Chapter 22 #2
“I know, but I wanted to,” he said with a faint smile, and this time, the fine lines around his eyes appeared. “And I think I’ve discovered a few interesting things. For instance, the fact that my dad was almost certainly the one who deleted the CCTV footage.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Process of elimination. Hank confirmed your suspicion that the recordings were deleted while they were still at the hotel. Well, he didn’t use the word deleted, but he didn’t have to.
Apparently, only three people have access to the data: Henry, my dad, and Hank himself.
And we both know Henry would never do something like that. ”
The idea that Mr. Darlington was the one behind the disappeared footage surprised me more than it should have.
At the same time, it made total sense. He was just the kind of man who would cover up a murder without a shred of guilt.
Besides, Amy’s killer must have had a connection to the hotel to make the footage disappear so quickly—and of course most of the guests knew Mr. Darlington.
Thinking about it now, I felt naive for suspecting that the culprit was one of my colleagues rather than the most corrupt person in the hotel.
“And it couldn’t have been Hank?” I pressed.
“No. He was busy looking after the guests and trying to keep things under control after the accident. Besides, I trust him.”
“More than your dad?”
“I trust anyone more than I do that bastard.”
I was taken aback by the bluntness of his words.
I’d known that he and his dad weren’t close, but until now, I hadn’t been sure how Ethan really felt about Mr. Darlington and the accusations hanging over him.
After all, Ethan had accompanied his parents to every court appointment so far.
But his angry reply made his stance pretty clear.
“Anyway, I went to Henry with all that,” Ethan continued, without commenting further on the fact that his dad wasn’t just a rapist but was also covering up for a murderer.
“I got him to give me all the lists and documents related to the gala. Everything had been planned, right down to the smallest detail. Who needed a chauffeur, who would arrange their own transport, and who would drive to the gala themselves and need a parking space in the underground car park. Nothing was left to chance, and I know my dad well enough to know he wouldn’t risk breaking the law for some random celebrity by getting rid of evidence. ”
I blinked, stunned, trying to gather my thoughts. Only minutes ago, I’d been expecting Ethan to end things with me, but the conversation had taken a completely different turn. I now stood at a crossroads, confused and a little lost.
“Whoever caused the accident and got my dad to delete the footage must be someone who’s loyal to him, someone who’s still standing by him despite the rape allegations.
Richard Darlington would never risk his neck for anyone who doesn’t have his back.
So I went through all the lists to see which people met the relevant criteria connected to the accident.
I ended up with these five names,” Ethan said.
There was a hint of pride in his voice—and rightly so.
Had I known all those lists existed, I would have searched Rakesh’s computer more thoroughly when I’d sneaked in.
“Everyone on this list is a friend of my dad’s, and loyal to him.
They’ve even publicly spoken out in his defence.
And they weren’t just guests at the gala but also drove there themselves.
Frederick, Claude, Rupert, and Courtney all reserved parking spaces in the underground car park.
I couldn’t be sure about Isabella, because the lists contradict each other.
Perhaps she changed her travel plans at the last minute.
Which is why there’s a question mark next to her name. ”
“And why is there one after Claude Asterdam?”
“He ticks all the key boxes. He’s been a close friend of the family and my dad for years, but the relationship between the Asterdams and my parents has been strained in recent months.
Claude is fully convinced of my dad’s innocence and still stands by him, but his wife, Natalia, is another story.
Her show at the London Fashion Week was held at the hotel for years, but she cancelled the last one after the allegations came out.
And she also pulled out of the Pearl Gala.
Claude came alone. I’m not entirely sure my dad would stick out his neck for him while his better half is giving him the cold shoulder. ”
I nodded and stared down at the list in my hand.
In such a short time, Ethan had managed to get closer to solving this case than I had in weeks—and far closer than the police had in months.
Everything he said made sense, and he could assess these people’s relationships with his father far better than I ever could.
“I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“How about ‘Thank you, Ethan.’”
“Thank you, Ethan,” I echoed.
