Ethan's nights were no longer haunted by dreams. They were haunted by truths. Truths wrapped in beauty, deception, and betrayal.
He stood shirtless before the wide penthouse window, the city below flickering like dying stars. His jaw clenched as he recalled Selina's warning, the encrypted files she had shown him—documents proving secret transactions, untraceable meetings, and a potential coup forming within Lu Corporations.
Behind him, Charlotte stirred in the bed, silk sheets slipping from her bare skin. Her voice was husky with sleep. "Come back to bed."
He didn't turn. "The board meeting's in six hours."
"So?" Her voice was teasing now, laced with warmth and something darker. "You're the CEO. Let them wait."
Ethan turned slowly, his gaze trailing over her curves. The woman who had once betrayed him… and yet, right now, she was his anchor in a sea of lies.
He crossed the room, climbed into the bed beside her, and ran a hand through her hair. "You shouldn't trust me," he whispered.
She looked up at him, eyes unreadable. "I don't," she said. "But I still choose you."
They kissed—hungry, desperate, aching. As their bodies intertwined again, Ethan drowned his doubts in the only truth that made sense: the fire between them.
Later that morning, the boardroom felt like a battlefield dressed in Armani.
Marcus Caldwell sat at the far end of the table, calm but distant. Beside him was Julian Wu, the CFO, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his tablet. Several others murmured low conversations. None of them were innocent. Not anymore.
Ethan entered, flanked by Charlotte and Selina—now publicly appointed as an "external strategic advisor."
All eyes turned to her. She was elegance wrapped in mystery. Black suit. Crimson heels. And eyes that told men exactly how they'd die if they crossed her.
"Gentlemen," Ethan began, "there have been discrepancies in our accounts. Unexplained withdrawals, falsified reports, and private meetings with rival corporations."
A ripple of tension spread across the table.
Julian cleared his throat. "Are you accusing someone, Mr. Lu?"
Ethan pressed a button on the console. The holographic display lit up—showing bank transfers, call logs, and emails traced back to Marcus Caldwell.
Gasps echoed. Marcus froze.
"I trusted you," Ethan said coldly.
Marcus stood slowly. "You don't understand. I was forced into this. They had my daughter. I did what I had to."
Selina raised an eyebrow. "Convenient."
"I can help you," Marcus added quickly. "If I go down, they'll just replace me. But if you let me in, I can feed them false info. Turn them against each other."
Charlotte studied Marcus, then looked to Ethan. "We need leverage. He's leverage."
Ethan nodded reluctantly. "Then you stay. But one wrong move, and I'll end you myself."
That night, back at the penthouse, the tension between Ethan and Charlotte was thick as smoke.
"You let him live," she said, pouring herself a glass of wine. "You didn't use to be so merciful."
Ethan sighed. "It's not mercy. It's strategy."
"Still," she said, crossing the room in a silk robe that clung to every curve. "You're colder now. Harder. I don't know if that should turn me on or scare me."
He closed the distance between them in two strides. "Why not both?"
Their kiss this time was slow and dangerous—like the calm before a storm.
But as they collapsed onto the couch, limbs tangled, a soft ping broke the moment.
Ethan's phone.
He checked it. A single message.
Unknown Number: "Your father isn't dead."
He sat upright, heart slamming against his ribs.
Charlotte frowned. "What is it?"
He handed her the phone. She read the message and went pale. "That's impossible. He died in that crash—"
"No body was ever found," Ethan muttered. "Only wreckage."
Selina, who had entered quietly with files in hand, saw the message and froze.
"I know that number," she said slowly. "That's from The Mirror."
Charlotte stiffened. "That underground intelligence ring? I thought they were a myth."
Selina shook her head. "They're very real. And very selective about who they contact."
Ethan looked between them. "If my father's alive… then this entire game just changed."
Elsewhere, in an undisclosed location, an older man watched Ethan's press conference on a cracked monitor. His fingers, scarred and weathered, clenched around a glass of bourbon.
"He's stronger than I expected," the man said.
A woman stepped beside him. "He's not the boy you left behind."
"No," the man said. "He's something else now. But he still doesn't know the truth."
He looked toward the shadows, where files bearing the Lu family crest sat atop a metal table.
"The empire he thinks he's protecting…" The man chuckled darkly. "It was never his to begin with."
Back in the city, Ethan stared out the penthouse window, storm brewing behind his eyes.
If his father was alive… it wasn't just revenge or love or betrayal anymore.
It was legacy.
It was blood.
And someone had rewritten history.
Who sent the message?Is Marcus truly loyal now?And what secrets did Ethan's father take to the grave — or bring back from it?
The answers lay ahead.
But so did war.