Tell the World, The Hidden Magnate is Back

CH 3

Vivian's heels clicked against marble at nine a.m. She dropped her purse. Shrugged off her coat.

Ethan sat on the sofa. Still in yesterday's clothes. Eyes fixed on nothing.

"You look terrible." She kicked off her shoes. "My shoulders are killing me. Come here."

He didn't move.

Typical. Ryan would've already offered. Ryan noticed things—her tension, her needs, the details that made a woman feel valued. Ryan didn't have to be asked.

"Ethan. I said my shoulders—"

"Where were you last night?"

His voice was flat. Empty.

Something twisted in her chest. Guilt, maybe. Or just irritation that he'd make this difficult.

"The celebration banquet. Obviously." She moved to the mirror, checking her reflection. "My phone died. It happens."

"Four calls, Vivian. You didn't answer four calls."

"I was busy." She spun to face him. "What is this, an interrogation? Do I need to report my schedule now? File paperwork every time I attend a work event?"

He has no right. Not after everything I've accomplished.

Ethan reached into his pocket. Pulled out his phone.

"I need you to watch something."

"I don't have time for—"

He pressed play.

The video filled the screen. Hotel ballroom. Champagne. Ryan on one knee.

Vivian's blood went cold.

The video played on. Her own laughter. The kiss. The ring.

She couldn't breathe.

"I need an explanation." Ethan's voice was surgical. "That's all."

Shock hit first. He knows.

Then annoyance. So what if he knows? She'd been planning to tell him anyway.

And beneath that—irritation. He was supposed to find out after she'd handed him the papers. This ruined her timing.

Vivian's hand shot out. She slapped the phone from his grip. It skittered across the floor.

"You filmed me?" Her voice cracked. "You had someone spy on me?"

"Someone sent it." Ethan stood slowly. "Is it real?"

"How dare you—"

"Is it real?"

The question hung between them.

Vivian's nails dug into her palms. She couldn't look at him. Couldn't meet those eyes that had watched her for three years with something she'd mistaken for weakness.

Ryan was right. I've deserved better for three years. Better than coming home to a man who thinks microwaved dinners and folded laundry count as contributions.

"So what if it is?" The words came out hard, brittle. "Look at yourself, Ethan. Look at you."

She stepped closer, fury masking the panic rising in her chest.

"You think you're worthy of me? You think I should spend my life with someone whose biggest accomplishment is folding laundry?" Her voice rose. "I built an empire. I'm ringing the Nasdaq bell today. And what have you done? What have you ever done except follow me around like some pathetic—"

"Is that your reason?"

He cut through her tirade like a blade.

"Is that your reason for cheating on me?"

Cheating.

The word was technically accurate. But it wasn't like Ethan hadn't known this was coming.

Vivian opened her mouth. The justifications were there—You never supported my ambitions. You never understood what I needed. Ryan sees me for who I really am.

And they were all true.

"Yes," she said finally. "I cheated. With someone who's actually my equal. Someone who doesn't measure his worth in how well he can fold my clothes.”

Her gaze slid away. "If you say it's true, then fine. It's true."

The admission tasted like ash.

Ethan smiled. Actually smiled—a terrible, broken thing.

"Then this makes it simple."

He pulled papers from his jacket. Manila envelope, already creased. He signed the bottom page—three quick strokes.

Vivian's heart stopped.

Divorce papers.

"What—"

"I spent all night worried someone was sabotaging you." Ethan's voice was distant. "Fabricated footage to damage your IPO. Competitors playing dirty." He held out the papers. "I'm relieved it's just infidelity."

Just infidelity.

He handed her the papers. She took them automatically, hands numb.

"I'm not the type to make a scene. No one will hear about this from me. Your reputation stays intact. Your company, your success—all of it stays clean."

No.

Fury hit like a tidal wave.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. She was supposed to present the papers. She was supposed to control this moment, to walk away victorious.

Not have him stand there acting like HE was the one making the decision.

"You planned this." Her voice shook. "You've been planning this, haven't you? Just waiting for me to slip up so you could—"

"Vivian."

"—play the victim? Make yourself look noble while I look like the villain? That's pathetic, Ethan. Even for you.”

"Vivian."

She stopped. Breathing hard. The papers crumpled in her fist.

Ethan looked tired. So deeply tired.

"Calm down." He said it quietly. "Think about what you want. Really want." He moved toward the door. "I'll come back for those in three days."

"Wait—"

He kept walking.

This isn't right. Something's wrong. Why does it feel like I'm losing—

"Ethan, wait—"

The door handle turned.

Panic exploded into rage.

"If you walk out that door, don't you dare think about coming back!" Her voice went cold, vicious. "I'll make sure everyone knows you abandoned me right after my IPO. That you're a jealous, bitter loser who couldn't handle my success. You'll regret this!”

He paused. Hand on the door.

For a moment, she thought he'd turn around and beg. Maybe he'll knee—

"Goodbye, Vivian."

The door closed.