Chapter 8: One Week in Provence

The car glided through winding Provencal roads with the hills fading into lavender fields faraway in the horizon. Almost surreal serenity was under-planned: soft whirring of the engine and scented breeze flowed through the open windows. Ethan turned to see Sophie in the passenger seat; she was blankly looking out at the hills, glowing in gold.

"This place feels like it's out of a dream," Sophie murmured. She broke the silence.

"One of my favorite escapes," Ethan said warmly. "No boardrooms, no spreadsheets. Just peace."

Sophie nodded her head; something terribly sorry rested in her heart. She was hesitant about accepting the weekend trip with Ethan to the villa in the countryside, but her instincts told her this weekend could be one of the most important in her life. But as much as she endeavored to focus on her purpose, her preoccupation was aurally disarming. Ethan's kindness and consideration were overwhelming. The man she had pictured was calculating, cruel, or arrogant: odd kind of weaknesses, was over and above everything generous and thoughtful.

He was falling for her. She saw it in his eyes, heard it in his voice, felt it in the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the world.

The Villa

Ethan's villa dripped with rustic charm. The stone walls, ivy-draped arches, and terracotta roof blended in with the landscape. Inside, the house had warmth, housed an impression of ancient furnishings, had vaults of soft rugs, and coddled sunlight streaming through enlarged windows.

"This is beautiful," Sophie praised, following Ethan through the doors.

"It's been in the family for years," Ethan said. "My grandfather bought it when Hayes Industries was a small company. He always said it was where he came to remind himself of what was really important."

With genuine interest in her gaze, Sophie turned to him. "And what really was important?"

"Family. Love. Integrity. He was someone who believed in constructing something that would outlive him and not just in business but in life," Ethan said, his eyes flickering with nostalgia.

Sophie felt her chest tighten. How could a man who spoke so warm-heartedly of love and integrity be the same person she had despised for years?

Hearts Clashing

That night, they shared the terrace overlooking the vineyards, with the view of the horizon smeared in orange and pink. Ethan poured each a glass of wine, leaning back to look at Sophie.

"You know," he said, "I don't usually do this."

"Do what?" Sophie asked softly.

"Let people in." He swirled his wine, his expression contemplative. "When you grow up in a family like mine, you learn to keep your guard up. Trust is...rare."

Sophie felt a feather's touch slide down her spine. She was aware that she was already exploiting that trust, using it as a weapon in her quest for revenge. But the more Ethan let her into his life, the stronger the guilt grew within her.

"And yet here you are, trusting me," she threw in with irony.

Ethan chuckled. His eyes, however, were serious. "You're different, Sophie. You don't hold back with me; you're not afraid to challenge me and see through what I show on the surface. It's...refreshing."

Sophie looked away, feeling the weight of his words upon her shoulders. She wanted to believe he was just another rich man who needed to be brought down a notch. But Ethan was no longer the monster she had made him out to be.

Sophie's Inner Turmoil

Later that night, Sophie stood at the window of her bedroom, looking into the moonlit outskirts. What she had were muddled, chaotic feelings.

What am I doing here? For the hundredth time, she asked herself. She had come into Ethan's life with the sole intent-finding him, destroying him. Making him pay for what she thought he did to her father. Now she wasn't sure.

Ethan was not the cold-hearted tycoon she had thought of. He was kind, funny, and candid in his affections for her. And, oh God, she hated to admit it, but she was starting to care for him.

No, she told herself firmly. This cannot happen. Her father's ruin, her family's agonies-this was not something she could forget over a few tender moments. She had to stay focused.

Human hearts are not steel. Oh, if only mine was!

The Morning After

Ethan surprised Sophie with an elaborate picnic. They hiked up a gentle hill with chatter and laughter floating through the crisp morning air. At the top, Ethan had spread out a blanket and was unpacking fresh baguettes, cheese, and fruit.

"I've never seen a picnic this elaborate," Sophie teased, chomping on a strawberry.

"I'm trying to impress you," Ethan grinned.

"You are succeeding," she said, then her smile faltered. "That just got a little too true."

They sat in tranquil silence for a moment with warm wind stirring in the trees and the humming of distant bees.

"Sophie," Ethan said, suddenly serious, his tone stealing the tranquil atmosphere.

She looked up, her heart leaping.

"And I know we haven't known each other long," he continued, "but I feel like I've known you forever. Just being around you...it feels different. Feels real."

Sophie clasped her heart tight; her mind yelled at her to stop before it could go any further. But her heart wouldn't listen.

A Turning Point

That evening, standing under a tent of stars, he took both her hands in his.

"I'd hate to scare you off," he said softly, "but I think I'm falling for you, Sophie."

Her breath caught in wonder, her mind whirled. She wanted to yank her hands away, tell him the truth, and cast him aside before their illusion disintegrated into nothingness. But instead, she stayed.

Just a bit longer, she ordered herself. Until I can find a way to do this.

"I..." Sophie began, seeking the right words. "I do care for you, Ethan. I really do."

He grinned, a grin of such utter relief, and pulled her into his arms. While resting on his chest, a tear fell from Sophie's eye.

Because for the very first time, she was uncertain whether she was lying.

The Rift

As Clara stormed in, the door slammed with great force behind her. She was so furious that her face was a cast of boiling red fury. Sophie raised her eyebrows and stared.

"Clara?" Sophie softly asked, her voice grating with concern. "What's wrong?"

