I sat at my desk, staring blankly at the screen, the investor’s parting words looping endlessly in my mind. “You’re still cleaning up their mess, aren’t you?” No matter how much I tried to drown them out with reports and emails, the question lingered, clawing at me. What mess? Whose mess? Ethan’s past was a locked door, and now I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to peek inside.
The sharp, rhythmic click of heels on the polished floor snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up just as Clara Hastings entered the office, her presence unmistakable. Her perfectly tailored suit and smug smile radiated superiority, and it made my stomach twist in anticipation of whatever she was about to stir up.
Clara didn’t even pause at her desk. Instead, she made a beeline for Ethan’s office, her pace deliberate. Without knocking, she pushed the door open. My pulse quickened, and before I knew it, I was on my feet, curiosity pulling me forward like a magnet. Whatever was about to happen in there, I had a feeling it was going to be explosive.
Inside, Ethan stood behind his desk, his shoulders rigid as he braced his hands on the surface. His head snapped up when Clara barged in, his jaw tightening. “Clara,” he said, his tone sharp enough to cut. “What do you want?”
“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” Clara replied, her tone breezy as she strode inside. She cast a glance over her shoulder at me and smiled, all teeth and no warmth. “I have news you’ll both want to hear.”
“Clara,” Ethan growled, his voice low and dangerous. “This isn’t the time.”
“Oh, but I think it is,” she said, her cheerfulness dripping with venom. Ignoring the warning in his tone, she stepped forward and dropped a thick folder onto his desk with a loud thud. Papers spilled from the edges, but she didn’t bother fixing them. Instead, she folded her arms and leaned back slightly, her smirk widening.
“Since you’re so good at keeping secrets, Ethan, why don’t I save you the trouble?” Clara said, her gaze flicking to me like she was savoring my confusion.
My stomach sank, and I glanced between them, my pulse roaring in my ears. “Save him the trouble of what?” I asked, my voice steady even as my nerves coiled tighter.
Clara turned her full attention to me, her expression a masterpiece of mock pity. “Our families—Ethan’s and mine—have been working on a little arrangement,” she said, her tone sugary sweet.
A cold dread settled in my chest, but I forced my voice to remain calm. “What arrangement?”
Clara straightened, smoothing a hand down the front of her suit, as though preparing for a grand performance. “An engagement,” she said, letting the word linger in the air like a bomb she couldn’t wait to see detonate. “Ethan and I are to be married. If we don’t, the deal holding our families’ finances together falls apart. And let’s just say, Ethan’s little empire crumbles with it.”
The words hit me like a slap. The room suddenly felt too small, the walls pressing in around me. My chest tightened as I turned to Ethan, searching his face for some kind of denial, some assurance that this was just Clara’s twisted way of messing with me.
But his expression was unreadable. His jaw was tight, his gray eyes colder than I’d ever seen them.
“You’re engaged?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady.