CHAPTER 9: A MOTHER'S WARNING

Ethan's POV

The sun hadn't even fully risen when Ethan's mother summoned him.

He entered the private salon of the SaintWood mansion, the place where

family decisions were handed down like royal decrees. His mother, Marianne

SaintWood, sat by the window, her posture regal in a pale blue silk robe, a cup

of coffee perfectly balanced between her long, polished fingers.

"Sit," she said softly.

Ethan obeyed, feeling the familiar tension creep into his shoulders. Even at

thirty, even as CEO of one of the country's largest companies, his mother's

approval — or disapproval — still weighed heavily.

She fixed him with her piercing gray eyes. "I hear you've been...

distracted."

Ethan's jaw tightened. "I'm managing the new project just fine, Mother."

She raised a perfectly shaped brow. "I'm not talking about the project. I'm

talking about her. Emily Carter."

He froze.

Marianne set her coffee cup down. "Lexi told me she noticed your little…

spark. The girl from the past. The one we paid good money to disappear."

Emily's name tasted like ash in his mouth. She wasn't a

girl anymore, and she certainly hadn't disappeared. She was back, stronger than

before, with her fierce eyes and stubborn drive — stirring feelings he had

buried under years of duty and control.

He kept his voice cool. "It's strictly business."

His mother leaned forward, her eyes sharp. "You're married, Ethan. To Lexi.

She may not have been your choice, but she's your wife. You will honor

that — if not for love, then for the contract, for the alliance between our

families, for everything we've built."

Ethan's hands curled into fists on his lap.

He remembered the night his father had handed him the marriage contract —

how his protests had been crushed under promises of empire expansion, family

loyalty, and the unspoken threat of disinheritance.

"Do you understand me, Ethan?" Marianne's voice cut in. "No mistakes. No

scandals. No risk to our name."

He stood abruptly. "I understand."

But as he left the room, his chest ached. He understood too well — and it

was strangling him.

Lexi's POV

Lexi sat in the hallway outside the salon, pretending to scroll through her

phone, though her ears were sharp on the closed door.

She had gone to Marianne last night, her heart twisting. She wasn't a fool —

she saw the way Ethan looked at Emily, the way his eyes softened when he

thought no one was watching.

Lexi loved Ethan. Maybe not the way he loved Emily, but she had always hoped

that with time, with patience, he would come to care for her — truly care. But

now?

Now she felt the ground slipping beneath her feet.

When Ethan walked out, she looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. "Is

everything alright, darling?"

He gave her a polite nod, the kind that made her stomach sink. "Everything's

fine, Lexi."

She smiled tightly. "Good. Because you know you can talk to me about

anything, right?"

He offered no reply — just a brief, distracted kiss on her forehead before

striding away.

Lexi's fingers clenched around her phone.

She couldn't lose him. She wouldn't lose him.

Emily's POV

Meanwhile, Emily sat at her small rented apartment, spreading papers and

reports across the coffee table. She tried — really tried — to focus on the

project, on the data, on the numbers. But Ethan's face kept intruding.

The way his voice had dropped when he'd said her name yesterday. The flicker

of emotion she'd seen behind his carefully controlled mask.

She pressed her palms to her eyes.

"Stop it, Emily," she muttered. "You're here to work. That's it."

But her heart, traitorous and aching, whispered: Why did he never fight

for you? Why did he let you go?

Suddenly, her phone buzzed. A message from her old friend: "Dinner

tonight? You need a break."

Emily hesitated, then typed back: "Yes. Please."

Maybe she did need a break. Maybe she needed to remind herself that she was

stronger now, smarter now — and not a teenager who still dreamed about a boy

she couldn't have.

Ethan's POV (later that evening)

As the sun set, Ethan sat alone in his office, staring at the city lights

below.

His fingers hovered over his phone. He wanted — irrationally, desperately —

to call Emily, to hear her voice, to explain. But explain what? That he was a

coward? That he'd let his family dictate his life? That he'd sold himself into

a marriage for the sake of a business empire?

He ran a hand through his hair.

The door opened softly, and Lexi stepped in, elegant in a cream dress, her

hand resting lightly on the doorframe.

"I brought you dinner," she said, holding up a bag. "You didn't come home."

He managed a tired smile. "Thanks, Lex."

As she set the food down on his desk, Lexi watched him closely. "Ethan… is

there something you want to tell me? About Emily?"

His heart clenched.

He could lie — and maybe he should. But the truth was: he didn't

even know what to tell himself.