Chapter 4 - The Rat in the Trap
Phase One was complete, but as Ethan reminded me over dinner that night, cutting the branches of a toxic tree wasn't enough. We had to dig up the roots.
My parents were now ruined socially. Word spread through D.C. high society within hours that the Reynolds family had been thrown out of the Metropolitan Club by Arthur Vance himself. My father's high-end architectural clients began canceling contracts by Wednesday morning, terrified of being linked to a family that was on the wrong side of Cole Capital Holdings.
However, Lauren was far from finished.
On Thursday night, while Ethan was in a closed-door board meeting, my phone rang with an unknown number. I answered it in the penthouse library.
"You think you’re so smart, don't you?" Lauren’s voice hissed through the speaker, distorted by rage and alcohol.
I swirled the wine in my glass, sitting back in the leather armchair. "Hello, sister. How’s the motel room? I heard Preston locked you out of the estate."
"You ruined my life!" she screamed. "You stole Ethan Cole from me! That marriage deal was supposed to elevate our family, not just you!"
"Our family discarded me on I-95 in the rain, Lauren," I reminded her, my tone icy cold. "You made your bed. Now sleep in it."
"I'm not done, Mia," she snarled. "You think Ethan loves you? You think he cares about you? You’re just a pawn to him! He’s using you to get Vance Global. Once the contract is signed on Friday night, he’s going to toss you back into the gutter where you belong!"
"Is that all?" I asked, my heart taking a slight, unwelcome dip at her words, though I refused to show it.
"No," Lauren giggled, a dark, manic sound. "I know about the London girl. I know Ethan’s ex-fiancée, Lady Victoria Sterling, landed in D.C. an hour ago. She’s coming to the Gala tomorrow night to reclaim Ethan. When she reveals your little civil union is a fake, the Vance deal crumbles, and I’m taking Julian Vance’s offer to destroy you both!"
Click.
She hung up.
I sat in the dim light of the library, the phone heavy in my hand.
Victoria Sterling was in D.C.
A sudden, uncomfortable ache bloomed in my chest. Over the past four days, what was supposed to be a strict, business-only fake relationship with Ethan had begun to shift. The way he looked at me when we were alone; the quiet, gentle way he made sure I ate dinner; the middle-of-the-night conversations in the kitchen over hot tea where he revealed his own tragic past—a father who demanded perfection and a mother who abandoned him for money.
We weren't just co-conspirators anymore. We were two broken people who had found shelter in each other's storms.
The library door opened. Ethan walked in, loosening his silk tie, looking tired but striking.
"You look distant," Ethan said softly, stepping toward me. "Is the pressure getting to you? Tomorrow is the final play."
"Victoria Sterling is in town," I said directly, watching his face closely.
Ethan froze for a microsecond. His dark eyes softened, but his jaw set firmly. "I know. She called me from the airport. She wants to reconcile."
I stood up, crossing my arms, maintaining my distance. "Is our contract still valid, Ethan? Or are you going to drop me the second your real upper-class socialite comes back?"
Ethan walked across the room until he was standing inches from me. He didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached out, his thumb gently tracing the line of my jaw, making my pulse spike wildly.
"Victoria Sterling left me when things got difficult," Ethan said, his voice dropping to a rough, honest whisper. "She left because she loved my name, not my soul. But you... Mia, you stood in a room full of monsters, took my hand, and turned into a queen. You showed more courage, brilliance, and loyalty in four days than Victoria showed in four years."
"Ethan..." I breathed, my breath catching in my throat.
"I didn't enter this contract just to get Vance Global, Mia," Ethan confessed, his dark eyes burning into mine with an intensity that made me tremble. "I picked you up on that highway because I’ve been watching you for six months. I saw your architectural designs. I saw your heart. I saw a woman who was too good for the family that dragged her down."
He took my left hand, raising the Cartier diamond ring to his lips, but this time, he kissed the palm of my hand—a gesture of profound surrender.
"There is no fake marriage anymore, Mia," he murmured against my skin. "Not for me. Unless you want it to be."
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My heart hammered against my ribs, wild and free. I closed the distance between us, standing on my tiptoes, and pulled his head down to mine.
When his lips met mine, it wasn't a business arrangement. It was fire, passion, and an unspoken vow. The fake marriage was dead. The real danger was just beginning.