"And what's wrong?" came the razor-edged answer from Clara. "What's wrong? I just discovered that you spent a whole week with Ethan Hayes - that sonofabitch - the same guy who destroyed your father's business and thus his life. What the hell are you thinking, Sophie?"

Blushing bright red, Sophie rose. "Clara, it's not what you think. I went to the villa because-"

"Because what?" she shouted as she cut her off and her voice rose, "Because you are falling for him? Because you have forgotten everything he has done? Or maybe because you have decided revenge is not as important as batting your eyelashes at him?"

That's not fair," Sophie hailed back, sharp in tone. "You don't really understand the whole story."

"Then make me understand!" Clara screamed, wanting to throw her hands into the air. "Tell me how you can even stand to be near him, much less spend an entire weekend in his embrace at some romantic countryside villa."

Sophie's Shield

Sophie took a deep breath, trying to hold her emotions in check: "Clara, I went there to get close to him. To understand him. To figure out how best to get back at him for what he did to my father."

"Oh, spare me," replied Clara, snapping at her. "Do you really think I'll buy that? You're not investigating him, Sophie. You're falling for him! Your eyes are showing it, the way you talk about him. You let him worm into your heart - and that's disgusting."

"That's not true!" said Sophie, though her voice wavered.

"It is true," said Clara. "And you know it. Look me in the eye and tell me you don't have feelings for him or that your stomach doesn't well up in some kind of twist when he looks at you or says your name."

Sophie opened her mouth to respond but hesitated. She couldn't deny the spark she felt around Ethan, but she couldn't let Clara paint the picture so black and white.

"It's not that simple," Sophie said finally. "Ethan... he's not entirely to blame for what happened."

Clara froze, her brow furrowing. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Sophie began, her voice growing firmer, "that I've been digging into the past, and I've discovered things. Things that change everything we thought we knew."

The Revelation

Sophie crept in closer like a trembling child, both in anger and conviction. "Clara, my father's not innocent in all this; he made risky deals, leveraged costs he couldn't afford to lose, and messed with the wrong people. He'd be in trouble long before Ethan ever showed up."

Clara's mouth fell open in shock. "Now you're saying your father is to blame? Come on!"

"I'm not laying the blame on him," Sophie replied, shaking her head. "But I'm saying things aren't as simplistic as we thought. Ethan didn't plan it all out. He played a role, yes, but it wasn't him who orchestrated my father's downfall. It was Alex."

"Alex?" Clara repeated incredulously. "As in your father's business partner? The one who stood by him through everything?"

"Yes," Sophie said with a breaking voice. "Alex was the only one who'd who set him up. He manipulated the deals and siphoned money from the company, leaving my father exposed. Ethan... Ethan was just a pawn in his game."

Clara stared at her, dumbstruck. "And you believe this? You actually believe Ethan's excuses? He probably fed you this story to make you feel sorry for him!"

"No," Sophie propounded, her eyes flashing. "I found the evidence myself: Emails, documents, records-Alex turned my father against Ethan."

Clara's Fiery Tirade

The shock soon dulled into anger. "I can't believe you're such a fool. So what if Alex had a hand in it? That vanished Ethan's guilt. He still wrecked your father's business. He still drove him to his death!"

"I'm not saying Ethan's innocent," Sophie said, her voice rising. "His world is not quite so black and white as we painted it. He's human, Clara. He made mistakes, but he is not the one who destroyed my father's life."

Clara shouted in frustration, throwing up both her hands. "Listen to yourself, Sophie. You're bending over backward to defend the man who destroyed everything you and your family stood for. Even if it were Alex, he just went along with it, no questions asked. Not that he'd ever stopped it; however terrible it must be."

Sophie burned up. "You don't know him like I do, Clara. He's not the villain in this story. He's... he's complicated."

"Complicated?" Clara yelled. "He is a corporate shark who ruins lives in order to make money. That is not 'complex' at all. How you can still look at him and feel anything other than anger is the only complicated aspect of this situation.

At the Boiling Point

The shaking of Sophie's voice attested to her immense emotion. "I'm trying to put this all together, Clara. My father's death, Ethan's role in it, Alex's betrayal—it's all a wreck. But I will not let my anger blind me to the truth."

"Truth?" Clara mocked. "The truth is, your feelings for Ethan are clouding your judgment. You are so desperate to convince yourself that he is not a villain that you are willing to rewrite history to fit your narrative."

"That's not fair!" yelled Sophie, her tears obviously flowing. "You don't know how it feels to carry this weight. To shoulder this pain every single day. This is the best I can do!"

"And the best in your opinion is to fall for the man who helped destroy your family?" fired back Clara. "That's not just dumb, Sophie. That is pathetic."

Sophie recoiled in shock as though she had been slapped. "If you cannot know what I am going through, perhaps you are not the friend I thought you were anymore."

Clara laughed bitterly. "Maybe I am not. Or maybe I am just the only one with clear vision. You are betraying your father's memory, Sophie. And you are doing it for a man unworthy of your forgiveness, let alone love."

The Last Goodbye

Clara picked up her bag and marched out stiffly and angrily.

"Clara, wait," Sophie cried desperately.

Clara halted then stated, without having turned around: "When you finally wake up, and realize what a fool you have been, you know where to find me. Until then…. We are done."

The sound of the slamming door left Sophie in thunderous silence in the apartment. She shuddered under the weight of Clara's words. She sunk down to the couch, trembling.

She had lost her best friend. And for what? A man she wasn't even certain one way or another about.

Through half the night in dingy light, she sat moaning through every conflicting emotion. She knew Clara was wrong about some things, but what if she was right about the most important ones?