Ethan's POV
My phone won't stop buzzing.
I stare at the screen in Dad's study, watching message after message pile up. Business friends. Investors. People who believed in me. All of them asking the same question: What's happening with your company?
I don't have an answer.
"Ethan?" Vivian touches my arm. "Are you listening?"
I look up. Everyone's looking at me—Dad, Marcus, Adrian, and the Chen sisters. They're all talking about guns and notes and danger, but I can't focus. My mind keeps spinning back to the same problem.
My company is dying, and I don't know why.
Three months ago, everything was perfect. Money poured into my accounts like magic. Every business idea I had worked. Investors loved me. I was going to be bigger than Adrian—everyone said so.
Then it all stopped.
The money dried up. My projects failed. Investors pulled out. And I've been scrambling ever since, trying to figure out what went wrong. "The note mentions both Chen sisters," Dad says, his voice hard. "One of them is lying. One of them is dangerous."
Vivian squeezes my hand. She's scared—I can feel her shaking. Good. When she's scared, she sticks to me. When she clings to me, her family's ties stay useful.
That sounds terrible. I know it does.
But this is how the world works. You use what you have. You take what you need. You smile and charm and make people love you, and then you use that love to get ahead.
Adrian never understood that. He's always been cold and focused on "honest work" and "building something real." Meanwhile, I learned early that people give you things when they like you. Money. Opportunities. Forgiveness.
My whole life, I've been the star. The fun kid. The one everyone wants at their parties.
Adrian got the company. I got the love.
Except now, standing here watching Mira Chen's face while my sister-in-law-to-be accuses her of murder, I'm starting to wonder if I got the wrong deal.
"Eight million dollars," Vivian says again, pointing at her sister. "Hidden money while our family suffered. Explain that, Mira."
Mira's face is white, but she doesn't cry. She just stands there, looking at Vivian like she's seeing a stranger.
"I earned that money," Mira says quietly. "Through investments. I was going to help the family when the time was right."
"Liar!" Vivian shouts.
But something about how Mira says it makes me pause. She sounds... true. Like she's tired of hiding but also tired of explaining herself to people who won't believe her anyway.
I know that feeling.
"Investments?" I hear myself ask. "What kind of investments?"
Mira's eyes flick to me. There's something in her look—something calculating and cold that makes my stomach twist.
"Tech companies mostly," she says. "I've been doing it for years. Anonymous support for startups that showed promise."
My mouth goes dry.
No. No, that's impossible.
"When did you start?" I ask, and my voice sounds strange even to me.
"Three years ago," Mira answers.
Three years ago. Right when my "lucky streak" started. Right when unknown investors started funding my projects. Right when everything started working for me.
"Ethan?" Vivian looks at me, confused. "What's wrong?"
I can't answer. My brain is putting pieces together—things I don't want to fit.
All my success. All my money. All the backers who believed in me.
What if they weren't real?
What if it was all one person?
What if it was her?
"Did you invest in Blackwell Ventures?" I ask Mira straight. "My company?"
She doesn't answer right away. But her quiet is an answer itself.
"Oh my God," I say. "It was you. The whole time. Every backer, every dollar—it was all you."
Adrian straightens, suddenly alert. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying—" I stop, unable to finish. Unable to admit the horrible truth out loud.
I'm saying I'm a fake.
Everything I built. Everything I talked about. Everything I used to show I was just as good as Adrian—better than Adrian—it was all Mira Chen's money.
"Why?" I ask her. "Why would you do that?"
Mira's face is unreadable. "I saw promise. I made investments. That's all."
"That's not all!" My voice is too loud now. "You made me think I was great! You made me think I was building something real! Why would you—" I stop again as another thought hits me.
In my first meeting with Mira, months ago at that initial family dinner, she asked me strange questions about my business plans. Detailed questions. Questions that seemed too smart for someone who was just trying to land a rich husband.
I remember feeling angry that she wasn't flirting with me like other women did. I remember thinking she was boring compared to her beautiful sister Vivian.
But what if she wasn't being boring? What if she was interviewing me?
What if she already knew everything about my company because she owned it?
"When did you stop?" I demand. "When did you stop investing in me?"
"Three months ago," Mira says softly.
Three months. Exactly when everything fell apart.
"Why?" But I think I already know the answer.
Mira's eyes meet mine, and for the first time, I see something that looks like pity. "Because I realized you weren't building anything. You were just spending."
The words hit like a punch.
"You're wrong," I say instantly. "I'm a good businessman. I'm—"
"You're charming," Mira interrupts. "That's different."
Vivian makes an angry sound. "How dare you—"
"It's true," Mira continues, still looking at me. "Every venture you started failed within six months after I quit funding it. Because you never learned how to build something yourself. You just learned how to spend other people's money and take credit for their work."
"That's not—" I start, but I can't finish.
Because it is true.
I've always been the fun one, the charming one, the one people enjoyed. But Adrian was the smart one. The one who actually knew how to run a company.
I just knew how to look like I did.
"This is ridiculous," Vivian says, grabbing my arm. "Don't listen to her, Ethan. She's just jealous because I picked you. We're going to be fine. Your company is going to be fine."
But it's not going to be fine.
Without Mira's money, I have nothing. No backers. No jobs. No luck.
Just debt and a pretty wife who married me thinking I was rich.
I'm about to say something—I don't know what—when Marcus's radio crackles to life.
"Sir," a voice says quickly. "We've got movement on the east side. Someone's trying to enter the building. They're armed. "
Everyone freezes.
"Lock it down," Dad tells Marcus.
But before Marcus can react, every light in the mansion goes out.
Complete darkness.
Someone screams—Vivian, maybe. I hear footsteps running, people yelling, chaos erupting.
And in the darkness, I feel something cold press against the back of my neck.
Metal. Round. Unmistakable.
A gun.
"Don't move," a voice says in my ear. "Don't make a sound. Or your brother dies."
My blood turns to ice. "Which brother?"
The gun presses harder. "Does it matter?"
And then I hear it—Adrian's voice from somewhere in the darkness, sharp with fear.
"Mira? Mira, where are you?"
Silence.
Then another voice—cold, artificial, definitely using some kind of voice changer.
"One of you knows the truth about what happened five years from now. One of you will die because of it. Choose wisely." Five years from now? That doesn't make sense. How can something that hasn't happened yet— Wait.
"Mira?" Adrian calls again, and this time there's real fear in his voice.
The gun against my neck disappears. I hear footsteps moving away, quick and intentional.
"Lights!" Dad roars.
The backup generators kick in, bathing everything in red light.
And that's when I see it.
Mira is gone.