The glass walls of Steph's office overlooked the sweeping lawns of the Richardson estate. It was a minimalist room — no clutter, no distractions. Just power distilled into cool tones and cold steel. She sat behind her polished desk, going over a proposal from one of the family's international partners, when Mitchell walked in.
She never knocked.
She didn't need to.
Steph looked up, reading her expression before she spoke.
"What is it?" she asked, setting her pen down.
Mitchell — efficient as always in her crisp charcoal suit — cleared her throat. "Just confirmed from our people downtown… Laura is back in town. With her parents. Quiet entrance, no press, no scandal — yet."
Steph raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in her chair. Her voice was calm, almost amused. "After the humiliation they suffered, I assumed they'd crawl under a rock somewhere in Europe."
Mitchell gave a small, dry smile. "Seems the rock got too cold."
Steph reached out her hand, palm open.
Mitchell immediately placed her phone in it.
She dialed Ethan.
Ethan picked up after two rings, his voice steady and unsurprised. "Hi, Mum."
"Darling" she said, but with a teasing undertone. "Why am I hearing from Mitchell that Laura and her family are back in this city and not from you?"
There was a pause. Then Ethan spoke, calm and collected. "Because it's handled. She came to see me."
Steph's brows arched. "She what?"
"She called. We met. At the house — privately. No one saw. She wanted us to go back to the way things were."
Steph's voice turned ice cold. "And what did you say to that?"
"I told her I've moved on."
That silenced her — just for a moment. Then she exhaled, a hint of pride warming her voice. "Good."
"Mum," Ethan added, "it's nothing you need to worry about. She's not a threat. Not anymore."
Steph paused, processing his tone. It was calm, but not passive. Not angry. Just… firm.
She smiled faintly to herself.
"Alright," she said. "I trust you."
Steph ended the call and passed the phone back to Mitchell.
"Well?" she asked.
"He met with her. Handled it cleanly. Told her he's done. Said I don't need to worry."
Mitchell gave a small nod, but the sharp glint in her eyes didn't fade. "Should I have a discreet guard placed on him? Just in case?"
Steph thought for a long moment, then shook her head. "No. If he says it's nothing to worry about, I'll give him that space. I brought him up to be a man of his words."
Mitchell look convinced, and she didn't argue. She stepped closer and lowered her voice. "You've trained him well ma'am."
Steph's smile was faint. "I didn't train him. He chose to grow up and walk in the right path."
There was a long pause.
Then, almost as an afterthought, Steph added, "But keep eyes on Laura's parents. I want to know who they're meeting, what they're planning, and if they even breathe near the press."
Mitchell smirked. "Understood."
As she left, Steph swiveled her chair to face the window again. The sun was rising over the city.
She smiled, happy with the man her son turned out to be. And she was content to let him lead.
**********
The apartment was quiet, too quiet. The kind of quiet that screamed of everything they used to have. Anna sat on a faded velvet couch, her once-pristine heels tossed carelessly by the door. The gold that used to glitter from her wrists had been sold, piece by piece. Now all that glittered was resentment.
Liam stood by the window, arms folded, staring out blankly at the cracked skyline of the city they used to own — at least in influence.
Anna sipped her tea—cheap, bitter—and glanced at her son. "The child's gone," she said. Cold. Final. "So what now?"
Liam didn't answer. Didn't even blink. His jaw clenched.
Anna continued, voice laced with irritation and desperation. "The baby that ruined you, that ruined us, is gone. And even Laura didn't dim it fit, to tell you, the father of the baby about it— finally. Now what, Liam? What's the next move?"
Still, nothing. He kept staring through the window like he could see the life he used to live on the other side.
Their relationship had fractured since the scandal. The moment Steph disowned them and the family estate was closed off like a fortress, things had begun to rot. Anna blamed everyone but herself — Laura, Ethan, Steph — and most of all, Liam, for thinking Laura could pull the plan off. But got it ruined.
But Liam? He was silent.
Inside, he wasn't just broken. He was boiling.
***********
The afternoon sun filtered through the office windows, casting gold over Ethan's desk. Iva stood beside him, her fingers gliding over the paper file she was showing him. Her soft perfume lingered — something clean and subtle, like jasmine and fresh air.
She leaned in closer to explain a detail, unaware of how near her shoulder brushed his arm.
Ethan felt it — the flutter.
It was the deep natural kind, not the light one he used to feel when Laura wore something expensive or said the right thing about him. This was... deeper. Startling. New.
His heart thumped — hard. He shifted slightly in his chair, trying to shake the feeling. But Iva noticed.
She glanced at him. "Are you okay?"
He met her eyes. They were close — closer than they'd ever been. Her face was just inches from his. Her lips parted, unsure whether to say more. Her beautiful eyes staring right into his. His gaze dropped, only for a second, to her mouth — soft, natural, not painted in arrogance like Laura's always had been.
And in that second, something broke.
Ethan leaned forward and kissed her.
It was gentle, uncertain — as if he wasn't sure if he should or even could, but his heart decided before his mind could catch up.
