a glimmer of hope

Mr. Caldwell transferred the payment as soon as he received the funds, ensuring the hospital had the necessary deposit for his mother's urgent surgery. Meanwhile, Olivia was in her bedroom, adjusting her dress in front of the mirror, preparing to meet him at the hospital.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her.

"Come in," Olivia said, still facing the mirror.

Sophia stepped inside, her gaze briefly scanning her mother's outfit. "Mom, I need to talk to you about something," she said hesitantly.

Olivia glanced at her daughter. "What is it, Sophia? Can it wait? I need to get to the hospital to meet your dad."

Sophia froze, her expression shifting from casual curiosity to concern. "Hospital? What happened?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.

Olivia sighed, her expression unreadable. "Your dad's mother—your grandmother—is critically ill. He received an emergency call that she needs immediate surgery, and it costs $10 million to proceed. That's why I need to go now."

Sophia's eyes widened in shock. "Mom, I'm coming with you."

"Alright, but get dressed quickly. We don't have much time," Olivia urged. Moments later, they left together for the hospital.

Mr. Caldwell sat in tense silence in the hospital corridor, his hands clasped as he waited near the surgery room. When Olivia and Sophia arrived, they rushed to his side, offering words of encouragement and support.

Nearly two hours later, the surgeon emerged, his expression calm. "The surgery was successful," he announced. "Your mother is stable and responding well. She'll need time to recover, but we're optimistic about her condition."

Relief washed over Mr. Caldwell's face. Olivia suggested they return home to have breakfast and rest, agreeing to come back later in the evening. "These doctors are professionals," she reassured. "They'll keep us informed, and we'll be here if anything changes."

That same evening, Ethan finally met his father, Mr. Maxwell Harrington. After weeks of staking out the location his mother had described, he saw a sleek BMW pull into the driveway. His instincts told him this was the man he had been waiting for.

Ethan followed the car as it slowed to a stop. When Mr. Maxwell stepped out, Ethan acted quickly, approaching him before he could leave.

"Sir, my name is Ethan Fallow," he said, his voice steady but urgent.

The security guards flanked Mr. Maxwell, ready to intervene, but he raised a hand to stop them. "How may I help you, Ethan?" Mr. Maxwell asked, his piercing gaze fixed on the young man.

As Ethan struggled to find the right words, Mr. Maxwell's eyes caught a peculiar mark on Ethan's left arm—a round, black birthmark with faint white patches. His expression shifted, a flicker of recognition crossing his face.

Interrupting Ethan's hesitant explanation, Mr. Maxwell asked, "Are you looking for a job?"

"Yes, sir. I need a job and was hoping you could help me," Ethan said quickly, his voice tinged with hope.

"Come inside," Mr. Maxwell said, gesturing for his guards to step aside.

Inside the grand house, Ethan followed Mr. Maxwell into a well-furnished room filled with framed photos and memorabilia. While Mr. Maxwell stepped into another room, Ethan's attention was drawn to a particular photograph—a young Mr. Maxwell flanked by his parents on his 10th birthday.

"You had a happy childhood," Ethan remarked when Mr. Maxwell returned. "You looked so full of life."

Mr. Maxwell chuckled faintly, his gaze turning somber. "That was long ago. My parents were murdered in this very house by a business partner trying to steal from them."

Ethan's expression softened. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's in the past," Mr. Maxwell said, his tone cold. "Their deaths were in vain because the partner never found what they were looking for. I hid it—a treasure worth trillions of dollars. Now, I'm waiting for the perfect moment to ruin those who betrayed my family. Their downfall will be slow and deliberate, starting with their financial collapse."

Ethan listened intently, his admiration for Mr. Maxwell growing.

After a moment of silence, Mr. Maxwell turned to him. "Now, tell me about yourself. Who is your father, and which family do you come from?"

Ethan hesitated. "I don't know who my father is. My mother said he abandoned her when she got pregnant with me, so she gave me the name Ethan Fallow—it was her father's name."

Mr. Maxwell studied Ethan intently, his gaze lingering on the birthmark partially visible on Ethan's arm. "Feel free to make yourself at home here," he said, his tone warmer. "This house is one of my retreats—a place where I escape the chaos of the world."

As they spoke, Mr. Maxwell was interrupted by a phone call. "Excuse me," he said, stepping onto the balcony to take it. When he returned, he told Ethan, "I have to leave for a business meeting. Stay here and make yourself comfortable. We'll talk more when I get back."

Ethan was left in awe of the man. Though uncertain if Mr. Maxwell would ever recognize him as his son, he felt this was the start of something significant.

