# Chapter 75: The Secret That Cuts Deeper Than a Scar
Hello, wonderful readers! It's me again, your storytelling companion. How are you all doing today? I hope you're ready for another gripping ride through the pages of "The Untouchable Ex Wife." In our last chapter, we witnessed the razor-sharp tension between Quinton and Stefan, and saw Renee caught in the crossfire of two powerful men locked in a deadly dance of vengeance. But today, dear listeners, we follow Renee down a much darker and more winding path—one that leads straight into the heart of her brother's deepest, most guarded wounds. So settle in, because Chapter 75 is about to unearth secrets that were never meant to see the light of day.
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The night was quiet, heavy with the kind of stillness that settles over grand houses when all their occupants have surrendered to sleep. But within the shadows of that silence, a figure crept forward with mischief gleaming in her heart.
Renee moved like a cat through the dimly lit corridor, her bare feet silent against the polished floors. She spotted Chase standing sentinel near Quinton's bedroom, his white suit immaculate, his posture rigid and proper as always. A wicked idea sparked in her mind—just a harmless little prank to break through all that unyielding formality. She crept up behind him, raised her hands, and clamped them firmly over his eyes.
"Who's there?!"
The transformation was instantaneous. Chase's entire body snapped into lethal combat mode, his instincts flaring with the trained ferocity of a man who had survived decades of danger. He drove his elbow backward with brutal precision, catching Renee square in the stomach.
The impact drove the air from her lungs with an audible whoosh, and she staggered backward, clutching her aching midsection.
"Calm down, it's just me!" Renee gasped, wincing as she rubbed her throbbing stomach. "I was just messing with you! I didn't expect you'd be so skilled at martial arts—that elbow of yours nearly killed me!"
Chase whirled around in horror, his face draining of color the moment he realized what he had done. "Oh, it's you, Miss Everheart! I'm so sorry, please punish me as you see fit." The formidable bodyguard reduced himself to a guilt-ridden mess, bowing his head low and making to kneel before her.
In that instant, Renee understood him. The immaculate white suit, the perfect posture, the immediate self-abasement before his master's sister—this man had built his entire existence around deference and duty. He wasn't just an employee; he was a man who lived his life in constant, careful servitude, colored by a past that had taught him that his place was beneath everyone else.
"Please don't. You don't have to be so careful in front of me—I'm not like my brother," Renee said gently, steadying herself. Her eyes flickered toward Quinton's bedroom door, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Is my brother asleep?"
"Yes, Miss Everheart."
"Let's go and grab a bite then."
Chase's eyes widened in alarm. "Miss Everheart, we can't. You're my superior, so how—"
"Chase, I told you before that I'm not my brother. Let's go." Before he could argue further, Renee grabbed his arm and practically dragged him out of the mansion and down the winding streets until they reached a part of Beach City that stood in stark contrast to the polished luxury of her brother's world.
This was the underworld's playground—the messiest, most chaotic stretch of road in the entire city. Rows of food stalls stretched along the pavement, their grills hissing and spitting as flames kissed marinated meats, filling the night air with the intoxicating scent of charred spices and savory sauces. The place was swarming with patrons from every corner of society—rough-faced gangsters with gold chains and menacing tattoos, bleary-eyed laborers seeking refuge from long days, and reckless youths laughing too loudly as they clinked beer bottles together. Curses flew through the air like confetti, drinking games erupted at random tables, and the whole atmosphere buzzed with a wild, unapologetic vitality that felt raw and liberating.
"Sir, we'd like to order burgers, chips, and two dozen beers!" Renee shouted cheerfully at the stall owner, who was valiantly juggling half a dozen orders at his blazing stove.
"Sure, please wait a moment," came the harried reply.
When the food and drinks arrived, Renee grabbed a beer bottle, cracked it open, and took a long, satisfying gulp. She watched Chase from the corner of her eye. At first, he sat stiff as a statue, his spine ramrod straight, his hands awkwardly hovering over his glass as though he didn't quite know what to do with himself. Every sip he took was measured. Every glance around the bustling night market was wary.
But alcohol, as it always does, worked its gentle magic. After a few beers, the tension bled out of his shoulders. The carefully constructed wall of formality began to crumble, and the real man underneath emerged.
