Chapter 289
Hearing Ethan’s words, Charlotte’s expression eased almost imperceptibly. A faint warmth crept into her eyes, subtle but real.
Ethan noticed it immediately.
And it irritated him more than it should have.
She really didn’t even try to hide what she was thinking.
But none of this mattered in the way it appeared on the surface. His actions against Khloe had never been personal—they were for Clarice. That one conversation with Khloe had loosened something inside him, something he had spent years keeping tightly sealed.
Since then, doubt had become a quiet companion.
He tried to suppress it, tried to push it down every time it surfaced. But restraint only made it worse. The questions kept circling back, sharper each time.
And yet—he still didn’t dare confirm anything.
Because if what Khloe implied was true… if his parents’ deaths were connected to Clarice…
Then everything he had built—his position, his loyalty, his entire identity—would collapse into something hollow.
His hand tightened slightly, and a faint crack sounded from his knuckles.
Charlotte caught the change in him immediately.
She didn’t hesitate. “Actually, Ethan… you don’t have to be enemies with Khloe. She can get along with you just fine.”
Ethan let out a short, humorless laugh. “You don’t understand.” He pushed the juice glass aside without drinking it. “I’m nothing like Khloe. My life isn’t even mine to decide.”
Charlotte paused at that.
Then, trying to lighten the mood, she reached for the menu. “Then… how about some wine?”
Before Ethan could respond, she had already placed the order.
He glanced at her. “Don’t overorder. The wine here isn’t cheap. I don’t want you crying over the bill later.”
Charlotte didn’t even look up. “You’re here.”
That single line made him pause.
Ethan raised a brow, faint amusement returning. “So what? You invited me. I’m not paying.”
“If you can’t afford it, I can handle it,” Charlotte said lightly.
“I can afford it.” She smiled faintly. “And since you like drinking, I can’t exactly host you without wine.”
Her tone was calm, almost casual—but her attention was sharper than it looked.
She had noticed everything.
The way his eyes lingered on the alcohol section earlier. The way he hesitated before ordering. It wasn’t about cost.
It was about control.
Ethan knew his limits with alcohol—and she had seen what happened when he lost them.
A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll act like I did yesterday?”
“I am,” Charlotte said honestly, still not looking up. “That’s why you should drink less.”
The answer was so straightforward that Ethan paused.
Then, instead of discouraging it, Charlotte ordered two bottles of the restaurant’s specialty wine.
Ethan didn’t refuse.
He rarely did when things were placed in front of him.
Charlotte didn’t drink. He noticed it but didn’t press. For a brief moment, he considered making her drink with him, but she declined gently, and he let it go.
As the wine settled in, Ethan’s mood shifted.
He became quieter. More withdrawn.
Charlotte noticed immediately.
And instead of pushing into that silence, she filled it with something lighter.
Then, almost out of nowhere, she asked, “Ethan… when are you planning to get married?”
He glanced at her lazily. “No partner. No marriage.”
“I… accidentally saw something yesterday.” Charlotte’s voice softened. “A photo in your wallet. Of a girl. Isn’t she your partner?”
The question landed differently than intended.
Her fingers tightened slightly under the table.
That girl in the photo—she wasn’t a stranger.
She was someone Charlotte had once known as an older sister figure. Someone who had saved her when her life had nearly been destroyed, someone who had taught her that even in the worst circumstances, survival still meant possibility.
Charlotte lowered her gaze.
Ethan, however, didn’t answer immediately.