Slept With An "Ex-convict Nobody" - A Hidden Trillionaire!

Chapter 6: Her nightmare is back

The early afternoon sun cast long shadows over the bustling Central Business District of Sun Industrial City, a world far more polished and opulent than the grimy nightclub corners where Ethan had danced with danger the night before.

Standing before a sleek, mirrored building that towered like a monument to capitalism was Ethan Northstrum, hands in his pockets, dressed in simple, neat clothes that whispered ordinary to the untrained eye. But Ethan didn’t care. The document tucked securely into his jacket was the only thing on his mind.

He glanced up at the massive logo engraved in brushed steel:

Norand Interior Limited.

This was the place.

Inside the modern lobby, with high ceilings and glass decor, receptionists chatted idly behind a marble desk until Ethan entered. Their conversation halted, replaced by lingering glances and raised brows.

One of them—Lynette, the senior receptionist—straightened up, her expression shifting quickly from interest to professional indifference. She gave Ethan a head-to-toe scan: plain shoes, no visible brand-name tags, no watch, no entourage, no obvious wealth.

A few of the other girls exchanged whispers.

“He’s cute, but… broke,” one murmured under her breath.

“Just a pretty face—not worth it,” another snickered.

Unfazed, Ethan stepped forward.

“I’m here to see Emma Robbins,” he said coolly.

Lynette arched a brow. “Do you have an appointment with Ms. Robbins?”

“No. But I have something of hers.”

She scoffed, leaning back, her manicured nails clicking. “What could you have for Ms. Robbins? Delivery boy?” 

The other receptionists stifled laughs, their eyes glinting with amusement. 

Ethan’s smile didn’t falter. “Not delivery. I’m returning something from last night.” 

Lynette’s eyes narrowed, a smirk curling her lips as she misread his words—an affair, a scandal, too absurd for a man like him. “Last night? In your dreams,” she said, her voice sharp. “Do you even know who Emma Robbins is?”

Ethan shrugged, his calm unshaken. “Met her last night. Don’t know much else.” 

Lynette’s jaw dropped, her disbelief palpable. 

“You’re lying,” she snapped, leaning forward. “Emma Robbins is every bachelor’s dream. CEO of Norand Interior, top five industry-leading women under 30, net worth over half a billion. She’s a celebrity—our idol. From a prominent family, courted by the city’s elite. You?” 

Her eyes raked him again, lingering on his plain clothes. “You don’t belong here.”

Ethan nodded, unfazed, letting her words roll off like water. Lynette’s rant painted a picture—Emma wasn’t just any woman; she was a titan, a queen in this city’s glittering hierarchy. 

His one-night stand, a drunken mistake, was with someone extraordinary. The thought sparked intrigue; she might be worthy of more than a night, a match for the Almighty Master Ethan Northstrum. 

“Sounds impressive,” he said, his tone light. “Can you take me to her now?”

Lynette huffed, crossing her arms. “Show me what you’ve got.” 

Ethan opened the envelope just enough to reveal the header—Enzogrande Corporation—its bold font a beacon. 

Lynette’s eyes widened, her smugness faltering. Everyone at Norand knew of the failed Enzogrande deal, a blow that had sent Emma spiraling. 

She snatched the phone, dialing the CEO’s office, her voice tight. “Ms. Robbins, someone’s here with… the Enzogrande document.”

A few moments later, Jennifer, Emma’s personal assistant, stepped out from the glass elevator and walked briskly toward Ethan. “Mr…?”

“Ethan.”

“Mr. Ethan, this way please. Ms. Robbins is expecting you.”

He followed her past gasps, side-eyes, and open mouths from the staff who moments ago had laughed at him.

---

In the CEO’s office, a sleek sanctuary of glass and leather, Emma Robbins sat on a cream sofa, her auburn hair pulled into a loose bun, her navy blazer crisp despite the shadows under her eyes. 

Across from her, Stella and Tracy—her closest friends—sipped coffee, their designer bags resting on the glass table. 

The air was warm with the scent of espresso and their quiet concern. News of Norand’s lost Enzogrande contract had hit their group chat last night, followed by Emma’s radio silence. 

Stella, her blonde curls bouncing, leaned forward. “Where were you, Em? You ghosted us after that message. We were worried.”

Emma’s fingers tightened around her mug, her gaze distant. “I drove out of the city,” she said, voice low. “Some small town on the outskirts, needed to be alone.” 

She recounted the night—arriving at the Electric Viper, drowning her loss in martinis, Cobra’s men harassing her. “Some guy stepped in, saved me, but… my memory’s a mess.” Her voice faltered, the fog of alcohol obscuring the club’s chaos.

Tracy, her dark eyes sharp, frowned. “You went alone? No security?” 

Emma nodded, her lips tight. “Just me.” 

Stella’s brow furrowed. “Then what?” 

Emma hesitated, her mug trembling. “I woke up in a hotel… with a stranger. A guy I’d never met. We…” She swallowed, shame burning her cheeks. “It was a drunk one-night stand. No protection.”

Stella gasped, her coffee splashing, while Tracy’s eyes lit up, a grin breaking. 

“Scandalous! Was it worth it?” 

Emma shook her head, confusion warring with regret. “I don’t know him. What if there’s… consequences?” 

Stella reached for her hand, soothing. “You’ll never see him again. Nothing to worry about.” 

Tracy leaned back, smirking. “Spill the details, Em.”

Emma steered away, her voice heavy. “Without Enzogrande, my company’s sinking. I need fifty million to keep it afloat, and I don’t have it. Grandfather will hand the family legacy to my cousins now.” 

Her shoulders slumped, the weight of failure crushing. Stella squeezed her hand, but before Tracy could respond, the door opened. 

Jennifer, Emma’s PA, stepped in, her face tense. “Ms. Robbins, someone’s here to see you—with the Enzogrande document.”

Emma’s heart skipped, her friends exchanging glances. 

“Lead him in,” she said, setting her mug down, her voice steady despite the churn in her gut. 

Jennifer nodded, and the door swung wide. 

Ethan stepped in, the envelope in hand, his lanky frame filling the doorway. 

His eyes swept the room—three women, stunning in their tailored elegance, sipping coffee in the plush lounge. 

His gaze landed on the last, and recognition hit like a spark. The woman in the red gown, the damsel from the Viper, now in a blazer, her auburn hair catching the light.

Emma’s eyes met his, her mug frozen mid-air, coffee trembling. 

Not the club—she didn’t recall that—but the hotel bed, his face beside hers in the morning light. 

Shock widened her eyes, her breath catching, the room’s warmth turning cold. 

Him. 

The stranger she’d fled, the mistake she feared. Ethan’s lips curved, a faint smile, as he held up the envelope, the Enzogrande header glinting like a promise.