The morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting neat lines of light across Lena's desk as she sat reviewing the latest contract notes from Calloway Holdings. Her mind drifted more than it should, still heavy from the weight of recent days—Anthony's threats, the police report, and the emotional toll of putting everything behind her.
A knock on her door pulled her back to the present.
"Come in," she called, her voice clipped but steady.
Alice stepped in, her expression tentative. "Lena… there's someone here asking to see you. She didn't make an appointment, but she said it's urgent."
Lena blinked. "Who?"
"She said her name is Mrs. Grayson."
Lena froze.
Anthony's mother?
A knot formed in her stomach, but she quickly masked her expression with professional composure. "Please let her in."
Moments later, the door opened again and a well-dressed woman in her late fifties stepped inside, worry etched across her face.
"Mrs. Grayson," Lena greeted, standing to offer her a seat. "Please, have a seat."
"Thank you," the woman murmured, sitting down slowly. Her eyes, so like Anthony's, were rimmed with exhaustion. "Lena… I hope you don't mind me coming unannounced. I just… I needed to hear it from you."
Lena remained silent, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
"Anthony… he's been arrested," Mrs. Grayson continued, her voice trembling. "For… intrusion. And attempted—" She stopped, visibly forcing the word out. "Attempted rape."
Lena's eyes darkened. "Yes. That's correct."
"He told me you two had a fight," Mrs. Grayson said quickly, her voice laced with desperation. "And now such an incident happened, with the police involved… Lena, what really happened?"
Lena took a slow breath and looked her in the eye. "We broke up last month because I discovered that Anthony had been cheating on me with multiple women over the past three years."
Mrs. Grayson gasped softly.
"He came to my house uninvited, and sneaked in while I was in my bathroom. He tried to force himself on me. My boyfriend filed a police report because what he did was criminal. Not a misunderstanding. Not a lovers' quarrel."
The older woman's face turned pale. Her lips parted, but no words came at first. Finally, she whispered, "I… I didn't know. I'm so sorry, Lena. Truly. I raised him better than this."
Lena's gaze softened for a moment. "I know you did."
Mrs. Grayson looked down at her hands, twisting the gold wedding band on her finger. "Anthony… he's all I have. He's my only child. I know he's always been… impulsive. Entitled. I know that. Still, I beg you—can you find it in your heart to drop the charges?"
Lena didn't flinch, but her heart squeezed. "Mrs. Grayson… I understand that you love your son. And I know what I'm doing might feel cruel from a mother's perspective. But Anthony crossed a line. A line that cannot be blurred or ignored just because we shared a history or because it's difficult to face the consequences. He broke the law. And he must face what comes with that."
Tears welled in the woman's eyes. "He'll lose everything. His reputation. His career. And… prison, Lena?"
"That's not my decision to make," Lena said gently but firmly. "That's for the court."
Mrs. Grayson reached into her bag and pulled out a folded document and a sleek envelope. "Then… take this. It's a signed letter from Anthony, agreeing to return the penthouse to you. And this," she placed the envelope on the desk, "is a cheque. A generous one. Think of it as a gesture. Not a bribe, but a mother's plea."
Lena stared at the envelope without touching it. "I don't want this money. And the penthouse, I will settle it legally."
"Then what do you want?" Mrs. Grayson whispered.
"I want him to learn," Lena said quietly. "That actions have consequences. That women are not possessions. That he can't manipulate or violate people and walk away because of money or privilege."
Mrs. Grayson's lips trembled. "So you won't reconsider?"
Lena met her gaze with quiet resolve and pushed the envelope of cheque back to Mrs Grayson. "I'm sorry. I can't."
A heavy silence followed, broken only by the quiet hum of the air conditioner. Finally, Lena reached for the intercom. "Alice, please come in."
Alice entered almost instantly. "Yes, Lena?"
"Please see Mrs. Grayson out."
Mrs. Grayson stood slowly, pain etched across her features. "I still hope you can consider to drop the charges, Lena,"
Lena's voice was soft. "I'm really sorry Mrs Grayson. I can't. I really hope you understand"
Mrs. Grayson gave a faint, sad nod and turned to leave. The door clicked shut behind her.
Lena leaned back in her chair, her chest tight.A wave of emotion surged in her—regret, anger, sorrow. For a moment, she let herself sink into the silence.
There was a time when she might have given in. But she knew that Anthony needed to learn his mistakes.