He grinned. “You’re welcome.”
The pounding in my chest grew louder as my mind slowly caught up and realised what a precious gift Ethan had just given me.
He hadn’t simply been thinking about Amy and the accident—he had conducted his own investigation, questioned the circumstances of her death, done his research, and spoken to people—all without me ever asking him to.
He hadn’t needed to do any of it, and yet here I was, holding the fruits of his labour in my hands.
“Thank you,” I repeated, although the words felt much too small for his grand gesture. And even if my mind was still a little lost, my heart wasn’t. It knew the way, and it led straight to Ethan. I leant in and kissed him.
He looked surprised, as if the kiss were unexpected, but he returned it.
I poured all my gratitude into it. I wasn’t just thankful for the list of suspects he’d given me.
I was also—and above all—thankful that he was there for me.
That he didn’t leave me alone. That he cared about Amy.
And that, right now, he was the only person who was able to ease the loneliness my sister had left behind.
Since she had been gone, everything in my life had felt cold.
But Ethan was warm. I didn’t understand it, but I didn’t have to.
All I had to do was surrender to this incredible feeling.
And the way Ethan was pulling me against him made it abundantly clear how wrong I had been to think that he might no longer want me.
His hands lay possessively on my back as his lips moved over mine, gentle and tender.
But gentle and tender quickly became stormy and urgent, and before I knew it, I was lying beneath him on the sofa.
He had taken the list of names from me and placed it on the table so it wouldn’t get crumpled between our bodies—because there was no room left between us.
My hands slid up his strong arms and over his broad shoulders, then locked behind his neck.
His fingers, meanwhile, tugged my shirt free from the waistband of my trousers so he could touch me.
In my head, I could still hear the faint echo of my own voice saying I didn’t want to be intimate with Ethan during working hours, but I was totally overwhelmed by what he had done for me.
I couldn’t fight this pull, this craving to be near him.
In that moment, he was everything to me.
Hope and reassurance. Lightness and peace.
Ethan explored my mouth with his tongue and my body with his hands.
He traced invisible lines over my skin until he reached the curves of my breasts.
Suddenly his kiss faltered, as if he’d realised he was breaking the rule I’d made.
He glanced at me apologetically—but there was nothing for him to be sorry for.
“Don’t stop,” I whispered with a smile.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. He reached for my top to pull it off, followed by my bra. I shivered as the air met my bare skin, my nipples hardening. Ethan closed his lips around one, as if to warm it with his breath, while his hand cupped the other.
I arched my back with a moan. At the same time, I tugged at his shirt, but I couldn’t get it off him from this angle.
He straightened up and pulled it over his head himself, before tossing it carelessly on the floor.
I’d seen him without a shirt plenty of times before, but this was only the second time I allowed myself to really look at him without hiding my curiosity or embarrassment.
He was a sight to behold—perfect. His skin was smooth, and his muscles were defined in a natural, understated way.
No steroids here—just hard work and a good diet.
I reached out to touch his chest, tracing the contours of his ribs and his taut stomach.
His muscles tightened, and he drew in a sharp breath when my fingers found the bulge in his trousers.
I wrapped my fingers around him through the rough fabric.
He pushed his hips to meet my hand with a gasp, eyes burning.
It was intoxicating to know I was doing this to him.
“Take your clothes off,” I said, my voice strained.
Ethan didn’t need to be told twice. He shed his clothes until he stood before me in all his naked glory.
I shivered in heated anticipation as he reached for me.
First, he took off my shoes, then my trousers and underwear.
Then he was on me again, kissing me as if my lips were the oxygen keeping him alive.
I felt his erection pressing hot and hard against my stomach, but instead of granting us both release, he took his time.
He kissed my cheeks and jaw, nibbled at my earlobes and neck.
He drew trails across my skin with his tongue until I was a puddle of longing and desire at his feet.
All the while, he caressed my thighs, letting his hands wander higher until they brushed against my most sensitive spot.