The Heir Behind the Wheel

Chapter 10. The Reflection

"My name is Harper. Harper Reed. I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner, Mr. Cole."

The young woman gave a small, polite bow. Her voice was steady, professional, but there was a tightness in her shoulders that hadn't been there a moment ago.

Ethan kept his eyes forward. On the elevator doors. On the numbers climbing. Floor after floor, ticking upward in silence.

"Not your fault," he said. Flat. Not cold. Not warm. Just factual. "They were looking for trouble either way. Had nothing to do with you."

Beside him, he heard her exhale. Slow. Quiet. The kind of breath people let out when they've been holding it too long.

He didn't look at her. But he could feel the tension leave her frame. Like she'd been bracing for something ugly and it never came.

The elevator hummed. Soft. Steady. The only sound in the small glass box.

Then, without meaning to, his eyes shifted.

Not to her directly. To the polished metal wall beside them. Their reflection stared back at him. Two silhouettes standing close but not touching.

And for a moment, he just... looked.

Her ponytail was strange. No. Not strange. Unique. It was pink. A bright, unmistakable shade of pink that had no business existing in a hotel this expensive. It should have looked ridiculous. Out of place.

But it didn't.

It looked like her.

*She's pretty,* the thought surfaced before he could stop it.

There was something off about the whole picture. The crisp navy suit. The perfect posture. The professional tone. But then that splash of pink, bouncing slightly with every step. Serious and playful at the same time. Like someone had tried very hard to fit a mold and then painted the outside a different color.

Ethan cleared his throat.

He looked away. Fast. Stared at the floor numbers again like they were the most interesting thing in the world.

*Get it together.*

Ting.

The doors slid open.

Harper stepped out first, her heels clicking against the marble in a steady rhythm. She moved like she'd walked this hallway a hundred times. Maybe she had.

Ethan followed. His eyes swept the space without meaning to. The floors were white marble, polished until they looked like water. A chandelier hung overhead, massive, dripping with crystal. The walls were lined with dark wood and soft lighting. Everything felt too big. Too quiet. Too expensive for someone who'd been sleeping on a lumpy mattress three days ago.

"Right this way," Harper said softly.

She stopped in front of a set of tall double doors. She pulled them open and stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter.

Ethan crossed the threshold.

"Ethan! My boy! I've been waiting for you!"

The voice hit him before the man did.

Arthur Cole rose from his seat, his face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. His smile was wide. Open. The kind of smile that didn't belong on the face of a man who had spent decades building an empire.

He crossed the room fast. Faster than Ethan expected. His steps were almost hurried, almost clumsy.

And before Ethan could react, Arthur wrapped his arms around him.

Tight. Too tight. Like a man holding onto something he thought the ocean had taken forever. Ethan was taller. Broader. But Arthur didn't care. He held on like the boy in his arms might dissolve if he let go.

Ethan stood still.

He didn't hug back. But he didn't pull away either.

His arms hung at his sides. His chest felt full and empty at the same time. Too many things pressing in. Too many feelings he didn't have names for.

"Come," Arthur whispered, still gripping his arm. "Let's sit."

Ethan let himself be guided to a chair. The leather was soft. Warm. He sank into it without thinking.

Arthur sat across from him. His hands rested on his knees. They were shaking. Just slightly. Just enough for Ethan to notice.

"You grew up this much," Arthur said, his voice dropping. "All alone. You did well, Ethan. You did so well."

He paused. Swallowed.

"I'm sorry."

Two words. Heavy. Like stones dropped into still water.

"I'm sorry I came too late. If I had used my head instead of my pride, I never would have let Evelyn leave this house. I thought she'd come back. I told myself she'd walk through that door one day and everything would be fine." His voice cracked. "I forgot that you were more important than my ego. I'm sorry, son. I'm so sorry."

Arthur lowered his head. His hands trembled harder now.

"Evelyn..."

The name came out like a prayer. Barely a whisper.

"I loved her," he continued. "I loved her so much. But I never said it. Not once. Not out loud. And now..." His breath hitched. "This regret. It's crushing me, Ethan. I'm sorry. I truly, truly am."

His shoulders shook. The sound that came out of him wasn't loud. It was small. Broken. The kind of crying that didn't want to be heard.

The room went silent except for that sound.

Ethan sat very still.

His eyes burned. He blinked. Once. Twice. The image of his mother flashed behind his eyelids. Her voice. Her face. The way she used to hum while cooking dinner. And then the memory he always pushed away. The last argument. The words he'd shouted. The door slamming.

He never got to say sorry.

And this old man in front of him hadn't even gotten a goodbye.

Ethan's hands curled into fists on his lap.

For the first time in his life, he didn't know if he wanted to be angry. Or if he just wanted to grieve.

The door burst open.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cole, I tried to stop—" Derek's voice cut off mid-sentence.

Arthur raised one hand. Sharp. Final. A command without words.

Derek stopped. Stepped back.

But the man behind him didn't.

He walked in like he owned the room. Late forties. Tailored suit. Silver at his temples. His face was smooth, relaxed, but his eyes were hard. Calculating. They swept over Ethan and stopped.

"Brother," the man said, his tone bright, almost cheerful. But the smile on his lips was thin. Sharp. "What important guest do you have here that you're ignoring me for?"

His gaze lingered on Ethan. Long. Cold. Something flickered behind his eyes. Dislike. Suspicion. Then it was gone, buried under that easy grin.

"Wow," he said lightly, tilting his head. "Looks like the Cole family, doesn't he? What, are you fantasizing about having an heir again?" He chuckled. Soft. Cruel. "You remember what happened two years ago, right? The last time you did this? The one who scammed you out of millions?"