Chapter Twenty-Four
ASH
“You have a meeting with Carlos Rincón at five…” Vanessa scrolled through her tablet, eyes never leaving the screen.
“Call him back and move it to next week. It’s not a priority, and I have a dinner to get to.”
She nodded. “Consider it done. Do you want me to move the call with Costas at four?”
“No. That one will be quick. Please make sure Oscar is included.”
Another nod, fingers already flying. “Do you still want me to go shopping for Ethan?”
I smiled to myself. “No. I’ll take care of that later.” Two months deserved my own brand of spoiling. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Vanessa stood from the chair opposite me, her outfit immaculate as she flipped her slick black hair back. “Alright. That’s everything. I’ll forward your dad’s call as soon as it comes in.”
“Thank you, Nessa.”
She waved me off and strode out like she was walking a runway. I chuckled. Her easy closeness with Ethan made perfect sense.
My phone started buzzing.
I leaned back in my chair, clearing my throat as I answered. “Father dearest,” I said lightly, “how are you feeling today?”
“Tired. Which, according to my doctors, is now a sign of progress.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“Still walking every morning,” he added. “Slowly. They don’t let me forget it.” A pause. “And you?”
“Everything’s running smoothly. For now. You know how these things are.”
“That I do. And… Ethan? Is he well?” he asked, not hesitant, exactly—just careful.
“He is,” I said. “He’s been amazing, actually. Helping me with some of the research for the expansion project.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. He was rather ambitious in his time here.”
“And too stubborn to be left out.”
A faint huff of amusement came through the line. “That too. I’m glad you have him,” he said after a moment. “Recovery makes you acutely aware of how much you don’t like being alone.”
Something about that landed deeper than he probably meant it to.
“There’s something else I wanted to speak to you about,” he went on. “One of the seats on the Langley Enterprises board will be opening at the end of the quarter.”
I blinked.
“I’d like to nominate you for it.”
Surprise jolted through me, straightening my spine. “The board?”
“Yes, the board,” he said. “You know this business inside and out, and you’ve been effectively running your own for years. This isn’t symbolic. It’s overdue.”
“That’s not a small thing.”
“No,” he agreed. “It isn’t. And I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t believe you were exactly what the company needs.” He paused, then added, quieter, “What you weathered last year would have sunk most. Instead, you stabilized, rebuilt, and came back stronger. That isn’t luck. That’s leadership.”
The words settled deep in my chest. “And the… enthusiastic press coverage?” I asked before I could stop myself.
A soft exhale. “People talk. They always will. What matters is that you held the line, protected your people, and refused to compromise your integrity. That’s what endures.”
Pride twisted with something older. Something that still wanted his approval more than I cared to admit. “That’s—” I exhaled. “I’m not sure what to say. Thank you.”
“Not necessary,” he said. “Even if you won’t be the head of Langley Enterprises, I want your voice at the table. We need someone with a vision for the future we can trust.”
“And you trust me?”
“I do.”
Coming from him, that was everything.
“We’ll go over the details later,” he added. “But I wanted you to hear it from me first.”
“Thank you,” I said, meaning more than just the job.
“And Sebastian?”
“Yes?”
“Give Ethan my regards.”
I smiled. “I will.”
The call ended, but I didn’t move right away.
A seat on the board of Langley Enterprises.
Not a return—a foothold. A way in without giving anything up.
I’d spent my life being shaped for that world, craving power over it, then years carving out something that was finally mine.
This sat somewhere between the two—a place where I could have a voice without surrendering my autonomy.
For the first time since everything imploded, the future didn’t feel fragile anymore.
It felt earned. It felt steady. It felt… possible.
A soft knock pulled me out of it.
“Come in.”
The door cracked open, and Ethan peeked inside, hair a little rumpled, eyes bright. “Hey,” he said. “Am I interrupting something important?”
I smiled automatically. “Never.”
His grin in return was pure sunshine. Ethan crossed the room, bypassing the chairs, leaning in for a kiss before perching on my desk, legs spread at my sides, fully aware of what the image did to me.
“So,” he said, badly hiding the excitement in his voice, “I had a thought about tonight.”
I ran my palms over his firm thighs. “Tell me everything.”
“Let’s ditch the reservations. I’ll make dinner instead.”
I raised a brow. In the time we’d been living together, I’d barely seen him pour himself a glass of water. “You’re going to cook for me?”
