108 - The Game Is Over
The front door was still half open behind him.
A thin stream of cold evening air slid across the marble floor and stirred the edge of the curtain near the window. Ethan stood in the doorway for a second longer than necessary, his coat hanging loosely from his shoulders, dark hair slightly disordered like he'd moved too quickly to care.
No one spoke.
Scarlett's heart lurched so violently she had to steady herself against the edge of the table. The wood pressed into her palm. Relief hit her so suddenly it almost hurt.
Ethan stepped inside and pushed the door closed with a quiet click.
The sound felt final.
Across the room, Catherine's expression froze.
Andrian straightened slowly, his eyes narrowing as he studied Ethan.
Ethan's gaze settled on Catherine.
"What do you think now, Catherine?"
His voice was low. Calm.
But something in it made the room feel smaller.
Catherine blinked once, like someone waking from a slap. Then her expression shifted—smooth, practiced. Her lips trembled slightly.
"Ethan..." she breathed. "Thank God you're here."
She turned toward him quickly, one hand lifting to her chest as if she'd been carrying an unbearable amount of stress.
"I tried to stop this," she said hurriedly. "I swear I did. But Andrian—"
She pointed sharply toward him.
"—he's the one behind everything. He's been obsessed with Scarlett for months. I only got involved because I was worried about her."
Scarlett stared at her.
The lie came so easily it almost sounded believable.
Ethan didn't respond immediately.
He simply started walking.
Each step was unhurried. Controlled. His shoes made soft sounds against the marble floor as he crossed the room.
Scarlett felt tension coil slowly in her stomach.
"Ethan..." she said quietly.
She wasn't sure if she was trying to warn him or stop him.
He didn't look at her.
He stopped directly in front of Andrian.
For a moment, the two men just looked at each other.
Scarlett's breath caught. She was almost certain Ethan was about to swing.
Instead Ethan said calmly,
"Thank you, Andrian."
The words hung oddly in the air.
Scarlett blinked.
"If you hadn't called me last night," Ethan continued, "I would've missed my chance to save Scarlett."
Scarlett's head snapped toward them.
"Wait... what?"
Andrian gave a small nod.
"I didn't do it for you," he said evenly.
His voice wasn't hostile. But it wasn't friendly either.
"I did it for her. Do you think I was going to wait until you showed up?"
His eyes flicked briefly toward Scarlett.
"If you ever hurt her again," he added quietly, "just remember someone else is paying attention."
Ethan held his gaze for a second longer.
Then he gave a slight nod, accepting the statement without argument.
Scarlett took an unsteady step backward.
The realization came slowly.
All this time she had believed Andrian had betrayed her. That he had been helping Catherine manipulate everything.
But he had been the one who warned Ethan.
Her chest tightened painfully.
Ethan turned toward her then.
The cold edge in his expression softened slightly.
"It's over, Scarlett," he said. "You don't need to leave."
Behind him, Catherine's composure cracked.
Just for a second.
Then it returned—brittle, but determined.
Scarlett suddenly became aware of the suitcase beside the couch.
It looked ridiculous now.
Half packed. Slightly open. A gray sweater sleeve was sticking out of the zipper.
Catherine followed Ethan's gaze to it and then back to him.
"You're believing them?" she asked, incredulous.
Ethan looked at her.
"You think I didn't know?"
Her smile flickered.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Ethan exhaled slowly through his nose, like someone whose patience had just been tested.
"Let's start with the contract you stole."
Scarlett stiffened.
Catherine laughed sharply.
"That's absurd."
Ethan tilted his head slightly.
"The night you took it," he said calmly, "you stayed in my office for eleven minutes."
Catherine's smile faltered.
"You checked your phone three times. You pretended to rearrange files. Then you opened the left drawer of my desk and removed the contract."
Scarlett felt a jolt run through her.
Ethan continued almost conversationally.
"The security cameras recorded the entire thing."
Catherine's lips parted.
"I watched it the next morning," Ethan said. "With coffee, actually. Not how I planned to start the day."
Scarlett blinked at that oddly normal detail.
Catherine recovered quickly.
"So what? You're accusing me based on some blurry footage?"
Ethan shook his head.
"No."
He took a slow step closer.
"I'm accusing you because I saw it clearly."
The silence in the room thickened.
"And after that," Ethan continued, "I decided to see what else you were doing."
Catherine's eyes flickered.
"So the next morning," he said, "I hired someone to follow you."
Scarlett's eyebrows lifted.
"Actually," Ethan added after a second, "two people. One was terrible at it."
Andrian huffed quietly.
"What?"
"He followed her into a bakery for forty minutes because he thought she was meeting someone."
