The Price of Losing You

Chapter 40: The Price of Losing You

The night after the gala, Ethan didn't go home.

Not to the penthouse.

Not to the company apartment.

He wandered the city like a ghost, watching the sunrise from his car, parked in front of the building where Li used to live before the contract changed everything.

He hadn't realized how much he relied on her until she looked him in the eye and said she was never really his.

At 9:00 a.m., the boardroom was unusually tense.

Su Rina sat at the head of the table, acting as interim chair in Ethan's absence.

"I've submitted a motion," she said smoothly. "To evaluate Ms. Li's current involvement in high-level operations due to recent… emotional conflicts of interest."

Some members nodded, some looked uncomfortable.

Li, seated alone on the right side, didn't even blink.

"If you're questioning my professional capacity, I'll happily submit a full report," she said, voice calm. "But I won't tolerate being treated like a scandal."

Her tone made even Su Rina flinch.

Just then, the door opened.

Ethan walked in.

He looked like hell—shirt wrinkled, tie undone, stubble shadowing his jaw—but his eyes were clearer than ever.

He walked to the end of the table, took his seat, and spoke before anyone else could.

"If there's any doubt about professionalism," he said, "point it at me."

Murmurs spread across the room.

"Whatever happened between Ms. Li and myself is personal. If anyone should be removed, it's me."

Su Rina tried to interrupt. "Ethan, this is—"

He cut her off. "You're not Chair yet."

Then he turned to Li.

She was staring at him—not with love, not with anger. Just… silence.

After the meeting, he found her by the elevator.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me," he said quietly. "But I need you to know… I've never regretted anything more than hurting you."

Li didn't speak.

He stepped closer. "Losing you feels like losing the only real thing I ever had."

The elevator dinged.

She stepped in, looked at him, and whispered:

"Then maybe you should've protected it when it still mattered."

The doors closed.

Ethan was left alone—again.