**Rachel's POV**
The gorgeous stranger just said he was my favorite pastime. What the hell could he mean by my fav—
Holy shit!
I shook my head as it dawned on me who this familiar, handsome man could be.
“No, you can’t be... Are you... goggle-glasses Ethan?”
My eyes widened even more when he nodded.
This was goggle-glasses Ethan? What?!
“But you’re not... This is...” I stammered, completely confused.
Ethan Wright, as he now called himself, had just claimed he was my favorite pastime—and he wasn’t wrong. Back in high school, there was a boy I always picked on because of his oversized glasses. That boy... was the gorgeous man standing in front of me?
“Unbelievable,” I muttered, my eyes glued to his strong biceps bulging out of the tight T-shirt he wore.
The Ethan Wright I knew back in secondary school was a scrawny, nerdy kid with a tidy uniform and those infamous big glasses. Meanwhile, the man staring back at me now was huge, muscular, and absurdly handsome—a literal god!
“Surprising, isn’t it?” he said with a smirk, as if he could read my thoughts.
“No, it’s just that... The Ethan Wright I knew was...”
“Was what?” he interrupted, taking two steps toward me.
“Weak? Easily bullied? A fool? Lovestruck?” He kept advancing.
I stepped back in alarm and stumbled onto the bed. Quickly getting up, I thrust my hands out to stop him.
“Nerdish... I was going to say nerdish,” I said, dragging out the word for emphasis.
His smirk deepened, unconvinced.
“Look,” I began, exasperated. “Yes, I agree some of the words you used to describe yourself did cross my mind. But trust me—‘lovestruck’ wasn’t one of them.”
I sighed in relief when he finally stopped advancing. But then, he just stood there, staring at me.
Why was he staring? And that look—it was so intense, like he wanted to see into my soul.
I tried to focus my gaze on something—anything—that wasn’t Ethan’s gorgeous face or his ridiculously sculpted body. Think, Rachel. Think!
“Yes!” I said abruptly, seizing on a thought. “You still haven’t explained why you saved me. Anyone could clearly see I was trying to kill myself, not some drunk ass looking for relief.”
The memory hit me hard—I could’ve been dead by now. That was the plan, anyway. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with the repercussions of my actions.
Ethan just kept staring, even after I finished speaking.
Was there something on my face? I touched my cheek, just to be sure. Nothing felt out of the ordinary.
“Is there something on—”
“Do you want me to help you?” he interrupted again.
“Rude,” I muttered under my breath, though I was sure he heard it.
Help me?
“How can you help me?” I scoffed.
Ethan smirked again.
“Do you think I’m the same Ethan Wright you knew in high school? The weak one?” He took another step closer.
“No...” I shook my head, raising my hands defensively. Why did he keep walking toward me?
His gaze sent my heart racing wildly.
“Let me rephrase the question,” he said, his tone low and deliberate. “Why do you want my help? You don’t even know my motives. And even if you did—why would I want to help *you*?”
He stepped closer still.
“Like you said, I was your favorite pastime in high school. You bullied me to the point I had to leave. That was all because of you. So why would I want to help you now?”
His words cut deep. I stared at the handsome man standing before me.
This was Ethan Wright.
This was Ethan Wright.
This was *fucking* Ethan Wright!
How the hell did he get so rich?
When I first woke up, I’d been too preoccupied with the fact that I was in an unfamiliar place with an insanely attractive man to notice how lavishly furnished the room was. Everything—the furniture, the walls, even the floor—was exquisite and beautiful.
But Ethan... He couldn’t just be some help, could he? No, his posture and aura said otherwise.
Time had certainly been kind to him. As for me, time had destroyed me, piece by piece.
In high school and college, I was the queen bee—the girl everyone wanted to be. I foolishly chose David, and now this miserable life was all I had to show for it.
I shut my eyes, feeling the full weight of my self-pity.
Seconds passed. Ethan still didn’t speak. Worried, I opened my eyes again and looked down in shame.
“You should’ve just let me die,” I whispered. Then louder, “A lot of people want me dead. For the first time, I’m ready to give them what they want. I want to be free. I want peace!”
I yelled the last word as the weight of my guilt and shame came crashing down. Every terrible thing I’d done replayed in my mind, one by one.
My eyes blurred with tears. Ethan gave me no response.
I bowed my head, ashamed.
Ethan stepped forward and cupped my face in his large hands.
Wiping away my tears, he said, “Let me help you get revenge on every single one of the people who hurt you.”
I’d never felt so touched by someone’s words. But why was he helping me? What did he want?
“Why?” I asked, voice trembling. “What do you want in return?”
His hand trailed down my back. I flinched, remembering the injury I’d gotten when David threw me across the room during a fight with Lana.
Ethan’s jaw tightened as if he’d guessed the cause of my reaction—and felt the same pain I did.
“I don’t want anything,” he said softly. “I came back to make a few people suffer. I’ll just add your enemies to the list.”
“No,” I insisted. “You must want something. If you can really help me get revenge on David and Lana, I can’t just let you do it for free.”
Ethan went silent, his expression unreadable. I held my breath, waiting.
“You’re right,” he finally said. “I do want something.”
“What?” I asked hesitantly.
“Until you’ve had your revenge on David, Lana, and anyone else you want, you will live here.”
Live here?
“What... What are you saying?” I stammered, stepping back. I misjudged my step and almost fell onto the bed, but Ethan caught me, his strong arms holding me effortlessly.
His face was so close to mine, our noses nearly touched.
“I want you to be with me,” he whispered.