*****
The sky had already dimmed into evening by the time Lena left the office. The day's stress still clung to her, heavy and suffocating. All she wanted was some quiet time alone.
With a quiet sigh, she pulled out her phone and sent a quick text.
Lena: I need some time alone tonight. Just a drink or two to clear my head.
Ethan:Understood. Can you drop me your location? I just want to make sure you're safe.
Her lips curved slightly. Even when giving her space, Ethan made her feel protected. She replied with the bar's name and added: Don't worry. It's the usual spot. I'll text you when I'm done.
The bar was dim and quiet, tucked away on a quieter street she frequented when her thoughts got too loud. Lena slipped into a seat at the bar counter and offered a faint smile to the bartender.
"The usual?" he asked.
She nodded.
The bartender placed her drink down and gave her a half-grin. "Not in a good mood?"
Lena just smiled in return, eyes lowering to the amber swirl in her glass. Halfway through her second drink, her phone buzzed again.
Ethan: Let me know when you're ready to head home. I'll come get you.
Something about that simple message—its steadiness—made her chest tighten. And maybe it was because she knew he'd come, no matter the hour, that she let herself have a third. Then a fourth.
She wasn't drunk, not exactly. Just loose around the edges.
When she finally stood up, the ground felt a little too soft beneath her feet. She texted Ethan:
Lena: Think I've had enough. Can you come now?
Outside, the breeze helped clear her mind a little as she waited near the entrance. She wrapped her arms around herself, her vision fuzzy but manageable.
That was when a male voice called out.
"Hey, pretty girl. You okay?"
She ignored him. But the stranger didn't stop. A hand slid around her waist, pulling her close. Lena flinched, trying to pull away.
"Back off," she muttered. "My boyfriend's coming."
The man laughed and tried to drag her toward the alley. Panic started to rise. Her limbs felt too heavy. Her voice, too small.
Then—
"Let her go."
Ethan's voice was low and deadly.
The man froze, eyes widening as Ethan stepped into the light, tall and furious. The stranger didn't need a second warning. He let go of Lena and disappeared without a word.
Lena stumbled, and Ethan caught her before she hit the ground.
"You drank too much," he said gently, his arms strong and grounding.
"I know," she whispered. "But I knew you were coming. I let go a bit."
Ethan brushed the hair from her face. "Let's get you home."
He helped her into the car and was just about to start the engine when Lena suddenly turned pale. Without warning, she leaned forward and threw up—mostly onto his pants.
Ethan winced. "Damn. Okay," he muttered, grabbing some tissues from the glove compartment to clean up what he could. One glance at her flushed cheeks and glassy eyes, and he made up his mind.
"You need rest. And clearly, I need a change of clothes," he said gently. "We're going to my place."
When they arrived at his apartment, he didn't hesitate. He scooped her into his arms effortlessly, carrying her up to the penthouse. Inside, he gently laid her on the bed.
"I'll be right back," he said, heading to the bathroom to clean himself.
When he returned, Lena was sitting up in bed, her hair slightly tousled and her eyes still a little glassy from the drinks earlier. She looked up just as he stepped back into the room, now dressed in a soft charcoal gray T-shirt and loose drawstring pants that hung low on his hips.
Her breath caught for half a second. There was something disarmingly intimate about seeing Ethan like this—in his space, in clothes that weren't tailored or styled, just... comfortable and real.
"You look..." she trailed off, then smiled faintly. "Different."
He raised an eyebrow as he walked toward her, towel still draped over his shoulder from the shower. "Different good or different bad?"
Lena let out a small laugh. "Good. Too good, actually."
"Do you want to shower? I can help if you need." Ethan asked.
She shook her head. "I can manage."
A while later, Lena emerged wearing his t-shirt, her hair damp around her face. Ethan smiled as he dried it gently with a towel.
"What happened today?" he asked quietly.
Lena's face softened, her shoulders sinking. "Anthony's mom came to my office."
Ethan said nothing, just waited.
"She wanted me to drop the charges. Even offered me a lump sum. I used to think of her as family. It hurt."
Ethan stroked her hair. "You did the right thing. He should be held accountable."
She nodded. "Thanks… for trusting me. For giving me space. When I used to drink alone, Anthony would get so mad. I started hiding it."
Ethan's expression darkened. "You don't need to hide anything with me."
"I know." She leaned into his chest. "That's what scares me… how different you are. How easy it is to trust you."
He kissed the top of her head. "That's never going to change."