The days following the handshake in Newark moved fast. Plans were submitted to the city, contractors were contacted, and The Forge's newest group of young builders—some who had never held a hammer before—were now learning the basics of construction and urban development. The energy was fresh, raw, and hopeful.
Ethan spent the next few weeks juggling meetings, site visits, and endless calls. But unlike his past life in Glenmark, this hustle didn't drain him—it gave him purpose. He wasn't chasing quarterly profits or pleasing board members anymore. He was creating something that could actually change people's lives.
And still, a small part of him kept watching Victoria.
She hadn't slipped. Not once. Every meeting, every budget review, every neighborhood forum—they were all handled with care. She showed up early, stayed late, and didn't make excuses. It was… unexpected.
One late afternoon, they stood side by side near a large dirt plot where the first foundation was being laid. The city skyline shimmered in the distance, and the air smelled of dust and progress.
"You ever think we'd end up back here?" she asked, brushing her hair from her face.
"Working together again, you mean?"
"No," she said, glancing at him. "Actually doing something good."
Ethan gave a small laugh. "I didn't even think I'd still be standing."
Victoria smiled faintly. "You're doing more than standing, Ethan."
He looked at her. "So are you."
A few moments passed. Then she said something that surprised him.
"My father would've liked this project."
Ethan turned. He remembered her father well. A cold, calculating man who'd built wealth off broken deals and political favors.
"Would he really?" he asked carefully.
She shrugged. "Maybe not the mission. But the vision? Yes. He always respected builders."
"You never talk about your family," Ethan said. "You barely did when we were together."
"That's because there wasn't much to talk about," she said softly. "I was raised to win. Feelings were weakness. Empathy was a liability."
He nodded. "I know the type."
"I hated how he ran things," she continued. "But I followed in his footsteps anyway. I told myself it was the only way to survive."
"What changed?"
"You did," she said. "You took the fall. You walked away with nothing… and still found a way to build again. You showed me there was a different way to live."
Ethan didn't reply right away. Her words felt honest. And that scared him a little.
"I'm not perfect, Victoria."
"Neither am I," she replied. "But maybe we're finally becoming something better."
He didn't answer. But for the first time in years, the tension between them began to soften.
Back at The Forge, Alicia had been watching everything unfold. She noticed the long calls, the quiet smiles, and the unspoken history between Ethan and Victoria.
She tried not to let it bother her. Ethan had been nothing but honest with her. He was committed to the work, committed to growth, and most importantly—he had committed to her.
Still, old scars had a way of stinging when touched.
One evening, while Ethan was preparing for a trip to speak at a Newark city council meeting, Alicia walked into his office.
"Got a minute?" she asked.
"Always," he said, setting his phone down.
She sat across from him and hesitated before speaking. "Can I ask you something personal?"
He leaned back. "Of course."
She took a breath. "Do you still have feelings for her?"
There was no anger in her voice. Just quiet honesty.
Ethan paused. He respected her too much to brush the question aside.
"I have history with her," he said. "But no—I don't have feelings for her. Not anymore."
Alicia nodded slowly. "Okay."
"You're the one I talk to when the day ends," he continued. "You're the one I think about when I imagine the future. Not Victoria. You."
A faint smile touched her lips. "Good. I just needed to hear it out loud."
He walked around the desk and took her hand.
"You've stood by me through everything, Alicia. I'm not going to throw that away. Not for the past. Not for anything."
She nodded, and for the moment, that was enough.
Meanwhile, in Newark, momentum picked up. The first building's foundation was poured. Local volunteers were joining the team. Community members brought food to the work crews, and neighborhood kids watched wide-eyed from the sidewalks, dreaming of new homes and cleaner streets.
But good progress always attracts new problems.
A week later, a news article hit the headlines: "Former Real Estate Tycoon Returns to Industry—Is This a Redemption Story or a Scam?"
The piece painted Ethan as a failed businessman trying to manipulate public sympathy to reclaim his fortune. It dug up old lawsuits, quoted anonymous "insiders," and raised suspicions about The Forge's funding sources.
The story went viral.
Donors began calling. City partners grew cautious. And at The Forge, whispers returned.
"Are we in trouble?" Jamal asked one morning, holding a printed copy of the article.
Ethan shook his head. "No. But we need to get ahead of it."
Alicia helped him draft a public response. In it, Ethan didn't defend his past. He acknowledged it.
"Yes, I failed," he wrote. "Yes, I made mistakes. But The Forge isn't about me—it's about second chances. Not just for me, but for everyone who walks through our doors."
He released a video too, standing in front of the Newark site, speaking plainly.
"We're not building towers. We're building trust. And I invite anyone who doubts us to come down and see it for themselves."
The response was mixed—but more positive than negative.
A few days later, a respected journalist visited the site. She toured the homes, spoke with workers and residents, and left with a different story in mind.
Her follow-up article was titled: "The Long Climb Back: How One Man Is Rebuilding More Than Just Real Estate."
It changed everything.
Calls returned. Donations picked up. New volunteers arrived.
And for the first time in months, Ethan felt the storm pass.
Victoria called him that night.
"You handled that better than I expected," she said.
"Didn't have much of a choice," he replied.
She paused, then added, "It wasn't me. The first article, I mean."
"I didn't think it was," Ethan said.
"I still have enemies in the city. People who want this project to fail."
"So do I," he said. "But we're not doing it for them."
Silence.
Then she asked, "You ever think about what could've been—between us?"
Ethan leaned back in his chair.
"I used to," he admitted. "A lot. But not anymore."
Her voice dropped slightly. "Why not?"
"Because I've found something more real," he said. "Someone who stayed when everything fell apart. Someone who believes in the man I'm becoming—not the one I was."
She didn't reply right away.
Then she said, "She's lucky."
"I'm the lucky one," Ethan replied.
Over the next few months, the Newark project took shape. The first building neared completion. The Forge launched a satellite program in the area, offering mentorship and skills training to locals.
Ethan and Alicia grew even closer, balancing love and leadership. Together, they were becoming something stronger than either had imagined.
One morning, as they stood outside one of the new townhomes, Alicia said, "You ever think about what comes after all this?"
"You mean after the project?"
"I mean… life. Us. Do we build something of our own?"
Ethan looked at her, sunlight in her eyes.
"Yes," he said simply. "Let's build everything."
They didn't need to define it all at once. But the foundation had already been poured.
Love. Purpose. Growth.
And this time, Ethan wasn't building on sand.
He was building on something real.
Something that could last.