CHAPTER 6
Thursday night brought a violent thunderstorm that battered the Hudson Valley with heavy rain and cracking lightning. Inside the master suite, the air was thick with quiet preparation as the deadline for our strike approached.
Ethan sat at the small mahogany desk in the corner of the room, using a dark, encrypted laptop connected to a secure satellite network. The blue light from the screen illuminated his sharp profile as his fingers flew across the keyboard with practiced precision.
"The board members have all confirmed their attendance for tomorrow night's gala," Ethan reported softly, not taking his eyes off the screen. "Thirty-two of the most powerful financial figures in New York will be sitting in our dining room at eight o'clock."
I walked over, setting a cup of black tea beside his laptop. "And your trusted contacts?"
"My former head of security, Marcus Vance—no relation to the dirty doctor—has eighty armed men positioned in discreet vehicles outside the estate gates," Ethan explained, looking up at me with a dark, confident smile. "The moment I give the signal from the dining room, they will secure the perimeter and block every exit."
"And the evidence on the drive?" I asked, leaning against the edge of the desk.
"Fully decrypted and backed up on three separate cloud servers," Ethan said, reaching out to take my hand, gently rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. "It contains video footage of Jason meeting with the mechanic who cut my brake lines, along with the offshore wire transfers signed by Vivian."
I let out a long breath, feeling a mix of profound relief and terrifying anxiety twisting in my chest.
"They really tried to destroy you completely," I murmured, looking into his eyes.
"They tried," Ethan agreed softly. "But they didn't count on you."
He pulled gently on my hand, guiding me to sit on his knee. I wrapped my arm around his neck naturally, resting my cheek against his shoulder as the rain lashed violently against the windowpanes outside.
For a long time, we sat together in silence, finding comfort in the simple warmth of each other's presence amidst the gathering storm.
"When this is all over tomorrow," Ethan began quietly, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on my forearm, "what is the first thing you want to do?"
I smiled slightly, looking out at the dark, rain-soaked river.
"I want to go back to my small art restoration studio in Brooklyn," I admitted softly. "I want to smell oil paint and varnish instead of expensive perfume and hospital disinfectant. I want a life that belongs entirely to me."
Ethan turned his head, his hazel eyes searching my face with intense seriousness.
"What if that life included me?" he asked, his voice dropping into a low, vulnerable whisper that caught in my throat.
My heart skipped a beat, my breath hitching as I looked down into his deep, sincere eyes.
"Ethan... we got married because of a debt," I reminded him gently, though my heart was pleading for a different answer.
"We got married because of a trap," Ethan corrected, his hand moving to the back of my neck, pulling my face closer to his. "But I haven't thought about the debt or the trust once since the moment I woke up and saw you standing over my bed."
He leaned in, his lips brushing softly against mine in a gentle, lingering question that sent electricity shooting through my entire body.
I closed my eyes, melting into the kiss, wrapping both arms around his neck as all the fear and doubt dissolved into pure, undeniable passion. His arms tightened around my waist, holding me against him as if I were the only solid thing in an unraveling world.
When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged, his eyes glowing with an intense, fierce devotion.
"You are my wife, Emma," Ethan whispered against my lips. "Not because of a paper your father signed, but because you possess my heart. And tomorrow night, I am going to claim you before the entire world."
Before I could answer, a sudden, blinding flash of lightning illuminated the room, followed immediately by a deafening clap of thunder that shook the glass windows.
May you like
At that exact second, the bedroom door flew open without warning.
Dr. Vance stood in the doorway, holding a fresh tray of medical supplies, his mouth dropping wide open in complete, paralyzing shock as he saw Ethan sitting fully awake at the desk with his arms wrapped around me.