If I can earn his trust, I'll prove myself to the Caldwell family and to Sophia. I'll show her that I'm capable of building a future for us, he thought.

The cook stood before Ethan, her calm and welcoming demeanor making him feel oddly at ease. "Sir, what would you like to eat or drink? Anything you want, I can prepare it for you," she asked, her voice polite yet confident.

Ethan hesitated, momentarily unsure how to respond. It was surreal to be treated with such respect, especially in a place like this. "Uh… just get me anything you think I can eat. I don't really know what to choose, but I'm starving right now," he said, his voice tinged with nervousness.

The cook smiled warmly. "Alright, sir. I'll prepare something for you right away," she said, excusing herself to the kitchen.

As she disappeared into the next room, Ethan sat back and took in his surroundings. He couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. The sheer elegance of the house was beyond anything he had ever experienced. The walls were lined with artwork, and the furniture exuded wealth and sophistication. It was the kind of place he'd only seen in magazines or TV shows.

For a moment, he closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. This feels unreal, he thought. He looked at his hands, still rough from his laborious cleaning job.

Ethan's thoughts were interrupted as his gaze fell on a large window overlooking the driveway. He could see Mr. Maxwell outside, speaking with his head of security. Ethan leaned closer, just enough to catch a glimpse of their conversation.

"Take care of that boy inside," Mr. Maxwell was saying to a man who stood rigidly at attention. "I'll be back soon. I need to meet with some new business partners for a deal. Call me if anything strange happens, and make sure the kid feels welcome."

"Yes, sir," the guard replied. Then, after a brief pause, he added, "Sir, do you know that boy? He approached you like a stranger, and now you're letting him stay here… I mean, is he family?"

Mr. Maxwell turned back briefly, his eyes scanning the house. Ethan instinctively ducked away from the window and tugged the curtain closed. His heart raced as he pressed his back against the wall, hoping Mr. Maxwell hadn't noticed him watching.

"Just do what I asked you to do," Mr. Maxwell said curtly.

"Yes, sir. Safe journey," the guard replied, stepping aside as Mr. Maxwell entered his car. A convoy of sleek, armored vehicles surrounded him as he drove off, two vehicles went ahead and two vehicles followed his nice-looking BMW, the sound of engines fading into the distance.

Ethan exhaled, his thoughts racing. The brief exchange of words he had overheard left him with more questions than answers. Why is Mr. Maxwell being so kind to me? Is it just generosity, or does he see something in me? Maybe he could feel that I am his son, Ethan thought to himself as he smiled.

The cook returned moments later, carrying a tray with a warm meal. "Here you go, sir. I made something simple but filling," she said, placing it in front of him. Ethan looked at the food, his stomach growling audibly.

"Thank you," he said, offering a small smile. He took a bite and couldn't help but close his eyes in appreciation. The meal was far better than anything he'd eaten in weeks, he felt the taste of the meal Sophia treated him to in the past few weeks when James humiliated him.

As he ate, Ethan's mind wandered back to the conversation he overheard. The way Mr. Maxwell had treated him with unexpected kindness sparked a glimmer of hope in him. Maybe this is it. This could be it. My chance to prove I can be more than what life has thrown at me.

After finishing his meal, Ethan decided to reach out to Sophia. He hadn't spoken to her in weeks, and he felt a pang of guilt for not staying connected to her, even for not replying back all her messages since he left their family house on Mr Caldwells birthday. He pulled out his phone and dialed her number, his heart pounding with anticipation.

The phone rang… and rang… but there was no answer. Ethan frowned and tried again. Still no response.

"Come on, Sophia. Pick up," he muttered under his breath, dialing her number one more time. After the third attempt, he gave up, feeling a mix of frustration and worry. Is she ignoring me? Or is she just busy?

He thought about sending her a message instead.

He hit send after typing the message and stared at the screen, hoping for a reply soon.

The door opened again, and this time, one of the guards entered. "Sir, Mr. Maxwell said to make sure you're comfortable. If you need anything, just let us know," the guard said with a neutral expression.

"Thank you," Ethan replied, standing up. He looked at the guard, then glanced back at the room. He felt a strange mix of gratitude and unease.

As the guard left, Ethan walked to the balcony and stared out at the sprawling views. This is just the beginning, he thought. I don't know what's waiting for me here, but I'm not going to waste this chance.

The faint sound of footsteps behind him made him turn around. A young woman in a uniform approached, holding a notepad. "Mr. Maxwell asked me to check on you before he returns," she said with a kind smile.

"Thanks. I'm okay for now," Ethan replied, his mind already racing ahead to what the future might hold.

Whatever happens next, I'm ready for it.