Chapter 7 - Ethan's Desperate Bargain
By one in the afternoon, the mansion was completely silent. The catering company had packed their vans and departed, their supervisor politely declining the tip Ethan tried to offer with an overdrawn credit card. Margaret had retreated to her guest cottage at the edge of the property, barricading herself inside with a bottle of gin and her cell phone, calling every lawyer in the state only to be told that the Ironclad trust was ironclad in both name and execution.
I changed out of my dress uniform into a comfortable pair of dark jeans, a simple navy crewneck sweater, and flat leather boots. My ribbons and insignia were carefully packed into their velvet-lined presentation cases, resting safely inside the safe.
When I walked back downstairs into the kitchen, Ethan was sitting alone at the marble island, surrounded by empty coffee cups and scattered legal documents. He looked twenty years older. The sharp, arrogant jawline that had charmed me in my late twenties seemed sunken and hollow.
“Claire,” he said, his voice completely broken. He didn't look up right away. “I fired my mother’s estate manager. I canceled the private club memberships. I called the firm and took a voluntary leave of absence.”
I pulled a mug from the cabinet and poured myself a cup of black coffee from the carafe. “That’s between you and your partners, Ethan.”
He stood up, walking toward me with hesitant, cautious steps, keeping his distance as if approaching an unexploded shell. “We can fix this. We have twelve years together. We have Noah. You can’t tell me that everything we built was a lie.”
“We didn't build this, Ethan. I funded it, and you lived in it,” I said, taking a sip of the bitter coffee. “And as for Noah... you were willing to sacrifice his happiness today so your mother wouldn't have to explain why her daughter-in-law doesn't wear diamonds to breakfast.”
“I was weak!” he shouted, slamming his fist onto the marble, though the blow lacked any real conviction. “My mother has controlled every aspect of my life since my father died! She told me that if you showed up looking like... looking like a common civil servant, the Sterling family would pull out of our harbor consortium! I thought I was protecting our future!”
May you like
“I am a Colonel in the United States Army, Ethan,” I said, setting my mug down with a firm click. “I command three thousand personnel and manage a three-billion-dollar operational infrastructure. The fact that you saw that as something to be ashamed of because it didn't come with a society column mention proves you never saw me at all.”
Ethan fell back against the counter, shaking his head slowly. “What do you want, Claire? Tell me what you want. Do you want me on my knees? Do you want me to beg for forgiveness in front of Margaret? I’ll do it. Just don’t take my son. Don’t take my life away.”
