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Chapter 119 – Ethan's POV
"Let Them Stare"
The elevator ride was silent. But not awkward. Amara's hand was warm in mine, her thumb lazily brushing over my knuckles, and I didn't want to let go.
I wasn't nervous. I just wasn't used to being seen like this.
For most of my adult life, privacy had been power. Mystery was a shield I wore like armor. But today? I was walking into my own building hand-in-hand with the woman I loved — and I didn't care who saw.
I had no plans to hide anymore.
No fake meetings, no carefully timed exits, no avoiding being in the same room with her too long.
I was done pretending. Done lying to myself. Done living behind the mask of CEO perfection.
The ding of the elevator snapped me back to the present. Amara gave me a quick glance, one brow raised, like she was checking in silently.
"You good?" she murmured, barely audible.
I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Perfect."
As the doors slid open to the top floor of Lantel Media Group, every eye in the hallway turned.
Whispers.
Frozen fingers hovering over keyboards.
A pen dropped.
Someone gasped.
And I didn't give a damn.
I tightened my hold on her hand and led her forward, moving slowly, deliberately.
Amara's steps were steady beside me, but I could feel the tension in her arm. She was bracing for impact.
This wasn't just a workplace romance.
This was the Ethan Lantel, cold-blooded boss, feared by interns and department heads alike, suddenly walking in like a lovesick fool with his personal assistant's hand locked in his.
Some people blinked like they were hallucinating.
Others whispered too loudly.
"He's holding her hand—"
"Is that Amara? I thought she was just his assistant."
"She's definitely more than that now…"
We kept walking.
I could feel every stare. Every unspoken question.
And then we passed the glass-walled conference room where Arya sat with a team of creatives, reviewing pitches for the fall campaign. She turned just in time to see us.
Her mouth dropped open in surprise—then morphed into the slowest, most satisfied smirk I'd ever seen on her.
She lifted a hand in a mocking little wave.
I rolled my eyes but didn't slow down.
When we reached Amara's desk, she hesitated, starting to pull her hand free.
I didn't let her.
Instead, I turned toward her, right in the middle of the floor, in front of God, the entire design team, three assistants, and a stunned-looking manager.
And I kissed her.
Right there.
Right in the middle of everything.
It wasn't rushed. It wasn't for show. It was firm, slow, deliberate — a kiss that said: She's mine. We're real. Ask whatever you want, but this isn't going away.
When I pulled back, her eyes were wide. Her cheeks flushed.
And behind us?
Dead silence.
Until someone coughed and someone else dropped their phone.
I turned to the floor. "Let me save you all the time and whispering. Yes, Amara and I are in a relationship. Yes, it's serious. Yes, the board already knows."
That part was true — I'd called them this morning. Half were shocked. The other half claimed they already suspected something. One even congratulated me. In short: no one cared as long as I didn't break harassment policies or blow up the press.
I continued, voice calm but firm, "No, this will not affect how this company is run. If anything, expect more peace in the office, because I'm happier now than I've been in years."
A few chuckles.
Someone actually clapped before catching themselves.
I turned to Amara again, lowering my voice. "You still okay?"
She blinked like she was trying to come back to earth. "You kissed me."
"You kissed back."
Her lips twitched. "You just gave the entire office whiplash."
"Good. Maybe now they'll finally stop assuming I live in a glass tower and cry on money."
She laughed quietly, then reached up to fix my collar. "You know this means everyone's going to be watching us like hawks now."
I leaned closer. "Let them. I'm done hiding."
She swallowed hard, but I saw the emotion behind her eyes. She wasn't used to being chosen this way — in public, with pride.
I intended to keep doing it every damn day.
I gave her hand a final squeeze and started walking toward my office.
Of course, Arya was already waiting for me, arms folded and leaning against the glass like she'd been expecting this plot twist all along.
"Ethan Lantel," she said as I approached, her tone somewhere between amusement and judgment. "You romantic fool."
I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. "Go ahead. Roast me."
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding? That was the most emotionally available thing I've ever seen you do."
I blinked. "Really?"
"Yeah." She stepped inside my office, lowered her voice, and grinned. "Also, that kiss? Ten out of ten. You almost broke Brian's brain."
I couldn't help it—I laughed.
Arya tilted her head. "So… this is real? You and Amara?"
"As real as it gets," I said quietly.
She looked at me for a long second, then nodded, genuinely pleased. "Good. You deserve this."
"And so does she," I added.
She smirked. "You finally ready to stop being a self-sabotaging idiot?"
"Trying my best," I muttered.
She patted my shoulder. "Well. Don't screw it up."
"I won't."
I meant it.
This wasn't a fling.
This wasn't office gossip waiting to die down.
This was the beginning of the rest of my life — and I wanted it with her. No secrets. No shadows. Just me and Amara, out in the open, together.
Let the world stare.
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End of Chapter 119 – Ethan's POV