Chapter Three
Of all the places in Boston, Ethan hadn't expected to see them here.
Sarah.
Drake.
Standing in the middle of B Corporation's marble-floored lobby like they owned the place.
The irony was almost poetic.
But unlike their shock at finding him, Ethan's expression remained cold, controlled. That rage from earlier—the cold, simmering hatred he'd felt when Sarah first appeared—still burned beneath the surface. But he'd learned long ago how to wear a mask.
Three years in prison had taught him patience.
Ethan stood slowly, adjusting his sleeves with deliberate calm, and met Sarah's furious gaze.
"I'm not here for you," he said flatly. "I'm here at someone else's request. You're not worth my time."
Sarah's jaw dropped, clearly not expecting that response.
Drake laughed—sharp and mocking. "Someone else's request?" He stepped forward, sneering. "Who the hell in B Corporation would invite you? What, did they need an ex-con for security? Maybe you're here to keep the peace as their new bouncer?" He glanced back at Sarah with an exaggerated grin. "Look at that—our criminal friend is popular enough to get a job invite!"
A few heads turned in the lobby. The receptionist shifted uncomfortably.
Ethan's jaw tightened, but his voice stayed level. "This is unreasonable. Move."
He tried to walk past them, but Drake's hand shot out, gripping his arm hard.
"Not so fast, trash," Drake sneered. "You know what would be pathetic? A CEO's ex-husband reduced to working security. Imagine the headlines: ‘Sarah’s ex reduced to security work.’" He laughed. "We can’t have that kind of embarrassment, can we?"
He smirked at Sarah. "It’d be so embarrassing for you, babe—your loser ex-husband scrubbing floors and playing rent-a-cop."
Sarah crossed her arms, lips curling with disdain. "God, that would be humiliating."
Drake reached into his jacket and pulled out a black bank card. With deliberate, insulting slowness, he waved it in front of Ethan's face like bait.
"Tell you what," Drake said, voice dripping with arrogance. "I'm feeling generous today. I'll set you up with some welfare money—a few thousand a month. Enough to keep you fed so you don't have to embarrass yourself showing up at places like this." He leaned closer. "All you gotta do is stay invisible. Don't embarrass Sarah. Don't embarrass us. Just disappear like the nobody you are."
Then he slapped the card against Ethan's face.
Not hard. Just enough to sting. Enough to humiliate.
The sound echoed through the lobby—sharp, insulting, unmistakable.
A woman near the elevators gasped. The receptionist's hand flew to her mouth. Two security guards shifted forward, uncertain. Sarah's lips curved into a satisfied smirk.
Rage flooded through Ethan like wildfire.
Every muscle in his body screamed to move, to strike, to wipe that smug grin off Drake's face and make him regret ever touching him. His fists clenched. His jaw locked.
But no.
Not here.
This was B Corporation—Victoria Chen's territory. Causing a scene here would reflect badly on her, and she was the warden's daughter. The last thing Ethan needed was to create problems for the woman he'd just agreed to help. And beyond that, drawing attention—getting caught on camera assaulting someone in a corporate lobby—would expose him before he'd even had a chance to establish himself.
He couldn't afford that. Not yet.
Ethan forced himself to breathe. Slowly. Deliberately.
Then his hand moved.
Years of training under the Chairman kicked in—fluid, precise, controlled. In one smooth motion, he twisted Drake's wrist and applied pressure to a nerve cluster.
Drake's grip released instantly, his face contorting in pain as he stumbled back, cradling his hand.
"What the—!" Drake gasped, shock and fury warring on his face.
Ethan's expression stayed cold, his voice flat. "Don't touch me again."
Sarah's eyes went wide.
"You—!" she shrieked. "He assaulted you! Call security! This man is dangerous!"
She spun toward the reception desk, but Drake grabbed her wrist, pulling her back roughly.
"Shut up, Sarah!" Drake snapped, surprising her.
"But he just—"
"This is B Corporation," Drake hissed, glancing around at the curious stares. "We're not making a scene here and ruining our image. You'll destroy our chances."
Sarah bit her lip, fury and humiliation burning in her chest, but she forced herself into silence.
Drake turned back to Ethan, his voice low and venomous. "I'll remember this. You’ll regret ever laying a hand on me. I’ll make you pay for this—double."
Ethan didn't flinch. He simply turned away, dismissing Drake entirely, and looked at Sarah.
"Do you have to be this heartless?"
The question caught her off guard.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, her voice sharp.
"This morning you called me worthless. Now you're here trying to humiliate me in public." His gaze was steady, cold. "Was any of it real? Or was I always just a tool to you?"
