Emily's POV
Emily's heels echoed sharply against the marble floor as she stormed down the corridor toward the executive wing. She clutched the file folder tightly to her chest, heart hammering, fury bubbling in her veins.
Why him? Why didn't he tell me? she fumed.
She reached the polished wooden door, raised her hand, and knocked before she could second-guess herself.
"Come in," came the deep, controlled voice she remembered too well.
Emily shoved the door open and stepped inside. Ethan sat behind the massive oak desk, dark hair perfectly styled, pen poised in his hand. His eyes flicked up to her, cool and unreadable, but for a split second, she saw the flicker — the tiny crack in his mask.
"Emily," he said smoothly. "Is something wrong with the project brief?"
She closed the door behind her, refusing to sit, standing stiffly like a soldier bracing for battle.
"Why are you the client?" she demanded, voice tight. "Why didn't you tell me from the start? You let me walk into that meeting blind."
Ethan set his pen down slowly, folding his hands in front of him. "It wasn't necessary for you to know."
Emily stared at him, disbelief and hurt warring on her face. "Not necessary? Ethan, this is my career. My life. You knew this would throw everything off balance. You knew how much history we have."
His eyes hardened slightly. "I suggest you focus on the work, Emily. Our past doesn't change the scope of this project."
Her chest clenched. There it is, she thought bitterly. The cold, polished Ethan Saintwood. She had hoped for even a hint of the boy she'd loved, but he was long gone.
"You think you can just sweep everything under the rug, don't you?" she whispered, voice trembling. "Pretend we were nothing?"
Ethan's POV
Ethan rose slowly, walking around the desk. Inside, his heart was a storm, pounding so hard it was a wonder she couldn't hear it. But his face remained a mask, his voice smooth as glass.
"I'm not pretending anything," he said quietly. "I'm doing what I have to do. For the company. For my family."
Emily's eyes shimmered, and something twisted deep in his chest. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to pull her into his arms and apologize for everything — but he couldn't. He had built walls over the years, stone by stone, and he didn't know how to tear them down anymore.
"You let them win," Emily whispered. "You let them destroy us."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "I don't owe you an explanation, Emily. Not anymore."
The words landed like a slap, and for a moment, the room fell into a brittle silence.
Emily's POV
Emily clenched her fists at her sides. Stay strong, she told herself. Don't let him see you break.
"Fine," she said sharply. "You don't owe me anything. But remember this, Ethan: I'm not the girl you left behind. I'm here to do a job, and I will do it well. Just stay out of my way."
She turned on her heel, head held high, and walked to the door. But just before she left, she heard his voice, softer, almost a whisper.
"I never wanted to hurt you."
Her breath caught, but she didn't turn back. She walked away, heart pounding, forcing herself not to cry.
Ethan's POV
Ethan stood alone in the office, staring at the closed door.
What the hell are you doing, Ethan? he thought, running a hand through his hair.
He had spent years convincing himself that Emily was better off without him. That she'd moved on. But seeing her now, strong and fierce, made something stir in him he had long tried to bury.
He took a shaky breath, steeling himself. This was business. Nothing more.
Then why, he wondered darkly, does it feel like the ground is crumbling beneath my feet?