Chapter 21 Eva
EVA
I’m sweating bullets, my pulse syncing with the sharp chop of wind lashing against the cabin as we land on the Etheridge Mansion helipad.
Dust and gravel whirl through the air when I step out.
I clutch the hem of my dress—barely peeking out of Mason’s jacket, which swallows me whole, as I make my way up the long path.
Jonathan. Grace’s father. My godfather. The tall man in a gray suit, which matches his eyes, follows me, looking shockingly calm. As if he’s about to perform another surgery and didn’t just airlift me out of Fort.
“Okay,” I call over the dying whine of the blades, “on a scale of one to ten, how much trouble am I in?”
“You didn’t break your curfew, Eva, you breached your security protocol. We had police officers circling Fort’s perimeter in the middle of the night. Now, Elton and Daniel have to make multiple apology calls. So, on the scale of one to ten? I’m thinking… fifty.”
I groan, burying my face in my hands. I’m so tired of this. The security protocols, everyone treating me like a child. All of it. I get it now. Why Dad didn’t want us near all this. Two months and I’m already suffocating in their cage.
Jonathan eyes me from head to toe. “Actually, add another five for that outfit.”
I shoot him a look. “Are you going to help me or not?”
“That depends.” His tone turns surgical. “Is Daniel right?”
“About… what?” I ask, wary.
“All this.” He gestures toward the helicopter. “Breaking your detail. Mixing with Fort families. Is this a cry for Daniel’s attention, or just a spectacular lapse in judgment?”
The words hit sharper than the wind. My lips part.
That’s what Dan thinks? That arrogant dick. Like the world revolves around him.
“On second thought,” I say coolly. “I won’t be needing any help.”
Jonathan studies me, then sighs with the faintest shake of his head.
“Come on. Your grandfather’s waiting.”
I let out a long exhale, the weight of it dragging through me, as I follow him up the steps to the tall glasshouse that looms above us.
My cheeks heat as I see Grandpa waiting for me by the pool.
Suddenly, my clothes feel like they’re ablaze—my dress torn, spoiled by Mason’s calligraphy, wearing his jacket.
I’m literally on a walk of shame all the way to London.
And I’m still a virgin.
Daniel summoned me here, like a subject to the crown, and never bothered to bless me with his royal presence. I didn’t even get a chance to pack a weekend bag or retrieve my phone. At least Jack made sure Penny’s was returned to her.
Meanwhile, I have been stuck here all day with nothing to do and no one to speak to apart from strangers; staff who greet me with the same plastered smiles and same rehearsed greetings, and guards who won’t let me drive my own car.
Grandpa lingered long enough to witness my humiliating parade, then he gave me a long lecture about Reginald Grant and his perpetual sour grapes, before he made an excuse and left.
After the accident, Grandpa struggled to cope in Etheridge Mansion, where Mum was raised. Soon after, he handed it over to Dan, with the rest of his estate, and moved to his flat in Chelsea. Poor Kate still runs back and forth, running both households. Like Grandpa, Dan also has trust issues.
So here I am, alone, trying to find something that belongs to me in this primly organized palace.
Not. One. Thing.
Dan was supposed to move everything from Manchester after he eagerly sold our house in record time. Don’t get me started on that. So, where the hell is everything?
I know every corner of this nine-bedroom house.
Including the large cupboard under the home theater.
As kids, Dan and I were always ready to hide when things heated up at family dinners.
Even though we only spent six weeks here every year, Dan and I always had our own rooms for as long as I can remember.
Nanna made sure they matched our bedrooms at home, so we felt comfortable.
Though it was she who made this place special.
After going through every inch of the house, I head to Daniel’s room.
I storm around, yanking drawers open, some clean off their hinges, then move to the wardrobes. I climb up to the higher shelves and pull the matte boxes off, letting the contents spill onto the plush ivory carpet, then rummage through it all.
“Can I help you?” A silky voice disrupts my self-designed treasure hunt.
I look up from the floor in Daniel’s walk-in wardrobe, where I sit cross-legged with most of his possessions scattered around me.
A young redhead wearing a blue pencil skirt, a matching blazer, and a deadly expression scowls at me.
“Who let you in here?” she demands, leaning over and snatching the khaki jacket from my hands. “Whoever you are. Another charity case or a desperate family friend, you’re not allowed in Daniel’s bedroom. Wait outside.” She points to the door.
My lips twitch, fighting to curl, but I resist. I have had a long, boring day, and this is far too delicious to pass.
