Chapter 74

"Ethan, do you really think I can choose for myself?" I asked as I walked into his office and closed the door behind me. It sounded like I was more annoyed than I really was, but the words stuck in the air like the smell of his cologne.

Ethan barely looked up from his desk as he moved his pen over the contract in front of him. The soft light from his desk lamp cast shadows on his face, making it hard to read what he was saying. "I wouldn't have summoned you here if I didn't, Emily." His tone was cold and distant, like he was getting ready for a fight.

I sat down in the chair across from him and enjoyed the cool leather against my back. "You know that wasn't what I meant," I said.

After a while, Ethan finally looked at me. His blue eyes were cooler than usual. "What did you intend by that?" He reclined in his chair, the pen in his grasp continuing to tap on the desk-a small cadence of restlessness.

The mood in the room grew denser with each passing second. "I intended to say" I paused, looking for the right words, "...that you keep sending these... proposals to me,

"And I take it you're here to inquire about this one," he said flatly, pushing a folder in my way.

I flipped it open, my fingers gliding over the shiny pages. The client's name stood out right away-one I had met before in hushed gossip, a person whose notoriety arrived ahead of him in the most unfavorable light. I glanced over the information, feeling my stomach turn with each phrase. It was a high-risk deal, the figures enormous, yet the consequences were obvious: this agreement wouldn't merely touch the limits of ethics-it would crash right through them.

"You must be joking, Ethan," I remarked, looking up at him. "This guy is almost a criminal."

"And he's dishing out a premium," Ethan retorted, his voice cutting. "Do you believe Monroe Enterprises thrives solely on straightforward, effortless transactions?" "Greetings to the actual world, Emily."

I tightened my jaw, anger simmering just below the surface. "This isn't about enduring." It's linked to avarice. Why is this even needed? We're already-"

"Stop," he cut in, his voice now raised. He stood up, walking back and forth behind his desk. "You are unaware of what is essential." You don't understand what it takes to maintain this company's survival. "Or what I've given up to achieve it here."

"Do you really believe pulling me into these agreements is beneficial?" I lost my temper, rising to face his stare. "Do you believe this is what Henry would have desired?"

His answer was immediate-a brief glimpse of something primal, nearly savage, passing over his face before he regulated his expression once more. "Don't," he murmured softly, his tone resembling a warning. "Don't involve him in this."

thinking I will just approve them without any questions."

"Why not?" Isn't everything here for him? "For the sake of his legacy?"

Ethan laughed with bitterness, gliding a hand through his hair. "What will he be remembered for?" His inheritance is a heap of debt, scorched ties, and adversaries eager to watch our downfall. Do you think he established this company for our benefit? For you? He built it for his own use, Emily. "To satisfy his own pride."

The words struck with the force of a slap. "That isn't correct."

"It is," Ethan retorted, his voice getting louder. "You simply didn't notice it." You weren't present when he closed the door on me every single time I sought his attention. You didn't catch how he brushed me off, referred to me as useless, and claimed I'd never be adequate.

I stood still, his words echoing within me. I had never seen Ethan discuss Henry in this way-never witnessed him so open, so sincere.

"He left me with nothing except his chaos to deal with," Ethan went on, his voice trembling now, although he tried to conceal it. "And now I'm the person keeping everything cohesive." "Please excuse me if I am unable to consider every ethical dilemma."

I gulped nervously, uncertain about how to answer. His anger wasn't merely fury-it was anguish, accumulated over years, concealed beneath the smooth facade he consistently presented.

"Ethan" I started gently, but he stopped me.

"I don't require your sympathy," he answered curtly, facing away from me. He gazed through the window, the city lights sparkling in the pane. "What I require is for you to make a decision."

I glanced at the folder that stayed open on the desk, the figures merging together as my heart raced. Every instinct urged me to refuse, to resist, to protect the ethical advantage. However, I reflected on Margo, on Sophie, on the burden Ethan bore alone since he didn't believe anyone else could help him.

"Alright," I finally answered, my voice just above a murmur.

Ethan pivoted, his face showing no expression. "Okay?"

"I will approve it," I stated, my throat constricted. "However, don't confuse this with consent, Ethan. I'm performing this for you, not for the company. "Since I'm aware that you're not as cruel as you act."

For an instant, he stayed silent. At last, he finally nodded. "Excellent."

I hated how the word sounded, reminiscent of a triumph.

The quietness between us was overwhelming as I signed the paper, my hand shaking with the pen. As I returned the folder to him, he ignored me and didn't show any gratitude. He simply grabbed it and returned to his desk, his stance stiff.

"I'll catch you tomorrow," he stated, his voice returning to its normal indifferent tone.

I nodded, picked up my coat, and walked towards the door. However, as I reached for the latch, I looked back. "Ethan," I spoke.

He raised his gaze, his eyes fatigued.

"Perhaps you don't need to face this by yourself," I murmured.

He didn't reply, and I didn't expect a response. The door shut softly behind me with a gentle click, isolating me in the deserted hallway.

As I approached the elevator, a heaviness settled in my chest, the burden of my decisions weighing on me. I had crossed a limit, and I wasn't certain if I could ever return.

Yet beyond that, I couldn't remove the picture of Ethan's expression, the anguish he worked tirelessly to hide.

And I found myself contemplating: was I saving him, or sacrificing my own identity?