Chapter 46: Snowbound Confrontations

Chapter 46: Snowbound Confrontations

Emily listened to the persistent dinging of the doorbell below, her brow furrowing deeper with each ring. After a few more seconds, she abruptly stood up and walked to the control panel, jabbing at the buttons with determination.

The doorbell fell silent.

Finally, peace.

But it lasted only a few seconds before her phone began to buzz incessantly.

Emily let out a soft, despairing hum, grabbed a cushion, and covered the phone with it. She curled up on the sofa, pulling her knees to her chest like a wounded animal, shrinking into the corner.

She really wanted to disappear into a hole right now.

The events of today were enough to haunt her for decades—so much so that she could imagine herself lying in her coffin, thinking back on this day and feeling so embarrassed that she might just rise from the dead.

Sleep was out of the question tonight. Every time she closed her eyes, she was back at the exhibition—Daniel's sneering face as he pointed at her, the reporters aiming their cameras at her like long rifles, and the murmured comments from fellow photographers, their eyes filled with judgmental curiosity.

Creston Media had already informed her that the media had been handled and that today's events wouldn't be reported.

But they could silence the media; they couldn't stop people from talking. Even if the public never knew, the incident was sure to spread like wildfire in the industry, with each retelling becoming more exaggerated and distorted.

Jessica had already messaged her, asking if it was true that she had fought with her cousin-in-law at the exhibition, "I heard you tore out her hair and ripped off her earrings??"

It was clear that the rumors had already spiraled out of control.

Emily stared at the exhibition flyer in her hand, her lashes lowered as she silently contemplated the photos she had taken.

It wasn't just the embarrassment—there was also a deep sense of loss and disappointment.

She had spent two weeks traveling, visiting countless places to capture these photos. Her excitement to share them was akin to the thrill she felt when she won the best-dressed award at her first ball and couldn't wait to brag about it at home.

But her meticulously prepared exhibition had been ruined.

Anger, frustration, and sadness swirled within her.

The phone buzzed persistently for a while longer before it finally quieted down, signaling the end of the call.

But then the messages started flooding in.

Ethan: [Emily, open the door.]

Ethan: [We need to talk.]

Ethan: [I know you're home. Please, open the door.]

Emily: "…"

I'm not opening it. Not a chance.

Ethan: [I just met with Daniel and my dad. Don't worry, this won't happen again.]

Emily: "…"

Sure, it's not really his fault, but still, Emily could find a hundred reasons to blame him.

Who leaked the news of the divorce to his family? It's his fault for not keeping it quiet. It's his fault that the company's security wasn't tight enough to keep Daniel from barging in. He's supposed to be the almighty Chairman Harrison, isn't he? How could he not control his own idiotic brother?

It's all his fault, all his fault, all his fault.

And who was the one who swore to protect her?

He had promised her before that nothing like this would happen again. But what happened?

Is this his idea of protection?

Suddenly, Emily felt a wave of sadness and frustration wash over her…

She sniffled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.

After a deep breath, she looked back at her phone and slowly typed out a message:

[Just go home. I need some time to think things through.]

It took several seconds before his reply came through:

[But I want to see you.]

Emily: "…"

Ethan: [Can you just open the door? I just want to see you. I won't come in.]

Emily: "…"

Sure, I believe that.

Ethan: [I'm not leaving.]

Emily: "…"

Fine. If he wants to stand out there and freeze in the middle of winter, that's his choice.

Emily tossed the phone aside, deciding to ignore him.

She sat quietly on the sofa, her mind wandering, but after a while, she couldn't resist and tiptoed to the window.

Pulling the curtain back just a little, Emily let out a surprised "Wow."

It was snowing.

The first snow of the winter had started quietly in the night.

It must have been snowing for a while, as the large flakes had already covered the ground with a sparkling layer of white.

The white snow brightened the dark night, making the figure standing in the snow even more noticeable.

Emily saw Ethan standing there like a statue, snowflakes settling on his shoulders and coat, making him appear almost dusted in white.

He stood there, unmoving, until his hair and shoulders were frosted with snow.

**

"Currently, the company's restructuring and acquisition plans are in the drafting stage, with further approval needed from the shareholders' meeting and regulatory authorities. The details are outlined in the 'Progress Report on Asset Restructuring'—"

"Achoo—"

Jason paused, setting down the report to see his boss sneezing into a tissue, a deep frown on his face.

"Chairman Harrison, maybe you should call the doctor?"

In all his years working with Ethan, Jason couldn't recall him ever getting sick. Yet here he was, suddenly down with a cold, and it seemed to be a pretty bad one at that—coughing and sneezing all morning.

Ethan waved him off, "Keep going."

He continued listening to the report while dropping a vitamin C tablet into his cup.

He had stood outside in the snow for so long last night, and she still hadn't opened the door.

