Chapter 9 - Ignoring Ethan’s Frantic Phone Calls
By the time my town car pulled up outside my modest, quiet apartment building, my cell phone was vibrating incessantly against the seat.
I glanced at the illuminated screen: thirty-four missed calls from Ethan, twelve texts from Claire, and frantic voicemails from her parents.
Instead of answering, I powered the phone off completely and tossed it into my leather handbag, needing absolute silence.
For twenty-five years, I had sacrificed my own comfort, my health, and my youth to ensure Ethan never felt the sting of poverty.
I had endured double shifts, aching joints, and endless loneliness so he could graduate from an Ivy League university with zero debt.
And tonight, sitting at an upscale restaurant, he had told me to remember my place while his snobbish wife treated me like trash.
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They truly believed that because I wore a plain cardigan and lived in a modest apartment, my entire life’s worth was zero.
They had no idea that the very empire funding their luxury lifestyle was built entirely on my blood, sweat, and unyielding vision.
