The two weeks of silence had been a lesson in my own insignificance. I had stayed in the shadows, scrubbing floors until my back ached, trying to be the "ghost" Harrison warned me to be. But seeing Ethan with Victoria Sterling in the foyer had changed the air in the house. She was bright, expensive, and looked at me like I was part of the furniture.
I was in the basement laundry room, the humid air smelling of detergent and hot iron, when my phone vibrated in my pocket. My heart skipped. I hadn't seen that name on my screen in fourteen days.
[2:15 PM] Ethan: Pantry. Now. We need to talk.
I didn't want to go. I wanted to delete the message and keep folding towels, but in this house, a text from Ethan wasn't a request, it was a summons.
I found him in the small walk-in pantry off the kitchen. He was leaning against a shelf of imported oils, looking as handsome and unbothered as ever. The sight of him made my stomach do a nervous, angry flip.
"Harrison says you've been quiet," he said, pushing off the shelf as soon as the door clicked shut behind me. "Look, about the engagement news. I wanted to tell you myself, but things moved fast. It's a family arrangement, Sasha. It's what's expected."
"Expected?" I finally looked at him, the anger bubbling up. "You told me you wanted to tear this family down. Was that just part of the 'family arrangement' too?"
He looked frustrated, stepping closer until the scent of his cologne filled my lungs. "It's complicated. Victoria is just... part of the facade. Nothing has changed between us."
"Everything has changed," I whispered, my voice trembling. "You're getting married."
He didn't argue. He didn't offer a logical explanation. Instead, he reached out, his hand sliding behind my neck, pulling me forward. I should have pushed him away, I should have remembered the blonde heiress upstairs, but the two weeks of loneliness had made me weak. When he kissed me, it wasn't the sweet, slow kiss from the pool. It was desperate and messy, a frantic slip up that broke through every wall I had built.
We pulled apart when we heard the sharp clicking of heels on the kitchen tile outside.
"Ethan? Are you in there?"
It was Victoria. Her voice was high and sharp, like a whistle for a dog. Ethan straightened his tie instantly, his face snapping into a mask of bored indifference. I ducked back into the shadows behind a rack of dry goods, my heart trying to kick its way out of my chest.
He stepped out of the pantry, meeting her in the kitchen.
"There you are," Victoria said. I could hear the fake sweetness in her tone. "Your grandmother is waiting for us in the drawing room. She wants to show me the Sterling family lace."
"Coming, Victoria," Ethan said, his voice perfectly smooth.
I stayed in the dark of the pantry for a long time after they left, listening to the distance grow between us. I could hear Mrs. Grant's voice echoing from the drawing room, warm and welcoming in a way she never was with me. She adored Victoria. To Mrs. Grant, Victoria was a prize; I was just the girl who polished the floors she walked on.
I touched my lips, still stinging from his kiss, and realized that even though Victoria had the ring and the family's approval, I was the one Ethan came to when he couldn't breathe. It was a dangerous realization, one that I knew would eventually cost me everything.