Ethan Carter stood before the tall mirror in his room, his hands adjusting the knot of his tie with careful precision. His usually calm, almost indifferent expression carried the faintest flicker of unease.
The door opened with a soft creak, and his father steped in
"You're looking good, Ethan," Mr. Carter said, his eyes glinting with both pride and something gentler , concern.
Ethan gave a small nod. "Thank you, Dad."
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then Mr. Carter spoke, his voice low and thoughtful. "You know, since your mother passed, I haven't seen this light in your eyes. It's subtle, but it's there. Tell me the truth, son… are you in love with her?"
Ethan froze. His hands, which had been adjusting his cufflinks, stilled. He turned slightly, meeting his father's knowing gaze through the reflection of the mirror.
"Father, please. Not now. We have somewhere to be, don't we?" he deflected, his tone clipped but not cold.
Mr. Carter chuckled softly, shaking his head. "People say you're coldhearted, Ethan. They whisper that nothing moves you, that you care only for business and power. But I know better. You've built walls around your heart, hiding the softness you inherited from your mother."
Those words struck Ethan harder than he wanted to admit. His lips pressed into a thin line as he finally turned to face his father fully.
Mr. Carter took a step closer, placing a hand firmly on his son's shoulder. "And one more thing," he said quietly.
Ethan's brows furrowed. "What is it, Father?"
"When you marry Maya," his father said, his voice steady with finality, "you will take over the company. I am getting old, Ethan. I need to rest, and I want to see my son stand fully in his place."
A wave of silence filled the room. Ethan looked into his father's eyes, seeing both the weight of years and the flicker of hope. His chest tightened, and he gave a firm nod.
"Dad," he said quietly but with conviction, "I won't disappoint you."
Mr. Carter's stern face softened into a rare smile. He patted Ethan's shoulder, pride clear in his eyes. "That's good."
---
Later that evening, the Carter car pulled into the Wilsons' grand driveway.
As the car door opened, Ethan stepped out, his tall frame cutting a striking figure in his tailored suit. But beneath his composed exterior, a storm brewed in his chest. His hand instinctively adjusted his tie again.
His father, observing him closely, couldn't resist a teasing smile. He tapped Ethan lightly on the arm. "Relax, son. You look as if you're about to face a firing squad."
"Dad…" Ethan muttered under his breath, groaning. "Please. I'm trying to compose myself here."
"Compose yourself all you want," Mr. Carter replied with a chuckle, "but don't be nervous. She's a girl, not a ghost."
Ethan exhaled sharply and gave a small nod. "I know." But deep down, he wasn't just nervous. He was restless. The thought of seeing Maya again was unsettling in ways he couldn't put into words.
"Welcome, Mr. Carter. Young Master Ethan," the Wilsons' butler said, bowing slightly as he ushered them into the sitting room.
Inside, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson rose to greet their guests, smiles carefully plastered on their faces though tension clung to the air like smoke.
"It's an honor to have you both here," Mr. Wilson said warmly, though his tone carried an edge of nervousness.
"The honor is mine," Mr. Carter replied smoothly. His eyes, however, were sharp, scanning the room with calculated ease.
"Where is Maya?" Mr. Carter asked directly, his voice slicing through the small talk.
Mrs. Wilson blinked, startled, then forced a smile. "We will call her now."
She turned to the butler. "Go and tell Maya to come downstairs."
---
Upstairs, earlier that day, Maya had been informed that guests would be visiting. She had been instructed to dress neatly, though no explanation was given. Confused but obedient, she had put on a simple cream dress, her hair left loose around her shoulders.
When the knock came at her door, she looked up nervously.
"Miss Maya," the butler said politely, "your presence is requested downstairs."
Her brows knit together. My presence? That had never happened before.
"Alright," she said softly, though her heart pounded in her chest.
As she descended the stairs, her steps light yet hesitant, the room fell silent. All eyes turned to her. She felt the weight of their stares pressing down on her fragile frame. Her fingers twisted in the fabric of her dress as she walked forward.
"Come here, Maya. Sit," Mr. Wilson instructed, gesturing toward the chair near him.
Maya obeyed quietly, though her mind raced. Her gaze shifted instinctively to Ethan, who was sitting straight-backed, his piercing eyes fixed on her with unnerving intensity. She quickly looked away, heat rising to her cheeks. Why is he staring at me like that?
Finally, Mr. Wilson cleared his throat, his voice heavy. "You must be wondering why we called you down tonight."
Maya's heart skipped. She nodded slightly, waiting.
"It's simple," Mr. Wilson continued. "Ethan has chosen you. He wants to marry you instead of Ann."
The words struck Maya like lightning.
For a moment, she sat frozen, her mind a whirlwind of confusion. Me? Marry Ethan? But wasn't Ann the one? How could this be?
She finally found her voice, trembling as it was. "What! No… I I don't want to marry him. I don't agree!"
Her words cracked through the air like glass shattering. Everyone stared in shock, but Maya couldn't take it anymore. She pushed back her chair, stood abruptly, and fled toward the stairs, her heart pounding in her ears.
Ann, who had been lingering in the shadows of the hall, clenched her fists until her nails dug into her palms. Jealousy and rage burned in her veins.
"Sorry about that," Mrs. Wilson said quickly, rising to her feet. "I'll go talk to her."