Ethan Carter had always trusted his instincts, and right now, they told him that there was more to Maya Wilson than anyone dared to say. Ever since that night he first laid eyes on her, his thoughts had been haunted by her gentleness, by her quiet strength, by the strange sadness in her smile. Something about her called to him, something unspoken and carefully hidden.
Tonight, however, his instincts were confirmed.
He sat in his private study, the soft amber glow of a desk lamp illuminating the documents spread before him. Ronan, his loyal assistant, stood nearby, his expression uneasy as he placed yet another folder on the table.
"You were right, sir," Ronan said quietly. "The Wilsons… they've kept secrets. Especially about Maya."
Ethan's jaw tightened. He flipped open the file, scanning the neatly typed reports and attached medical records. His chest grew heavy as the truth unfolded in ink and signatures.
Maya… wasn't a Wilson by birth.
Adopted. Years ago. A child brought into the Wilson household under circumstances deliberately veiled. No public record, no official announcements, just quiet paperwork and careful concealment.
And then came the medical files. Dozens of hospital visits, dating back to when Maya was only a child. Each entry was clear: blood transfusions. Every time Ann fell gravely ill, Maya was the one summoned. Her blood was the only match.
Ethan's hand trembled slightly as he set the papers down. He leaned back, exhaling slowly. "All this time… she was saving Ann. Over and over. And no one even told her the truth."
Ronan shifted. "From what I gathered, Maya doesn't know she's adopted. She believes she's Ann's biological sister. Even Nanny Emily has no idea."
Ethan's eyes darkened, his voice low but filled with restrained fury. "So they kept her in the dark. Used her like a lifeline… but never gave her answers."
Silence hung in the study, broken only by the ticking of the antique clock on the wall.
Finally, Ethan rose, pacing the room. "She's been living in that house, unloved, underestimated, carrying a burden she doesn't even understand.
---
The next morning, Ethan sat across from his father, Mr. Carter, in the grand family dining room. Sunlight streamed through tall glass windows, but the heaviness of their discussion weighed down the atmosphere.
"You've discovered something, haven't you?" his father asked, his sharp eyes narrowing on him.
"Yes." Ethan pushed the file forward. "Maya isn't a Wilson by blood. She was adopted. But that's not the worst of it. Since childhood, she's been forced to donate blood to Ann, every time she's fallen ill. It's been happening for years, Father. And she doesn't even know why."
Mr. Carter opened the file, his brows furrowing deeply as he skimmed through the evidence. His lips pressed into a hard line, and for a long moment, he said nothing.
Finally, he closed the folder and looked at his son. "This… is unacceptable."
Ethan nodded sharply. "Exactly my thoughts."
Mr. Carter's voice grew grave. "That girl has been living in chains without even realizing it. If the Wilsons had their way, they would keep her bound there forever, bleeding herself dry to keep Ann alive. Ethan, this is no longer about business or alliances. This is about rescuing her from that hellhole."
Ethan's chest tightened with conviction. "Then we move quickly. The wedding must happen soon. Once she's in our home, they won't have the power to use her anymore."
Mr. Carter leaned back, steepling his fingers. His gaze softened slightly as he studied his son. "You've changed, Ethan. This isn't just about duty anymore, is it?"
Ethan hesitated, but the answer came from deep within him. "No, Father. It's not. This is about Maya." His voice grew quiet, yet resolute. "She's… different. I can't explain it, but I won't stand by and watch her suffer."
A small smile touched Mr. Carter's lips, pride, though laced with concern. "Then we'll make sure she's free. I'll speak with Wilson today. We'll finalize the marriage arrangements at once."
---
That afternoon, Mr. Carter sat in his office, the heavy mahogany desk before him, the phone pressed to his ear. His tone was clipped, decisive.
"Wilson," he said firmly. "It's Carter. My son and I will be coming over this evening. It's time we finalize the date for the marriage."
There was a long silence on the other end, broken only by the sound of Mr. Wilson's uneasy breathing. Finally, the older man answered, his voice strained.
"Of course, Mr. Carter. We'll be expecting you."
As the call ended, Mr. Wilson sat back in his chair, deep in thought. He will make sure Ann doesn't cause a scene today.
---
Meanwhile, in the Wilson estate, Maya sat quietly in the garden, oblivious to the storm gathering around her. She traced her fingers over the petals of a blooming rose, her thoughts far away.
She didn't know the truth of her past.
She didn't know the weight of the secrets surrounding her.