks, hot and unwelcome. 

Ethan looked down at her, his eyes searching. “Tyron gone 24 missing. I’ve been calling him. but he won’t nick un.” 

<Chapter 93 Tyrone Goes Missing 

This was out of character for Tyrone, Normally, if Ethan called, he’d answer without fail. 

Even if he was reluctant deep down, fear of Ethan’s authority would make him comply. 

Hearing this, Emily realized Ethan’s urgency stemmed from genuine concern for his brother. 

She responded calmly, her voice steady, “He’s a grown man, capable of handling his own choices. If a few harsh words push him over the edge, then his resilience is paper–thin.” 

Ethan’s face darkened at her detached tone, his words sharpening with frustration. “If something happens to him tonight, can you live with that on your conscience?” 

Emily fell silent. If she bore any blame, it was for letting a petty spat with a hotheaded youth escalate. 

Yet she didn’t truly feel at fault. 

But this wasn’t the time to argue right from wrong. 

Finding Tyrone took precedence now. 

Though Emily preferred to stay out of it, she couldn’t just wash 

her hands entirely. 

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If something really happened to him, her heart wouldn’t let her ignore it. 

After a moment’s thought, she asked Ethan, “Can Lucas track Tyrone’s whereabouts?” 

Ethan shook his head. “I’ve already had Lucas look into it–no leads yet.” 

Emily let out a weary sigh. “Well, where does he usually hang out?” 

Ethan pondered briefly before replying, “Get in the car.” 

The vehicle was parked curbside. Ethan swung open the passenger door, gesturing for her to climb in. 

Without overthinking it, Emily slid into the seat. 

The car sped off toward the bustling heart of Los Angeles, eventually pulling up in front of a lively bar. 

Ethan moved with urgent strides, clearly anxious that Tyrone might be in real trouble. 

Impatient with her pace, he glanced back and grabbed her arm. “Stick close to me!” 

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Family felt a twinge of worry herself. After all, if Tyrone met with an accident, Emma would undoubtedly pin every ounce of blame on her, 

The mere thought made her chest tighten with injustice, a bitter knot forming in her throat. 

But priorities first–locating him was key. 

Inside the bar, the pounding music assaulted their ears like thunder, threatening to drown out all thought. On the dance floor, bodies writhed and twisted like serpents in a frenzied ritual. 

Ethan led the way, his broad frame shielding her from prying eyes. Emily trailed behind, eyes fixed on the floor to avoid the chaos. 

They reached the VIP lounge area, flanked by long corridors lined with private booths. 

Ethan had no clue which room Tyrone might be in. 

After a tense pause, Emily suggested, “Let’s split up and search.” 

Ethan nodded approvingly. “Alright. If you spot anything, yell for me I’ll be there in a flash.” 

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Emily said nothing, simply turning toward the right corridor. 

No sooner had she entered than unsettling sounds of intimacy drifted from the rooms, making her skin crawl. She pushed them aside, knocking methodically on each door. 

In one booth, a man eyed her appreciatively, stroking his chin. “Hey, gorgeous, who sent you here? Got time? Come back to my place I’ve got the cutest little kittens you’d love.” 

In another, a gruff voice snapped at her. “Who the hell are you? We don’t want whatever you’re selling. Quit banging on the door like a lunatic!” 

Nearing the corridor’s end, Emily began to doubt Tyrone was even there. 

But then, from the farthest booth, a crash echoed–something shattering. “Who the fuck do you think you are? How dare you talk to me like that!” 

She recognized Tyrone’s voice instantly, laced with raw fury. 

Another voice shot back, menacing and low. “It doesn’t matter who I am. You touch my girl, and I’ll end you.” 

It sounded like a brawl was brewing, tensions boiling over. 

5/6. 

Fearing the worst, Emily dashed toward the booth. 

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She kicked the door open, and the room fell silent for a split second as everyone turned toward her. 

There was Tyrone, sleeves rolled up, poised to strike. The man beside him was fumbling in his pocket, likely reaching for something dangerous. 

Emily couldn’t tell what it was, but instinct screamed trouble. 

Tyrone stood alone against three burly men and a woman huddled nearby. 

If a fight broke out, Tyrone didn’t stand a chance. 

Summoning her composure, Emily fixed Tyrone with a stern glare and hissed under her breath, “Tyrone, get over here- now!” 

Spotting her, Tyrone’s already sour mood plummeted further, his face twisting in defiance. “You think you can just order me around? Why the hell should I listen to you?” 

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