Sarah scoffed, her face hardening. "What can I do about treating you this way, Ethan? You were useful once. You helped my family. But that was years ago. I've moved on to better things. Better people." She gestured at Drake. "You're the past. And I don't waste time on the past."
Ethan nodded slowly, something settling in his chest—not quite closure, but close enough.
"Then we're done. Completely. Whatever we had—it's severed. Don't expect me to acknowledge you again."
"Good," Sarah spat. "Because I won't acknowledge you."
The tension broke as sharp footsteps echoed through the lobby.
A woman in a fitted suit strode in, heels clicking loudly across the marble. She wore an earpiece, carried a tablet, and moved with urgency.
She headed straight for the reception desk.
"Where is he?" the secretary asked briskly. "The guest Ms. Chen is expecting—where is he?"
The receptionist, still rattled from the commotion, pointed toward the waiting area. "Over there, ma'am."
The secretary's eyes scanned sharply. "This guest is extremely important. Ms. Chen was very clear—he cannot be delayed or disrespected. He's a top-priority visitor."
Sarah's pulse spiked, heart racing.
An important guest. Priority treatment.
She looked at Drake, then around the lobby. It was only them—and Ethan. Then she quickly concluded that Drake must be the VIP the secretary mentioned. After all, Drake carried far more influence, wealth, and connections than she did. It certainly couldn’t be someone like Ethan. That was impossible. A dead weight like him had no place here.
She turned to Drake, barely containing her excitement. "Drake! Did you hear that? They're talking about you! Ms. Chen must've been impressed!"
Drake frowned, surprised. That was unexpected. Victoria Chen had always been cold toward him—rejecting his proposals, dismissing his family's influence. But she'd also mentioned she only had a charity gala tonight. No other appointments.
And it certainly couldn't be... His eyes flicked briefly to Ethan. That convict.
Victoria had always looked down on his playboy lifestyle and his family. So why was today any different?
Or had Victoria Chen suddenly taken an interest in him?
With that idea in mind, he smirked, pleased with himself, and played along.
He nodded slowly, ego swelling. "She must've finally recognized my family's value." He smiled arrogantly. “Of course—took her long enough.”
Sarah beamed. "This is it, Drake. This is our moment."
The secretary moved across the lobby, scanning faces.
"Excuse me!" Sarah stepped forward eagerly, smoothing her skirt and flashing her most charming smile. "We're here for Ms. Chen! We're so grateful for her consideration. We truly value this opportunity!"
The secretary stopped, blinking in confusion. "I'm sorry—who are you?"
Sarah's smile faltered. "Sarah. And this is Drake Hastings. We have an appointment with Ms. Chen to discuss a partnership."
The secretary glanced at her tablet, frowning. "Drake Hastings... Yes, you have a nine-thirty appointment scheduled. But—"
Drake stepped forward with confidence, puffing out his chest in pride. "Is there a problem? We heard Ms. Chen was expecting an important guest. That would be us, clearly."
The secretary's professional mask slipped slightly.
She knew them both. Drake Hastings—multiple rejected proposals, declining family influence, playboy reputation. Sarah—nobody. New money at best.
But Ms. Chen had been specific. The guest was someone highly capable who required careful attention. Someone who commanded respect.
These two didn't fit.
Still, except for them, the only other person waiting was that plain-dressed man in the corner. There was no way he could be the VIP Ms. Chen described.
Impossible, she thought.
The secretary's training took over.
"Please, follow me," she said, gesturing toward the elevators. "Ms. Chen will meet you in the VIP room."
Sarah’s face lit up with triumph. She shot a smug glance at Ethan, making sure he was watching before linking arms with Drake.
"Shall we?" she purred.
Drake nodded, moving with pride and confidence, a smug smile on his lips as if he had the whole world under his feet.
They'd barely taken three steps when a calm, controlled voice cut through the air.
"Excuse me."
Everyone froze.
Ethan walked toward them with calm, measured steps, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp.
"I think there’s been a mistake," he said, addressing the secretary directly. "I’m the guest Ms. Chen is expecting."