It wasn't just that—she had even called security to kick him out!

If the property manager hadn't recognized him, he might have ended up being dragged off by security...

Talk about a cold shoulder.

Ethan sniffled, reaching for his phone.

There was no new update from Emily on her social media, but he unexpectedly found a familiar figure in Jessica's morning post.

Jessica: [As soon as she heard I had a cold, she sent medicine first thing this morning. [Heart] Thank you to my sweet and beautiful fairy friend! [Kiss]]

Below, Emily had commented:

[Remember to take it on time! [Heart]]

Ethan: "…"

Same cold, different treatment.

With Jessica, it was all about sending care packages. But when it came to him, it was, "I don't want to see you, leave me alone."

Really?

Ethan tossed his phone aside in frustration. After a few moments of thought, he gestured to Jason.

"Call the doctor. Tell them to come over."

**

Emily spent the entire afternoon working on her photography plans. It wasn't until she had a moment to rest that she realized she hadn't eaten lunch.

Her assistant brought in a sashimi salad and a cup of black coffee to the break room. Emily slowly picked up her fork, absently scrolling through her phone.

As she refreshed her feed, she was surprised to see an update from someone who rarely posted:

[No medicine. Had to get an IV. [Picture]]

Emily clicked on the picture, seeing Ethan's long, elegant hand with a white bandage over the back.

Maybe it was the effect of the IV, but his pale hand seemed more prominent, the veins stark against his skin.

Emily set her fork down, her eyes drifting to the window.

The black glass of the opposite building's windows reflected nothing but darkness.

So… he really was sick?

Last night, she had watched him from behind the curtain for a long time, noticing that when he said he wouldn't leave, he really didn't leave.

As the snow piled up, she had no choice but to call security…

She hadn't expected him to actually catch a cold.

Emily's gaze returned to the screen, her fingers hovering over the comment box.

[If it's not serious, you should avoid getting an IV.]

Delete.

[Why didn't you buy some medicine instead?]

Delete.

Frustrated with herself, Emily closed the comment box and impulsively hit the like button.

But after a moment, she felt guilty.

After all, his getting sick had something to do with her.

After a few seconds of thought, she unliked the post.

Exiting the app, Emily's gaze landed on Ethan's profile picture.

She remembered that his profile picture used to be a plain black square, but it had changed at some point. First, it was a wilting rose under glass—Emily had no idea what that was supposed to mean—then it was a portrait of her that he had painted. Now, it was a plush Pikachu, the one she had won for him at the claw machine in Japan.

Emily found herself thinking about that day when Ethan wore that silly plastic headband, focused so intently on the claw machine.

Childish, out of character, and utterly immature.

Yet, to her surprise, Emily realized that she didn't dislike this childish side of him.

In fact, it seemed that only when he revealed this childish side could she lower her guard and relax around him.

But when he turned back into Chairman Harrison, it was as if a barrier appeared between them, and everything changed again…

Her assistant's sudden entrance interrupted Emily's thoughts.

"Ms. Hart…" The assistant hesitated, "Chairman Harrison is here."

Emily blinked, standing up instinctively. She didn't even have time to step out before the man himself walked into the break room.

The assistant, sensing the tension, quickly made himself scarce, closing the door behind him as he left

.

Emily looked at Ethan, who stood silently across from her. Her gaze dropped to his hands—

Hmm? Where's the bandage?

Both hands were free of any bandages.

No bandage, but he was holding a large box.

Ethan approached her, opening the lid to reveal a beautifully arranged bouquet of flowers—pink and white hydrangeas and roses, exuding a sweet, fresh fragrance.

"I wanted to give you these yesterday," Ethan said softly, his deep voice laced with a clear nasal tone.

He set the flowers on the table, gently reaching out to take her hand. "Please, don't be angry anymore."

Emily pulled her hand back, taking a step away from him.

Ethan's brow furrowed for a moment before he stepped forward, closing the gap between them. "Emily—"

Emily raised a hand to press against his chest, pushing him back.

Normally, she couldn't have budged the tall man, but today, he staggered back two steps.

He braced himself against the table with one hand, the other pressing to his forehead, his brows drawn tight in discomfort.

Emily froze, quickly stepping forward.

"Are you… are you okay?"

"Dizzy." He grabbed her wrist, "Don't push me."

Emily: "…"

She didn't shake him off this time.

She stared at his half-closed eyes for a few seconds. "Are you really sick?"

Ethan opened his eyes, his dark gaze locking onto hers as if asking, "What do you think?"

A flicker of guilt crossed Emily's face.

"Is it a bad cold?"

Ethan hummed in affirmation, his voice thick with congestion. "I've even got a fever."

As he spoke, he suddenly lifted her hand, placing it against his forehead.

"Feel it for yourself."