Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Enemy in the Shadows
The villa felt colder than usual that night, the glow of the chandeliers doing little to soften the tension between Amara and Ethan. Cassandra had left hours ago, but her words lingered like smoke: Your wife will drag you down with her.
Amara sat curled on the sofa, her arms hugging her knees, when Ethan entered the room with his phone pressed to his ear. His expression was grim, his voice clipped.
"Yes… I understand. Get me a name. No excuses." He ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket.
She lifted her head. "Did they find out who leaked it?"
Ethan nodded slowly. "A journalist. Name's Marcus Hale. He's been digging into me for years, waiting for blood in the water."
"Marcus Hale…" Amara repeated, the name tasting bitter on her tongue. "But why target me?"
His jaw tightened. "Because you're the crack in my armor. They can't touch me directly—so they come after you."
Amara's throat tightened. "So I'm your weakness."
The words stung more than she intended. Ethan crouched in front of her, his gaze fierce. "No. You're not my weakness. You're just the one thing they know I'll fight to protect."
The heat in his eyes made her chest ache, but before she could respond, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen and cursed under his breath.
"It's worse than we thought," he said, pacing the room. "Marcus doesn't just want a story. He's been tipped off. Someone fed him details about you—and maybe about us."
Amara's pulse quickened. "You mean… someone close to you?"
Ethan stopped pacing, his face dark. "Or close to you."
The implication cut deep. She shook her head quickly. "No. No one from my past would care enough to—" She froze, a memory surfacing like an unwelcome ghost.
Her ex-fiancé. The one who had left her shattered and humiliated. He had always hated losing control, hated that she walked away from him.
Ethan caught the look in her eyes. "What is it?"
She swallowed hard. "There's someone… someone who might still hold a grudge. My ex, Daniel. He knows things about me—about the lawsuit, about the diner, everything. If Marcus has those details, it could've only come from him."
Ethan's face hardened into steel. "Then he just made himself my enemy."
Amara flinched at the sharpness in his tone. "Ethan, please. If you go after him, it'll only add fuel to the fire. The press will spin it into something worse."
But Ethan shook his head, his eyes stormy. "I don't play defense, Amara. I protect what's mine."
The words sent a shiver down her spine—not just because of the possessiveness, but because for the first time, she wasn't sure if Ethan was protecting her as a woman… or as a piece of the contract that kept his world intact.
Still, when his hand brushed hers, firm and steady, she didn't pull away. Because deep down, she wanted to believe his fight was for her—not just the marriage they'd signed into existence.