He nodded, but that smile had an edge now. “Promise you’ll love it. I’ll make your favorite.”
I chuckled. “Whatever you want, pet.”
He bit his lip and pushed forward, leaving the desk to straddle me. My hands went to his waist automatically, holding him there.
“I wish we could fuck in this office.”
I dropped my forehead to his collarbone. “I still have two meetings. Please don’t get me hard right now.”
Ethan laughed softly, rocking closer, settling right over my groin. “Too late.”
“You’re a menace.”
He hummed. “Tell me what you’re thinking about right now so we can both be hot and bothered before tonight,” he murmured into my ear.
I palmed his back, feeling the muscles move under my hand. “I keep thinking about that costume. You don’t happen to still have it, do you?”
His fingers slid into my hair, a chuckle rumbling out of him as he tugged. “Bet you’d love that. What are you picturing?” He leaned back to look at me. “The mighty Sebastian Langley getting to fuck a Greek god?”
“It’s not about power. You just look mouthwateringly divine in it.” My hands slid to his ass, squeezing. “Also very accessible.”
“It really was. From more than one angle.” His eyes lit up. “You know what would be hot too?”
“What?”
“You in one of those little gladiator skirts. All oiled up.” His voice dipped as he leaned closer. “I could be, like, a senator’s son.”
I laughed. “Would you?”
“Yeah.” He rolled his hips, slow and teasing. “And I could go to the ludus because I want to see the gladiators training. Maybe even pay to fuck one.”
“You know that’s Romans, right? Not Greeks.”
“Shut up, let me keep going.” He was fully gone now, eyes bright with it.
“I’d act all noble and bored, pretending none of it impressed me.
But then you’d be there—sweaty and dangerous and not paying me any attention.
” His smile turned wicked. “Maybe you’d hate me at first. Think I was just another rich idiot watching from the stands.
And I’d keep coming back, every day, just to see if you’d look at me. ”
“This is getting elaborate,” I said, grinning. “How long have you been thinking about this?”
“As if I’m the only one who ever got hot watching Spartacus.” He writhed in my lap. “Fuck, I’m not going to be able to walk out of here.”
My hand slid between us, over the evident bulge at his crotch. “No. Doesn’t look like it.” I leaned in, kissing his neck, nudging his necklace aside so I could trace my tongue over his skin.
“Fuck, Ash,” he breathed. “We need to do that one day. Now I can’t stop picturing you bent over for me.”
I slid my hand behind Ethan’s neck and pulled him down into a deep kiss, fully prepared to ignore Elena’s near-constant warnings about this exact scenario—
A knock at the door broke us apart.
If I were a betting man, I’d put my fortune on who it was.
“Are you decent? Nessa told me Ethan was in here,” Henry called.
Ethan tipped his head back with a groan. “It’s like he has a radar.”
“He probably does,” I said. “Come in.”
Henry pushed the door open and leaned in first, gaze sweeping over us before one brow arched. “Wow. Zero shame. We’re not even pretending anymore?”
Ethan pressed his lips together, color rising in his cheeks. “Give us a minute.”
Henry grimaced. “Gross.” He stepped inside anyway, shutting the door behind him before dropping into a chair, completely unbothered. His eyes moved between us again, slower this time, a knowing grin spread across his face. “This,” he said, nodding toward us, “is exactly what I meant.”
“What?” Ethan asked.
But I remembered.
I rolled my eyes at my brother, because he wasn’t wrong. When he’d walked in on Luca and me, he’d said it looked like a business meeting. This—Ethan flushed and rumpled—this was what Henry had expected chemistry to look like.
“We had lunch plans,” Henry added. “Which you can’t cancel. I already have abandonment issues since you stole my roommate slash bestie.”
I shot Ethan an apologetic look. “We did have plans.”
He scrunched his face like he could will the situation away. “Nobody stole me. We still see each other basically every day.” It took him a minute—and one careful readjustment—before he finally settled into the chair beside Henry, still a little flustered, playing it off as best he could.
Henry glanced between the two of us, lips twitching. “So,” he said, “should I assume I walked in on something deeply traumatizing?”
“Very,” Ethan deadpanned. “Hopefully you’ll never recover and finally learn your lesson.” He shifted in his seat. “I should get going though—work.”
I cleared my throat. “Actually, I have something to tell you both.”