"Miss Everheart, let me be frank with you..." Chase's words were slightly slurred, his eyes glazing over with a nostalgic warmth. "I've been wanting to eat here for many years, but as the main attendant of Carmine Pawnshop, I was hesitant to do so. You've helped me fulfill my wish today, and I'm very grateful for that."
A smile tugged at Renee's lips. "Heh, you flatter me. Just tell me if you want to eat this kind of food next time. Ignore my brother—if he dares to scold you, I'll scold him back on your behalf!"
Chase let out a genuine, booming laugh—a sound so unfiltered and human that Renee felt she was finally seeing the man behind the mask. "Haha! Miss Everheart, you're so nice. Although you're my boss' sister, you're both so different. He leads a very conservative life, which is really quite pitiful." He took a slow sip of his beer, his gaze drifting off into the smoky distance with an expression of profound melancholy.
Renee watched this opening like a hawk spotting its prey. This was the moment she had been waiting for—a crack in Chase's carefully maintained composure. She filled his glass again, then casually asked, "Chase, I heard from my brother that you were the one who founded his business with him. Both of you came out of that small fishing village and established Carmine Pawnshop together, right?"
A shadow crossed Chase's face before he shook his head slowly. "No, I was just a lackey. It was all because of my boss' great wisdom that Carmine Pawnshop became successful." His voice grew rough with emotion. "You don't know how hard he worked back then. He was even dragged a few dozen meters from a car just to get an item his enemy had! He truly risked his life to establish Carmine Pawnshop bit by bit."
The image seared itself into Renee's mind—her brother, bloodied and battered, being dragged across unforgiving asphalt by a speeding vehicle, all for his dreams. She lowered her head, a wave of shame washing over her. "I know he's always been a hard worker. I feel like a worthless piece of trash who muddles through life compared to him..."
"You can't say that, Miss Everheart." Chase's voice was firm but kind. "You come from a totally different background. You're a rich, young lady that enjoyed luxury and led a worry-free life... but my boss was different. He couldn't even afford to eat when he was younger, and his foster parents used to abuse him." He paused, his throat bobbing as he seemed to wrestle with himself. "Only his sister was a bit nice to him, but at last, she also..."
Chase caught himself abruptly, the words dying in his throat. His eyes darted around guiltily, realizing he had said too much. "In short, you can't blame him for being extreme. He's had to suffer his whole life just to survive."
Renee's heart clenched painfully. She processed his words in hushed silence—foster parents who abused him... a sister who was kind to him but ultimately... what? Left him? Betrayed him? Died? Whatever had happened to that sister, it had left a wound so deep that even mentioning it made Chase pull back like a man touching a burning brand.
"I know that he's suffered—we're all at the mercy of fate, after all. However, we've found each other now, so as his sister, I just hope he can let go of that stress and live a happier life. You see it, don't you? His hatred has blinded him to everything but revenge, and I'm afraid if he keeps challenging Stefan, something bad might happen one day..." Renee sighed heavily and tilted her head back, draining her beer in one long, desperate gulp. The liquid burned going down, but it was nothing compared to the ache in her chest. "Stefan let my brother go this time, but he might not be as generous the next time. Honestly, I'm just wondering if there's a way for them to let bygones be bygones. It'll be for the best if they end their rivalry and become friends instead."
The words had barely left her mouth when Chase's eyes practically bulged out of his skull. "Are you kidding?! My boss holds a deep grudge against Stefan. Not killing each other is already generous, but you want them to become... friends? Even if there was an apocalypse and they were the only two people left on Earth, it wouldn't happen!"
The sheer force of his reaction sent a chill down Renee's spine. This was not the response of a man discussing a business rivalry. This was the response of someone talking about a blood feud that had consumed lives and licked the very marrow of their existence. Chase spoke as though the very concept of peace between Quinton and Stefan was so absurd it bordered on sacrilege.
"I don't know why Quinton hates Stefan so much, but I think it's more than just a conflict of interest. There has to be something that I'm unaware of, right?"
