The moment Ethan heard that voice firm, cold, commanding he let go of my hand like it burned him. That was new. Normally, he did what he wanted and stormed through boundaries like a wrecking ball. But not tonight. Tonight, he obeyed.
I turned, and there he was. Mr. Daniell Carter. Ethan's boss. The man who owned this place. The retreat, the cabins, the company his name echoed with power, and his presence made everyone else feel a little smaller. He stood under the glow of the porch lights, hands in his coat pockets, face unreadable.
But me? I made a decision that very second.
I was done being the calm one. The understanding one. The girl who waited for apologies, who forgave too fast. My tears were still warm on my cheeks, but my heart had shifted into something colder. Something smarter. I wasn't going to ruin Ethan's reputation, not with words, anyway. No. I would ruin him with silence, with grace, with power he didn't know I had.
I started crying again this time on cue. And I walked straight toward Mr. Carter.
"I'm really scared of him," I whispered as I reached him, my voice trembling. I wasn't lying. Ethan's behavior had shaken me. But I knew how this would look. Vulnerable. Timid. The perfect picture of a woman wronged.
Mr. Carter looked at me for a moment, then handed me a handkerchief from inside his coat pocket. Even the damn handkerchief smelled expensive. Clean. Masculine. I clutched it like a lifeline, wiping my cheeks as I sniffed.
"Would you like me to walk you to your cabin?" he asked, his voice deep but gentle.
I nodded, then added quickly, "Can we walk a bit first? I need some fresh air."
He agreed, and just like that, we walked toward the lake, his long stride slowing to match mine. I noticed a man trailing a few steps behind us, dressed in black. A bodyguard. Was he really that important? Of course, he was. A known billionaire.
The moonlight spilled over the still water, and we walked in silence for a few minutes. No pressure. No questions. Just quiet company. It felt...safe. Maybe it was the bodyguard, or maybe it was the fact that Daniell Carter didn't ask me for my side of the story. He gave me space. No prying. No judgment.
That, somehow, made me want to talk more than if he'd begged for answers.
I didn't say much, though. I wasn't ready to spill the whole story. I wasn't ready for anyone to hate Ethan not yet. I didn't want pity. I didn't want the whispered conversations or the knowing looks.
No, my revenge would be slow and private. Precise.
He noticed I was barefoot, the heels dangling in my hand. Without a word, he took them from me and carried them himself. Then he shrugged off his jacket and placed it around my shoulders.
"Thank you," I murmured, genuinely touched. He didn't say, "You're welcome." He just nodded and kept walking beside me, eyes forward. Gentleman. But not flirtatious. He wasn't trying to get in my pants. That made me even more intrigued. He wasn't playing a game, he was the board.
"So, what do you do at the company?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
"I own it," he replied, his tone even.
I blinked. Of course. The cabins, the retreat, the company this was his kingdom.
" I currently do not have a job and have submitted many applications without success," I said, seizing the opportunity. "Are there any open positions?
" I don't really know if we have any openings right now," he added.
I laughed softly.
He cracked a faint smile, then reached into his coat, well, the coat I was now wearing, and pulled out a sleek black card. His business card.
"You can come to the office on Monday and check with HR"
"If anything suits your skillset, apply," he said. "You never know."
I took it with a small smile. This wasn't a man who handed out hope easily. The gesture meant something.
Eventually, we made our way back toward the cabins. The moon was higher now, casting silver streaks across the gravel path. The bodyguard peeled off, disappearing like a shadow into the night.
We reached my door, and then I saw him.
Ethan.
He was slumped against the wall outside my cabin, a nearly empty bottle of whisky resting beside him. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his hair a mess. His right hand was bleeding. I think he had punched the wall a few times. The same man who had knocked on my door begging hours earlier now looked like a hollow version of himself.
Drunk. Pathetic. Broken.
The sight stirred something within me, but it wasn't pity. How could I pity him? The man who would go for months without speaking to me? The one who slammed the door in my face, took me by force, and talked to other women while I sat beside him? That man? I have no pity left for him. Not anymore.
Mr. Carter's hand was still lightly on my back as I stopped.
Ethan looked up and saw us. His eyes locked on the jacket wrapped around my shoulders. The heels in Mr. Carter's hand. The closeness. The silence.
He staggered to his feet, swaying a little.
"Tessa," he slurred. "Can we talk now? Please, I need to talk to you."
"I don't think now's the time, Ethan," I said calmly. Stepping closer to Mr Carter.
He took a step forward.
"Tessa, please"
He reached for me again.
And then, that same commanding voice sliced through the night like a blade.
"Ethan, go to your cabin."
We both froze.
Mr. Carter didn't raise his voice. He didn't move. But something about the way he said it, the authority made Ethan stop in his tracks.
I felt the air shift.
Ethan looked at him, eyes wide, like he'd just remembered who he was. Who was he messing with?
I tightened the coat around me, tucked the card safely in my pocket, and took a deep breath.
Because everything had just changed.