chapter 75: My sister

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Chapter 75 – Damon's POV

"My Sister?!"

I was halfway through chopping vegetables for Arya — something about her craving spicy jollof with grilled pineapple (don't ask) — when Ethan walked in.

"Hey," he said casually, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge like he owned the place.

I didn't look up. "Hey."

He stood there for a moment, then cleared his throat.

I kept chopping.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

That got my attention.

Not because Ethan never wanted to talk — but because when he did, it usually meant something big. Something uncomfortable. Something I probably wasn't going to like.

I put the knife down and turned to face him, wiping my hands on the dish towel. "Alright. What's going on?"

He leaned against the counter, looking more nervous than I'd seen him in a long time. Ethan Lantel didn't do nervous — not unless it mattered.

And that's when I knew.

This was going to be bad.

"I'm… seeing someone," he started.

I raised a brow. "Okay? And?"

He hesitated. "It's Amara."

Silence.

At first, I thought I misheard him.

I blinked. "Come again?"

He cleared his throat again, shifting uncomfortably. "Amara. Your sister. We've been talking for a while now. After the dinner at Arya's, things… happened. And I've been trying to make it right ever since."

I stared at him.

And then I laughed.

Not because it was funny.

But because if I didn't laugh, I might explode.

"You're joking," I said flatly. "Tell me you're joking."

Ethan frowned. "No. I'm not."

I pushed away from the counter, stepping closer to him. "You mean to tell me that you — with your history, your reputation, your record — thought it was a good idea to touch my sister?"

He held up a hand. "I didn't plan for it to happen, Damon. It just did."

"No," I snapped. "You don't 'just happen' with Amara. She's not one of those random girls you flirt with in clubs or drop when something better comes along. She's not temporary. She's not a game."

"I know that," he said firmly. "That's why I've been taking it seriously."

"Seriously?" I scoffed. "Ethan, I've seen you. You switch women like clothes. You ghost them. You lie to them."

His jaw tightened. "That was before."

I narrowed my eyes. "Was it?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "Because I've never felt for anyone what I feel for her. And I'm not trying to hurt her. I'm trying to do this right."

My fists clenched at my sides.

Because I wanted to believe him.

But my instincts — the protective, brotherly, don't-you-dare-hurt-my-family instincts — wouldn't let me.

"She's been through enough," I said harshly. "She's sensitive. And whether you see it or not, she hides it behind all that sass and sarcasm."

"I do see it," he said. "That's why I'm here. That's why I'm telling you."

"And what?" I snapped. "You want my blessing? You want me to pat you on the back and say 'good job for dating my baby sister'?"

"No," he said quietly. "I want your trust."

I paused.

Because I knew Ethan.

Knew his flaws, his weaknesses, his darkest chapters.

But I also knew something else.

He loved Arya once — quietly, from a distance, never crossing a line.

He stepped aside when she chose me.

He stayed loyal even when he was hurting.

So maybe… just maybe… this wasn't a game for him anymore.

Still, that didn't make it easier.

"She's not a second chance project," I said tightly. "She's not someone you fix your image with. You don't get to rewrite your past using her as a pen."

"I'm not," he said. "I'm writing something new. With her."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Does she know you told me?"

"No. I wanted to do this the right way."

That earned him half a point.

I walked back to the counter and stared down at the cutting board. My mind was racing. My chest was tight. My instincts screamed protect her — but something deep down whispered listen.

After a long silence, I muttered, "You hurt her, Ethan… I swear to God, you won't be walking out of it the same."

He nodded. "I wouldn't expect to."

"And you'd better be ready," I added. "Because she's not like anyone else. Amara might act tough, but she breaks deeper than most."

"I know," he said, voice low. "That's why I'm terrified."

I finally looked at him.

And for once… I saw no cocky smirk. No guarded arrogance.

Just a man… trying to be better for someone he cared about.

I still didn't like it.

Didn't trust it completely.

But I wasn't going to stand in their way.

Not yet.

Not if Amara already made her choice.

"Alright," I said after a beat. "You've told me."

Ethan nodded.

"That doesn't mean I like it," I added sharply. "But it means I won't drag you by your collar into the street."

He cracked the tiniest smile. "That's comforting."

"Don't push it."

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As he turned to leave, I called out, "Ethan."

He glanced back.

"If you're serious about her… prove it. Every damn day."

He met my eyes. "I already plan to."

And just like that, he was gone.

But I stood there a little longer — heart pounding, knife forgotten — thinking about how fast life had changed.

My best friend was dating my sister.

And somehow… I didn't kill him.

Yet.

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