That got their attention.
“But I want Oli here too.”
Henry frowned. “Why does Oli need to be here?”
“Because this is the kind of thing he’ll be offended not to be included in.”
Ethan smiled, already catching on. “Is it good?”
I didn’t answer, just picked up my phone and tapped Oliver’s contact.
He answered on the third ring. “Ash, if this is about the spreadsheet, I already—” A child’s voice shrieked something unintelligible in the background. “Hold on—no, not the crayons—Amelia, I swear to god—”
Henry snorted. Ethan pressed his lips together, clearly trying not to laugh.
“Hi to you too,” I said.
Oliver huffed. “What’s going on? I’m currently being held hostage by my own children. Char’s busy.”
“I need you for two minutes. You’re on speaker.”
“Fine,” he muttered. “What’s this about?”
I leaned back in my chair, aware of how quiet the room had gone. Ethan and Henry were both watching me, waiting.
“I just got off the phone with Dad.”
Ethan’s expression softened instantly. Henry straightened in his chair, eyes warm and attentive. Oliver stayed quiet on the other end of the line, the small sounds of chaos still filtering through.
This was new.
Not the news. The sharing of it. A year ago, I would have processed it alone. Made the decision alone. Carried the weight of it alone. Now three of the most important people in my life were waiting with me.
I looked at them—my brothers, the man I loved—steady, present, here, and I felt it settle in.
Success didn’t feel like distance anymore.
It felt like belonging.
Like family.
Later that day, I walked into our shared apartment with a smile, dropping the package with yet another gift by the door. Normally, just coming home to him made my heart skip a beat.
Today it was different.
Today marked two months.
Two months since we’d stopped pretending this was temporary. Two months of building a life that, somehow, already felt lived in.
We’d spent most of that time here, learning each other’s rhythms in ways that felt both new and inevitable.
Christmas had been loud and warm in Long Island—Oliver and Charlotte, the kids, Vivian keeping my father from overexerting himself, and Ethan slipping into the center of it all like he’d always been part of us.
We’d kissed our way into the new year, the world outside the windows forgotten as midnight passed.
And somewhere between the holiday chaos and the quiet days that followed, we escaped to the coast for Ethan’s birthday—cold air, empty shoreline, his laughter carried away by the wind.
And then we came back to real life.
He dove into his classes and work with a focus that made me proud just to watch.
I learned how to leave the office at a reasonable hour, and my company grew without consuming me.
I started running again in the mornings, and reading in the afternoons.
Not reports, but actual books. Small pieces of a life I’d once enjoyed and forgotten how to be a part of.
Ethan and I weren’t hiding, but we weren’t loud, either.
We had dinners out. Morning runs in the park.
His hand brushing mine beneath tables. Quiet appearances at private events where people could draw their own conclusions.
I wasn’t sure relationships were meant to feel this intense, this fast. A younger version of myself would’ve been spiraling about it.
But this—whatever this was—felt natural. Easy. Right.
And something this right deserved daylight. The world was already whispering about us. This time, I wasn’t planning on staying silent. Not for long.
I loosened my tie as I stepped inside, taking in the quiet, pristine apartment, and frowned. “Darling?”
The kitchen was spotless. The dining area was exactly how we’d left it this morning. My mouth curved into a knowing smile. “Where are you hiding?”
“In here.”
I followed the sound of his voice toward the home office. “I thought you’d be slaving away in the kitchen.”
“I lied,” he said. “Can’t cook for shit.”
The door creaked as I pushed it open—
And my brain stalled.
Ethan was perched on my desk, waiting for me.
For a second, all I could do was stare. He was all bare skin and open invitation, palms braced on the surface as he leaned back, feet resting on the arms of my chair, offered up to me.
A gold jock hugged his hips, the metallic fabric catching the light with every small movement, framing him shamelessly.
Fine chains draped his torso—one banding his waist, another crossing his chest like a delicate harness, glinting against his skin with every breath.
A thin gold garter circled one thigh, the smallest detail, impossibly intentional.
My body answered instantly.
Because this was everything.
My fantasy.
My office.
My Ethan.
Heat flared low in my stomach, and I had to force myself to breathe.
He watched me watch him, eyes bright with mischief and something softer underneath, and lifted one shoulder in a small, not-so-innocent shrug.
“But dinner is still served.”