Ethan

The rain against the heavy iron gates of the correctional facility was the only sound for miles. After exactly 3,652 days, the heavy steel doors groaned open.You walked out carrying nothing but a small plastic bag containing the clothes you wore a decade ago—a faded, oversized t-shirt and worn-out sneakers. The vibrant, laughing girl who used to wear designer dresses and chase after a man’s attention was completely gone. In her place stood someone silent, hollowed out, with eyes that had seen too much darkness to ever shine again.Waiting by a sleek black luxury sedan was Ethan Vance.Ten years ago, he was the untouchable, cold CEO who looked at you with nothing but disgust. Back then, you were the "rich brat" who staged dramatic, embarrassing scenarios just to get him to look at you. You had paid a guy to pretend-propose to you in front of him. You had faked being drunk at a gala just to stumble into his arms for a kiss. Every single time, he had shoved you away with icy words: "Stop acting like a spoiled child. You disgust me."But today, Ethan wasn’t looking at you with disgust. He looked shattered. Broken.He took a step toward you, holding an umbrella to shield you from the downpour. "You're out," he said, his voice surprisingly raw.You didn't look at his handsome face. You didn't even look into his eyes. You simply stared at the wet pavement, your posture stiff and entirely closed off. You didn't say a word. The prison had taught you that speaking only brought trouble."Your father's lawyer contacted my family," Ethan continued, his voice trembling slightly as he held the umbrella over you, letting the rain soak his own expensive suit. "Since... since your parents passed away after the trial, and your family's assets were liquidated to pay the settlements... my parents insisted. I insisted. You are coming to live with us. I am taking full responsibility for you."Responsibility. The word felt like a cruel joke.Your mind flashed back to that horrific night ten years ago. Your 21st birthday at your family’s grand mansion. You had actually gotten drunk from a spiked drink your envious sister had handed you. You remembered stumbling into your bedroom, only to find a notorious, wealthy predator waiting for you—a trap set by your sister.When you had managed to break away for a brief second, you ran into the hallway and saw Ethan. You had grabbed his lapels, crying, begging him through tears: "Ethan, please, help me... he’s in my room, he’s trying to touch me..."But Ethan had just sneered, ripping your hands off his suit. "Another one of your pathetic games? Grow up." And he walked away.To protect your dignity from the monster in your room, you had fought like an animal. In the frantic struggle, your hand had found a heavy glass statue on the nightstand. You swung it. The man fell dead.When the screams echoed, everyone—including Ethan—rushed into the room. You remembered the look of sheer, paralyzing horror on Ethan's face when he realized you hadn't been lying. But it was too late. The dead man's powerful family demanded blood. Your father suffered a fatal panic attack right there in the courthouse during the indictment. Your sister vanished with the remaining family wealth, leaving you to rot for a decade."Let's go home," Ethan whispered softly, reaching out to gently touch your elbow to guide you to the car.The moment his fingers brushed your arm, you flinched violently, stepping back into the freezing rain. Your eyes, wide and completely devoid of affection, finally snapped to his. There was no love there anymore. No longing. Just a quiet, terrifying emptiness.Ethan froze, his hand hanging uselessly in the air as the realization of what ten years in a maximum-security cell had done to you crashed over him.