Chapter 8 - ETHAN’S SECRET
“Tell me.”
Ethan looked toward Marcus.
“Leave us.”
Marcus hesitated.
Then walked out.
I crossed my arms.
“What does Andrew know?”
Ethan loosened his tie.
For the first time since I had met him, he looked nervous.
“I investigated him.”
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
My stomach dropped.
“When I got engaged?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked at me.
“Because I didn’t trust him.”
“You never said anything.”
“I had no proof.”
“You investigated my fiancé behind my back.”
“Yes.”
“Because you wanted me?”
His silence hurt more than an answer.
“Ethan.”
“Yes.”
I turned away.
I needed distance.
“You had no right.”
“I know.”
“You should’ve told me.”
“I know.”
“You let me walk back into that apartment every night.”
His face changed.
“I didn’t know he was hurting you.”
“But you knew something was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“And you did nothing.”
“I respected your choice.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Funny. Everyone respected my choices right up until those choices almost got me killed.”
He had no response.
Good.
I didn’t want one.
I grabbed my bag.
“Where are you going?”
“Somewhere that isn’t here.”
“Ava, Andrew is out.”
“So?”
“So he threatened you.”
“And you lied to me.”
“I withheld an investigation.”
“That’s a billionaire’s way of saying lied.”
He flinched.
I walked toward the elevator.
“Ava.”
I stopped but didn’t turn.
“I never wanted control over you.”
“Then stop making decisions for me.”
The elevator doors opened.
Marcus stood outside.
His face was grim.
“What?”
“We have a problem.”
He handed Ethan a tablet.
A website had published private emails.
Mine.
Messages between Ethan and me.
Normal messages.
Late-night work.
Coffee orders.
Jokes.
But edited together, they looked intimate.
The headline read:
BILLIONAIRE BOSS OBSESSED WITH ENGAGED ASSISTANT BEFORE ABUSE CLAIMS.
I felt dizzy.
“Andrew leaked these.”
Ethan shook his head.
“He couldn’t access my corporate server.”
“Who could?”
Marcus answered.
“Someone inside Carter Industries.”
That landed badly.
Someone close to Ethan was helping Andrew.
Then another file appeared online.
A voice recording.
My voice.
Crying.
Saying:
“I hate myself.”
The recording was real.
But it was from the night my mother died.
Years before Andrew and I dated.
He had pulled it from private therapy records.
“He’s trying to make me look unstable,” I whispered.
Ethan picked up his phone.
“We’re done reacting.”
“What are you going to do?”
He looked at me.
“Find the person inside my company helping him.”
Marcus interrupted.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“We already did.”
He turned the tablet around.
May you like
The login belonged to Ethan’s younger brother.
Nathan Carter.