Renee's gaze bored into Chase with laser intensity. She had stopped beating around the bush entirely now—this was a direct question, sharp and pointed. In her estimation, Chase was the keeper of Quinton's secrets, the man who had stood beside her brother through every trial and tribulation. If anyone knew the true origin of this consuming hatred, it was him. And if she wanted to untangle the deadly knot between Quinton and Stefan, she had to understand what was driving her brother into such blind, reckless vengeance.
Another round of beers arrived. Chase looked at his bottle, looked at Renee's earnest face, and let out a long, suffering groan. "Er..." He shook his head helplessly. "He won't let me say."
"But I'm his sister! We're bound by blood. I'll keep it a secret and pretend not to know—I promise!" Renee nodded eagerly, her eyes pleading with him to trust her.
A heavy silence stretched between them, thick as the greasy smoke rising from the stalls around them. Chase stared into his bottle as though searching for answers in its amber depths. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.
"Hah... Miss Everheart, please don't make things difficult for me. This secret pains him more than the scar on his face, so we should just let it be. There's no point in reopening old wounds."
The mention of the scar sent a jolt through Renee. Quinton's scarred face had always been a symbol of his battles and his survival—but was it possible that some wounds ran deeper than the ones etched into flesh?
"But this wound will only get worse. How long does he plan to hide it?" Renee argued, her voice rising with stubborn conviction. She would not back down now, not when she was so close to the truth.
"This..."
Chase leaned back in his chair, his eyes darting around the chaotic street as though searching for an escape route. He looked like a man caught between a rock and a hard place, tortured by his loyalty to his boss on one side and his genuine concern for Quinton's wellbeing on the other.
"If this really is the thorn in his side, I need to see his wound before I can treat it." Renee leaned forward, gripping Chase's arm with both hands, her voice low and desperate. "You've seen it too, haven't you? His actions are often extreme, impulsive, and even twisted. If he keeps fighting Stefan, one of them will be sacrificed one day, and that's not something I want to happen. Please, Chase... you don't want that either, do you?"
The bodyguard sat frozen, a war raging behind his eyes. Renee could see the exact moment his resistance began to crack. His shoulders sagged, and a sound halfway between a sigh and a sob escaped his lips.
"I agree with you," Chase said hesitantly, his voice trembling with the weight of what he was about to do. "I don't want unnecessary death either. I want this rivalry to end too..."
Renee's heart hammered against her ribs. She squeezed his arms tighter, her face inches from his, her voice an urgent, breathless whisper.
"Then tell me, Chase. What's been troubling my brother?"
The question hung in the smoky air between them like a guillotine blade suspended by a thread. Chase opened his mouth, and the world seemed to hold its breath...
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## Reader's Impressions & Star Rating
What an electrifying chapter! The way this story peels back layers of intrigue layer by layer is absolutely masterful. This installment gave us a rare, tender glimpse into Quinton's tragic past—childhood starvation, foster parent abuse, and the heartbreaking mystery of a sister who was kind to him but whose fate remains clouded in darkness. The atmosphere transformation from the pristine, sterile world of Quinton's mansion to the chaotic, vibrant hawker street was brilliantly rendered. Watching Chase's carefully constructed armor dissolve under the influence of beer and genuine human connection was deeply satisfying, and the emotional core of this chapter lies in Renee's fierce determination to save her brother from himself even as he pushes everyone away. The pacing builds perfectly toward that final, agonizing cliffhanger, and now we're left burning with curiosity alongside Renee. What happened to Quinton's sister? What secret could possibly justify such consuming hatred for Stefan? Every answer in this story seems to spawn a dozen more questions, and I absolutely cannot get enough!
⭐️⭐️⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.8 / 5 Stars
## Next Chapter Prediction
Based on the agonizing cliffhanger, I predict the next chapter will finally unveil the dark secret behind Quinton's obsessive hatred for Stefan. Chase, having mustered his courage, is about to betray a confidence he has guarded for years—and the truth he reveals could shatter everything Renee thought she knew about her brother and about Stefan. Was Quinton's foster sister somehow connected to Stefan? Could Stefan have been responsible for her disappearance or death? Whatever the revelation may be, it will likely send Renee spiraling into a deeper dilemma—one where she may have to choose between the loyalty she owes her newly discovered brother and the ties to her past life with Stefan. Prepare for revelations that could shake the very foundations of the storyline!
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