Chapter 55: A Night to Remember

Ethan Cross and Myra Langford stepped out of the luxurious restaurant, the crisp evening air brushing against them as the valet brought Ethan's sleek black sports car around. Myra's hand rested lightly on his arm, her expression thoughtful. The night had gone perfectly—at least for them. Connor Hayes, on the other hand, had just learned the hard way that Ethan was not someone to be trifled with.

Ethan had made sure of that.

As he helped Myra into the car, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it for the moment, focusing instead on getting behind the wheel. The low hum of the engine purred as he started it, the interior glowing softly with ambient light. He turned to Myra, who was watching him with an amused expression.

"You didn't even hesitate," she finally said, crossing her legs. "Just one call and Connor was gone."

Ethan smirked, resting his hands on the steering wheel. "He disrespected me. That doesn't get overlooked."

Myra shook her head with a small smile. "I knew you had influence, Ethan, but I didn't realize just how much."

He glanced at her, his sharp eyes holding something unreadable. "You're my fiancée, Myra. There's a lot you don't know yet."

She raised an eyebrow. "Then tell me. What else should I know about the man I'm engaged to?"

Ethan tapped his fingers against the wheel, considering. He had spent so long keeping his true self hidden, living a low-key life while controlling industries and wielding more power than most could even imagine. But Myra… she was different. He had agreed to this engagement, and if he was going to let anyone into his world, it was her.

"I own a lot more than just that restaurant," he said simply. "In fact, there are very few places in this city where my name isn't tied to something important."

Myra studied him for a moment before leaning back against the leather seat. "I believe it."

Ethan smirked, shifting gears as they pulled away from the restaurant. The city lights flickered past them, the streets alive with energy. Myra was quiet, as if digesting everything that had just happened. Then she turned to him again.

"You don't regret what happened with Connor, do you?"

Ethan chuckled. "Regret? No. If anything, it was a reminder that some people need to be put in their place."

Myra laughed softly. "Well, he definitely won't be showing his face there again."

Ethan didn't respond. He didn't need to. Connor Hayes was done. Not just at the restaurant, but in any establishment Ethan had influence over. That was the difference between him and the people who thought they had power—his reach extended beyond their imagination.

As they drove through the city, Myra suddenly reached for his hand. "Take me somewhere," she said.

Ethan glanced at her. "Where?"

"Somewhere that isn't just another business you own," she teased. "Somewhere that means something to you."

Ethan was silent for a moment before nodding. "Alright. Hold on."

He took a sharp turn, guiding the car away from the main streets. The buildings became less extravagant, the neon lights dimming. After about twenty minutes, he pulled into a quiet, empty park. It overlooked the city skyline, the distant hum of life far below them. He killed the engine and stepped out, moving to open Myra's door.

She stepped out, looking around. "This is…"

"A place I used to come to when I wanted to get away," Ethan said, his voice quieter than before. "Back when I was still figuring things out."

Myra turned to him, searching his expression. "And now?"

"Now?" He smirked. "Now I don't need to hide."

She smiled, stepping closer. "I like this side of you, Ethan."

He raised an eyebrow. "Which side?"

"The one that lets me in."

For a moment, they stood there, the world around them fading into the background. Then Myra looped her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a soft kiss. Ethan's hands settled on her waist, grounding himself in the moment.

Maybe letting someone in wasn't such a bad thing after all.

But in the back of his mind, he knew that peace never lasted long in his world. And whatever came next—he would be ready.