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Chapter Seventy-EightSarah stumbled forward, nearly falling, catching herself on the arm of a chair.Behind her, she could hear more laughter, more comments, but her brain could no longer process the words clearly. Everything was becoming fuzzy, distant, unreal.Just get to the door. Just get to the door. Just get to the door.The mantra played on repeat in her failing consciousness as she forced her drugged body forward, step by agonizing step, toward the exit and whatever slim chance of escape it might represent.She could hear movement behind her now—someone standing up, footsteps approaching.Sarah's hand finally reached the door handle. She grabbed it with trembling fingers, tried to turn it.Everything was spinning. Her strength was fading. The drug was winning.But she had to try. Had to fight.Had to escape before it was too late.With a surge of pure survival instinct and adrenaline, Sarah managed to twist the handle and pull the door open. She staggered out into the corrido
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Chapter Seventy-SevenSarah Wilson stepped through the entrance and immediately into another world—one that assaulted her senses with its intensity and chaos.The first floor of the club was a pulsing mass of humanity. Music blared at a volume so high it was almost physical, the bass vibrating through the floor and up through Sarah's body with each thunderous beat. Strobe lights cut through the darkness in rhythmic flashes, illuminating the crowd in stuttering fragments—bodies pressed together, arms raised, people dancing with abandon or shouting conversations that couldn't possibly be heard over the deafening music.The air was thick with heat, sweat, expensive perfume, and alcohol. The crowd was young, wealthy, and reckless—the kind of people who came to exclusive clubs to lose themselves in excess without consequence.Sarah followed the security guard closely, staying right behind him as he navigated through the writhing crowd with practiced ease, his large frame clearing a path th
Chapter 76
Chapter Seventy-Six“Hello?""Sarah Wilson!" A familiar male voice came through the line—smooth, confident, and sending immediate chills running down her spine despite the warm temperature in her room."Ca... Caleb?" she breathed out, completely astonished. How did he get her number? She'd never given it to him, had specifically avoided doing so precisely to prevent situations like this. "How... how did you get—”"Your spineless boyfriend gave it to me," Caleb cut her off smoothly, his tone suggesting Drake's betrayal was both expected and amusing to him. "Quite readily, actually. Didn't even require much persuasion."Sarah felt a flash of anger and betrayal course through her. Drake had given Caleb her private number? How could he do that? What right did he have to hand out her contact information, especially to someone like Caleb Stone?"Have you thought carefully about what I offered you last night?" Caleb continued, not giving her time to process her anger at Drake. "About the opp
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Chapter Seventy-FiveSarah Wilson sat on her bed, still in her silk pajamas despite it being nearly noon, staring blankly at the ornate wallpaper of her bedroom without really seeing it. Her mind was completely occupied, spiraling through the events of the previous evening's auction over and over again in an exhausting loop.How did it happen? How did Ethan Cole—her ex-husband, the man she'd divorced and left with absolutely nothing—manage to pull off something so spectacular, so impossible?Forty million dollars. He'd bid forty million dollars without even flinching, without showing the slightest hesitation or concern. He'd said the number like it was nothing, like forty million was pocket change, lunch money, completely insignificant.And that card. God, that Black Gold Card that he'd used to pay.Drake had explained it away with that theory about Ethan borrowing it from the Chairman, acting as some kind of glorified errand boy. And Sarah desperately wanted to believe that explanati
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Chapter Seventy-FourEthan drove his sleek black sedan into the underground parking structure of Apex Consolidated Industries, navigating smoothly through the security checkpoint where the guards immediately recognized his vehicle and waved him through without hesitation. He pulled into his designated spot in the VIP garage—a private section reserved exclusively for top executives and the Chairman himself.The VIP garage was dramatically different from the regular employee parking—quieter, more spacious, with polished concrete floors and premium lighting. Only about ten vehicles ever occupied this exclusive space, and each parking spot had the owner's name and title etched into a brass plate mounted on the wall.Ethan's spot simply read: "Chairman."He stepped out of his car, the door closing with that solid, expensive sound that only high-end vehicles produced. He paused for a moment to adjust his shirt sleeves, ensuring they sat perfectly at his wrists, then straightened his silk ti
Chapter 73
Chapter Seventy-ThreeCaleb Stone's car, flanked by two accompanying vehicles filled with his security entourage, pulled into the Stone Mansion's circular driveway with calculated style and precision. The convoy moved in perfect formation—a display of power and coordination that the Stone family had perfected over generations.The Stone Mansion itself was a testament to wealth and influence that needed no explanation. The family name was elegantly encrypted into the stonework above the grand entrance, but honestly, the inscription was almost unnecessary. The sheer size and architectural magnificence of the building already made an unmistakable statement: this property belonged to extremely high-profile people who wielded genuine power in Boston and far beyond.The mansion rose three stories high, with wings extending in both directions from the central structure. Manicured gardens surrounded the property, illuminated by strategically placed lights that cast dramatic shadows across per
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