For Iva, it was a dream finally, finally unfolding. Her breath caught in her throat, and her eyes closed for the briefest second — the taste of hope, at last.
But just as quickly, Ethan pulled back.
"I'm… I'm sorry," he said, breathless, confused, eyes wide. "I shouldn't have done that. I— I didn't mean to—" He ran his hand through his hair, clearly shaken. "I didn't know what came over me. I'm sorry. I don't want to ruin what we have."
And with that, he turned and rushed out of the office, leaving Iva standing there, stunned. Her fingers touched her lips, still tingling.
Happy. Confused. Hopeful. Terrified.
All at once.
From a sleek, illegally operated control panel in her hotel suite, Laura zoomed in on her drone footage.
She had followed Ethan's car to his office building earlier that day, consumed by desperation. She couldn't let him go. Not to a woman like Iva.
And now, she watched the moment play out on her screen — zoomed in, high-resolution: Ethan and Iva kissing.
The sight made her blood boil.
"No… no, no," she muttered. She stood, knocked the laptop off the bed, and grabbed her car keys.
When Ethan returned home that evening, the sun was setting behind the trees, and his thoughts were still spinning from earlier. He didn't expect to find someone sitting on the patio furniture outside— Laura.
He paused on the steps, stiffening. "What are you doing here?"
Laura stood, eyes blazing. "So it's because of a nobody like Iva, that you won't give me a second chance?"
Ethan's expression didn't shift. "You are overstepping your boundaries Laura. You need to Leave."
Laura took a step forward. "You used to love me. I was your wife."
"You were also the woman who attempted poisoning me at Liam's command," he said coldly.
"Iva is nothing compared to me," Laura snapped. "She's just a nobody, a common assistant with a borrowed dress and a fake smile—"
That was the trigger.
Ethan's voice cut like a blade. "Don't talk about her like that."
Laura blinked.
"She's better than you've ever been. Since high school, since before all of this — Iva has been real. Loyal. Kind. Something you've never managed even on your best day."
Laura's mouth hung open.
Ethan took a step forward now. "The next time you come to this house uninvited, I will have you arrested."
She looked like she wanted to scream, but something in his tone told her not to.
"Leave, Laura," he said again, quieter this time — not from pity, but finality.
Laura turned and stormed out, slamming the gate behind her.
Ethan stood in silence.
He didn't go inside immediately. He just stood there under the sky, thinking about the taste of jasmine, and the heartbeat that wouldn't slow down.
*******
The door to Liam's apartment swung open.
He wasn't expecting visitors, much less her. "Laura?" he said, brows furrowing.
She looked different—disheveled, eyes wild, lips trembling not with grief, but with fury.
"You're not afraid I'd hurt you?" Liam asked with a cold sneer. "After all… you did kill my child."
Laura brushed past him like a storm. "He died as soon as he was born," she snapped, stepping into the living room. "That's not the same thing, and you know it."
Anna sat on the armchair, arms folded tightly, her expression sharp with disdain. Laura didn't bother to greet her. She threw herself onto the couch like she owned it.
Then she dropped the grenade.
"The urge to kill Ethan… still have it?"
Liam blinked, confused. Anna's eyes widened, immediately suspicious. "What is this?" Anna asked. "Are you wired? Is this a setup?"
"You should leave," she added, voice dark. "You killed my grandchild."
"I didn't kill anyone!" Laura screamed, standing now. "He died. It just… happened! You think I wanted to lose my own baby?"
A beat of silence, her chest rising and falling with rage.
Then, colder this time, calmer, she said again:
"Do you still want to kill Ethan?"
Liam's fists clenched. "I thought you loved him."
"I do," Laura said softly, eyes narrowing. "But he doesn't want me anymore. He wants… her."
She spat the last word like poison.
"If I can't have him, no one can."
Something in her tone changed everything.
Liam didn't reply right away. But the look that passed between him and his mother was all the answer Laura needed.
Anna sat straighter. A slow, calculated smile forming.
"Then," Anna said coolly, "we'll need the perfect plan."
********
Ethan sat on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, screen flashing: "Iva (5 missed calls)."
He stared at it like it might explode. A dull ache pressed against his chest.
Why did I kiss her?
The question hadn't left his mind since he bolted from the office.
Not because he regretted it—he didn't—but because he didn't know what it meant. For her. For them.
He couldn't talk to Steph. Not yet.
So instead, he dialed Rita.
"Ethan?" came the warm, familiar voice.
"Yeah… I just… I needed to talk to someone," he exhaled.
"I kissed Iva today."
A moment of silence.
Then Rita laughed—a warm, knowing laugh. "Finally," she said. "You've found her."
Ethan blinked. "What?"
"The one. The right one. The one who's been beside you this whole time, but you've been too blind to see."
He didn't know how to respond. A smile tugged at his lips without permission.
"Iva," Rita said, her voice softening, "I think she has been in love with you for years, Ethan. She never said it, but we all saw it—me, and the staff."
"You….sure?" he asked, voice low.
"Yes. And the way you're feeling now? That's what love feels like when it's real."