Scarlett stared at Ethan.
"Was she?" she asked without thinking.
Ethan shook his head.
"She was buying croissants."
A brief, awkward pause settled over the room.
Scarlett glanced at Andrian. He looked like he might laugh but thought better of it.
Then Ethan continued, his tone hardening again.
"But the second investigator was competent."
He looked directly at Catherine.
"They reported every place you went. Every meeting you had."
Catherine crossed her arms tightly.
"That's illegal."
"No," Ethan replied calmly. "It's private surveillance."
Scarlett noticed the faint crease between Ethan's brows—the one that appeared when he was irritated.
"While I was in Italy," he continued, "I received updates every day."
His gaze flicked briefly toward Scarlett.
"Every time you contacted her."
Scarlett's throat tightened.
"They told me how often you called. How often you visited. What you said when you thought no one was listening."
Catherine's breathing grew uneven.
"They also told me," Ethan went on, "that you were pushing her to leave this house."
Scarlett felt the familiar ache in her chest.
"And I knew why," he added quietly.
Catherine scoffed. "Oh please."
"You wanted leverage," Ethan said simply. "You thought if Scarlett left me, you could control the situation."
He paused.
"You miscalculated."
Catherine's composure was visibly cracking now.
"And then," Ethan said, "Andrian called me."
He glanced toward him.
"He confirmed you were planning something tonight."
Andrian shifted his weight slightly but didn't interrupt.
"You arranged to meet Scarlett. You planned to scare her enough that she'd run."
Scarlett's fingers tightened around the edge of the chair.
"And you planned to make it look like her fault," Ethan added.
Catherine didn't answer.
"That's when I left Italy," he said.
Scarlett looked up.
"You just... left?"
Ethan shrugged faintly and nodded.
"But John said you were halfway through a negotiation worth several hundred million," Scarlett said.
Andrian let out a low whistle.
Ethan glanced at him.
"It'll survive."
Then his gaze returned to Scarlett.
"But I wasn't going to sit there discussing logistics while someone tried to manipulate you."
Her eyes burned.
"You came back for me."
"Yes."
The answer was immediate.
Across the room Catherine shook her head frantically.
"You're lying," she snapped.
Ethan's expression cooled.
"Am I?"
He stepped closer.
"Then explain how I knew you threatened Scarlett on the phone last night."
Catherine froze.
"Or how I knew you met her at the café on Turner Street yesterday."
Her eyes widened.
"My investigators were sitting two tables away," Ethan said.
Scarlett stared at him.
"They heard everything?"
"Most of it," he admitted. "The espresso machine was loud."
Scarlett almost laughed. The sound caught awkwardly in her throat.
Ethan looked back at Catherine.
"You've been watched for weeks."
Her breathing became ragged.
"You're caught," he said quietly.
Before she could respond—
The roar of engines filled the driveway outside.
Red and blue lights flashed through the windows, painting the marble floor in brief pulses of color.
Scarlett turned toward the door.
Catherine's face drained of color.
A firm knock echoed through the house.
Two police officers entered moments later, followed by a suited investigator holding a thin folder.
He nodded respectfully toward Ethan.
Ethan folded his arms.
"It's not just my word," he said.
The investigator opened the folder.
"Catherine Ward," one officer said, stepping forward, "you're under arrest for harassment, blackmail, and unlawful intrusion."
"No."
Catherine backed away.
"No, this is insane!"
The officer reached for her arm.
She jerked violently.
"Don't touch me!"
Her eyes darted to Andrian.
"Help me!" she shouted. "You're just going to stand there?"
Andrian didn't move.
"This is your mess," he said quietly.
Her face twisted with rage.
"You're all pathetic!"
The officers pulled her toward the door as she struggled.
"You'll regret this!" she screamed at Ethan. "Both of you!"
The door slammed behind them.
The house fell silent.
Scarlett slowly sank into the nearest chair.
Her hands trembled in her lap.
Ethan walked over and crouched in front of her.
For a moment he didn't say anything. His thumb brushed a tear from her cheek.
"It's over," he said gently.
Scarlett searched his face.
"Is it?"
Ethan hesitated.
Then he nodded.
"As long as I'm here," he said quietly, "no one is taking you anywhere."
Scarlett leaned back slowly. Exhaustion settled over her like a heavy coat.
Across the room, Andrian quietly picked up Scarlett's abandoned suitcase and moved it out of the middle of the floor so no one would trip over it.
He set it beside the wall.
No one mentioned it.
But Catherine's final scream still echoed faintly in Scarlett's mind.
And for some reason, Scarlett had the uneasy feeling that this story wasn't finished yet.