“Don’t you mean, Mr. Etheridge?” I say, in a sugar-sweet voice. “He told me to wait here. He won’t be long if you want to wait with me.”
Her brows knit, lips folding into a deep frown as I rise with a smile.
She appraises me slowly, eyes dragging from my bare feet up to the freshly pressed skirt and top Kate laid out for me when I got out of the shower.
Her lips pull down, imagining billions and diamonds slipping through her fingers.
“I see.” She purses her lips. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but there is no way Daniel Etheridge would go for a basic whore like you.”
“Bridget?” A voice I’ve known my entire life steps in, clad in a crisp dark blue suit, every strand of his blond hair set to perfection. “Did you just call my sister a whore?”
Bridget turns white as a sheet. Her eyes snap from Daniel to me, pupils dilating when recognition kicks in. Probably remembering that haunting funeral photo.
“I–I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” Bridget stutters, “She didn’t say…”
Dan holds up a palm, his royal blue eyes slowly gliding over to me, calm and composed.
His lips curl up on one side. He looks so much like Dad when he smiles.
He’s taller than Dad, though, tall enough to be a basketball player, which is what he wanted to be before he traded up for the CEO life.
It seems he’s bulked up a little since I last saw him, too.
“Can you give us a minute?” he says to Bridget, who looks like she might collapse under the weight of her own regret.
“Yes. Yes, absolutely,” she stammers, nodding frantically before scurrying out of the room.
“Can I have that back?” I drawl.
She looks at her hands, then passes the jacket back to me. “I’m so sorry, Miss Etheridge.”
I open my mouth, but Dan beats me to it.
“That’s fine, Bridget,” he replies, eyes on me. “Miss Etheridge knew what she was doing. Can you send me the Preston Holdings files? I want that tender closed today.”
Bridget nods and bolts, faster than a thief at the sight of blue lights, leaving me alone with my brother—estranged brother.
For a moment, we stand in silence. Dan, with hands in pockets, nonchalant. Me, arms crossed, legs bouncing, fury ready to erupt.
“You’ve got yourself a lovely gold-digger assistant there,” I finally quip. “I thought you were exclusively into blonds. Another thing about you that’s changed, I guess.”
“Bean, please don’t start,” he huffs. And it hurts. It actually hurts to hear him call me by the nickname he gave me. Apparently, I looked like a kidney bean on Mum’s ultrasound.
“This is not fucking easy for me, okay.”
“Oh, really, which part?” I ask. “The turning billions into billions part, the ignoring your sister’s existence part, or our parents are still dead part.” I scream the last words so loud, my whole frame shakes, tears streaming down my cheeks, clutching my father’s khaki jacket tight to my chest.
“I’m sorry,” Dan murmurs, like he has nothing else to offer. Something dark I don’t recognize twists in his eyes.
“Not good enough.” I try very hard not to let his words settle in my brain and melt my anger away. “It’s like I lost the three of you that night. All you care about now is Etheridge Enterprises. I don’t exist in your world anymore.”
He looks like I’ve slapped him in the face. And I wish I could take my words back.
“You could never lose me, Bean.” He takes a step toward me. “I know the change has been drastic and uncomfortable. I don’t expect you to understand why I’m going against Dad’s wishes. But believe me, I have my reasons for taking over from Grandpa.”
“What reasons?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because it could put you in danger.”
“Does that mean you’re in danger?”
“No.”
“You’re lying to me.”
“I’m not!” he shouts, his voice splintering.
For a beat, the echo pulses in the small room.
Then he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I know it’s not fair. But you’ll just have to trust me on this.
I understand that’s a lot to ask after the last few weeks, but it’s still me, Bean. So, can you do me a solid?”
I glare at him for a long minute, while he waits patiently.
“Fine,” I mutter. “But if you leave me on read one more time, I’m going to start trolling you. And with all the secrets I could spill, you’ll get cancelled everywhere.”
“To be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t already.” He laughs. His gaze sweeps the floor, arms open toward the carnage I created. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Kind of,” I mumble and hold up the jacket on one finger. “Why do you have all your old stuff and Dad’s, but my wardrobe is stripped clean?”
“I thought you took what you needed with you,” he blurts quickly, then purses his lips.
“You want to try that again, truth magician?” I giggle. Dan can’t lie. Seriously, he’d better never commit a crime, or it would be the easiest trial in history.
“It’s in storage.” He sighs. “I thought it's best until you are… ready for it.”