Then she added, gently, "Don't let fear make you loose what's perfectly made for you."
"Thank you, Rita," he murmured, heart lighter, mind spinning.
As he hung up, one of the housemaids—Berry, a quiet, thoughtful girl—knocked and came in with the wine he had requested.
She hesitated before setting it down. "Sir… forgive me. I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I overheard a bit of your call."
He raised a brow but said, "It's alright. What is it?"
Berry clasped her hands. "It's just… we all see it, sir. The way she looks at you. The way she waits behind after everyone's gone, just to make sure your coffee is warm before she leaves. How she always adjusts your collar when the cameras are flashing. That's not just duty."
She smiled shyly. "That's care. That's love, sir. She's real."
Ethan didn't say anything. He just stared at the floor, overwhelmed. That heart flutter came again.
Berry curtsied lightly. "Good night, sir."
And with that, she left.
Ethan remained seated, heart racing as memories of Iva came flooding back — her laughter in the hallway, the way she knew his moods without him saying a word, the comforting silences they shared.
Iva couldn't take the silence anymore.
Her car screeched into Ethan's driveway. She didn't care how late it was. The air felt heavy with what they weren't saying.
One of the staff told her where he was — in the study, upstairs. She thanked them and made her way in.
Ethan turned at the sound of the door.
His heart skipped.
"Iva?" he asked, surprised. "What are you doing here? Is….is it about work?"
She didn't answer.
She kept walking — slow, measured steps.
Ethan, confused and nervous, began to step back instinctively. "I—I'm sorry," he stammered. "About what happened earlier. I shouldn't have— I don't know what came over me. I didn't mean to make things awkward. I didn't want to lose what we—"
He stopped.
She was standing right in front of him.
Their faces, inches apart again.
"Iva," he whispered.
But before he could say another word—
She kissed him.
No hesitation. No permission asked.
Just years of emotion pouring out all at once.
Ethan froze for a second — then surrendered.
His hands found her waist, and the world quieted.
When the kiss broke, Ethan looked at her, stunned.
"You kissed me," he breathed.
"You kissed me first," she smiled, cheeks flushed.
And for the first time in years, Ethan laughed — not out of politeness or social duty, but from something real.
The silence between them stretched, not awkward, but thick with unsaid things.
Ethan's breath slowed as he stared at her. He was still trying to understand what just happened. That kiss—so sudden, so soft—left an unfamiliar warmth flooding his chest.
"I don't know what this means yet," he finally said, voice low.
Iva tilted her head, studying him. Then her lips curved into the smallest, most teasing smile.
"What took you so long?" she asked softly, barely above a whisper.
That disarmed him more than the kiss.
He ran a hand through his hair, laughing nervously. "Honestly? I think… because I thought of you as family. As a friend." He paused, eyes now locked onto hers. "Someone safe. Constant. Like the sky."
Iva nodded, but there was no disappointment in her eyes.
"I still am," she replied. "Family. Friend. And everything in between."
That silenced him again.
He had no clever comeback—just awe.
He stepped closer, heart beating faster now not from panic, but from clarity.
"What about you?" he asked. "Since when?"
Iva didn't hesitate. "High school."
Ethan blinked. "High school?" he echoed, as if he'd misheard her.
She gave a small, knowing smile. "Yes. Since you stood up for me at that school board meeting when the rich kids said my family status made me less deserving. You didn't even know me then, it was my first day at school. But you saw me. And after that… we became friends and I never stopped seeing you."
Ethan stared at her, dumbfounded, like his entire past had just been rewritten in front of him.
He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head at himself. "I've been an idiot."
Iva chuckled. "A little."
Still smiling, Ethan suddenly leaned forward, his arms wrapping around her waist. In one swift move, he lifted her gently off the ground and placed her on the polished surface of the mahogany table behind them.
She gasped in surprise, but laughter bubbled out of her.
He stepped between her knees and rested his hands lightly on her hips.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice more serious now. "For not seeing you. For taking this long. And especially for… telling you all about me and Laura when we were still married. That must've hurt."
Iva looked at him—really looked. Her fingers came up to brush lightly against the collar of his shirt.
"It did," she admitted. "But I never hated hearing it. Every time you opened up to me, it made me feel… trusted. Important. Like I mattered. Even when it hurt."
Ethan exhaled slowly, pulling her closer. "You mattered more than I knew."
"Then stop apologizing," she whispered. "Just be here. Now."
He smiled. Then, without another word, he leaned in and kissed her again.
This time, it wasn't hesitant or rushed. It was deep, lingering—a kiss of knowing, not guessing.
Of peace.
Of recognition.
Her fingers found his hair. His thumb brushed her cheek.
Neither wanted to pull away. Time became airless, soft, safe.
When they finally did part, she rested her forehead against his.
And for the first time in a long time, Ethan felt like he had finally found his peace—he felt like someone finally stepping into something whole.
Iva, eyes still closed, smiled to herself.
This, she thought, was worth the wait.
Outside, the wind blew gently. But inside, everything had changed.