Chapter 5 - Spoiled

"Here—your toothbrush.”

Ethan handed Belle a brand-new one before taking his own from the rack. They stood side by side in front of the mirror, the quiet sound of brushing filling the space between them.

Their reflections stared back—so close, so… natural.

Something stirred inside Ethan. Warm. Unfamiliar.

He watched the mirror longer than necessary, his gaze shifting briefly toward her. This—this simple act—was something he had never shared with anyone. Not once. His life had always been carefully guarded, distant, controlled.

Yet here he was. Standing beside her. Brushing his teeth with her like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

And strangely—It felt right.

Beside him, Belle kept her eyes mostly on the sink, though she couldn’t help the occasional glance at their reflection. She was wearing a pajama set that clearly belonged to him—too big, the sleeves covering part of her hands, the fabric hanging loosely over her small frame.

But instead of feeling awkward…She felt safe. Wrapped in something that belonged to him—someone who had protected her, helped her—gave her a quiet sense of security she didn’t fully understand.

When they finished, they returned to the bedroom.

“You should eat more,” Ethan said suddenly, his brows knitting slightly as his eyes swept over her figure.

“You’re too skinny.”

Belle instinctively looked down at herself, her fingers lightly circling her wrist.

It was small. Too small.

“I ate a lot during dinner…” she murmured softly, almost defensively.

“You need to eat like that every meal,” he replied, already glancing at his phone, scrolling through emails.

Her eyes widened slightly.

“Can I?” she asked, genuine surprise coloring her voice.

“But… there are many people here. They should eat too…”

“There’s more than enough food in this house,” he said without looking up.

“Even if you eat more, it won’t affect anyone.”

She blinked, processing that. Slowly.

The idea of enough—of not having to measure every bite—felt… unfamiliar.

Ethan glanced up again after a moment and frowned slightly.

“Why are you still standing there?” he said. “Go lie down.”

Belle hesitated—but obeyed.

Carefully, she moved to the far edge of the massive bed, lowering herself gently onto it. The moment her back touched the mattress, a soft sigh escaped her lips. It was… unbelievably soft.

Comfort wrapped around her like something she had never known before. Her body relaxed instinctively, melting into the bed as if it welcomed her.

She closed her eyes briefly, savoring it.

This kind of comfort…It didn’t exist in her world. And yet, here she was. Because of him.

Ethan watched her from where he sat, noticing how far she had positioned herself—almost at the very edge, as if afraid to take up space.

He shook his head faintly but said nothing, returning to his phone.

Minutes passed.Then—Silence. He looked up again. Her breathing had steadied. She had fallen asleep. Just like that.

Something in his chest softened.

After finishing his emails, he set his phone aside and stood. Walking over, he paused for a moment, watching her sleeping form.

Then gently—carefully—he pulled her closer, moving her toward the center of the bed.

She didn’t wake. Her body simply shifted into him. Naturally. As if she belonged there.

He wrapped an arm around her, holding her small frame against his chest. His gaze lingered on her face—peaceful now, free of fear, free of worry.

His thumb brushed lightly against her cheek.

“You’ll be okay now,” he murmured softly.

“You won’t have to worry anymore.”

His voice was low, almost a whisper meant only for the quiet night.

“No more hunger. No more fear.” He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Then pulled her a little closer. A faint smile settled on his lips. And for the first time in a long while—He fell asleep… content.

The next morning came too quickly.

“Good day, Mr. CEO. We’re honored by your visit,” the store manager greeted as soon as Ethan stepped inside—Belle’s hand still held firmly in his.

Still in her school uniform, Belle looked completely out of place in the luxurious boutique.

And completely overwhelmed.

“Choose whatever you like,” Ethan said softly, turning to her.

Belle leaned closer to him, whispering urgently, “It’s too expensive here… we can go somewhere cheaper. I know a place—”

Her words didn’t stay as quiet as she intended. Soft chuckles rippled around them. Until Ethan lifted his gaze. Silence fell instantly.

“It’s fine,” he said calmly, turning back to her. “Just choose.”

Then, without waiting—

“Mitch,” he called. “Help her pick everything she needs.”

“Yes, sir,” Mitch replied promptly, already stepping forward.

“Come with me, Miss Belle.”

Belle barely had time to react before she was being guided toward racks of clothes.

And the chaos began. Mitch pulled out outfit after outfit, handing them to Belle with enthusiasm.

Belle, on the other hand, kept flipping the price tags—her eyes widening each time—only to try putting them back.

Mitch would immediately retrieve them again, shooting her playful glares.

Meanwhile, Ethan sat on a nearby couch, quietly watching, a drink placed in front of him.

Not long after, Pete arrived with documents, and soon the two were reviewing contracts right there in the boutique.

Still—Ethan’s attention kept drifting. Back to her.

“I like that one,” he said suddenly.

Belle and Mitch both turned.

“See?!” Mitch exclaimed triumphantly. “I told you!”

Belle pouted slightly, sticking her tongue out at her.

“It’s expensive…” Belle whispered anxiously.

“It won’t bankrupt him,” Mitch replied casually.

“That’s loose change for him.”

Belle blinked. Still unconvinced. But she tried on the next outfit anyway.

And the next.

And the next.

Hours passed.

Ethan approved almost everything. Watched almost everything. Even stood up at some point to browse himself—picking small things for her. Hair ties. Clips. Slippers. Robes. Things she would never think to buy.

By the time they were done, Belle’s legs ached, her energy completely drained.

But her arms—Were full.

Paper bags hung from both hands, some slipping down her wrists, others pressed tightly against her chest. The weight of them should have felt overwhelming… yet it wasn’t the kind of heaviness she was used to.

This was different. Strange. Unfamiliar.

And somewhere between the exhaustion and the disbelief, a quiet realization settled deep in her heart.

This life… still feels unreal.

Ethan didn’t stop there. When they reached the counter, he didn’t step forward.

He didn’t take the card. Instead—he let her handle it.

“Use it,” he said simply from where he sat at the lounge, relaxed, composed, as if this was nothing.

As if this was normal. Belle froze.

The black card in her hand suddenly felt heavier than all the bags she carried combined.

Her fingers tightened around it as she approached the counter, her steps hesitant. A thin sheen of sweat formed on her forehead despite the cool air inside the boutique.

She glanced back.

Ethan remained seated, one arm resting lazily on the couch, his gaze on her—calm, unreadable.

No intention of helping. No intention of stepping in. Her chest tightened. Why is he making me do this…?

The cashier smiled politely.

“Ma’am, your total is—”

Belle heard the number. And her world nearly stopped.

“H-Huh… that much?” she blurted out, her voice small but filled with disbelief.

“That could already buy a house…”

Her grip on the card loosened slightly as panic flickered across her face.

Instinctively, she turned to Ethan again.

Help me.

But he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just watched. Her throat went dry. Slowly… reluctantly… she turned back.

Taking a deep breath, she handed the card to the cashier. Her fingers trembled. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears as the machine processed the payment. Then came the small pad.

“Please sign here, ma’am.”

Belle stared at it. The stylus. The blank space waiting for her name.

Her name.

She looked back at Ethan again, her eyes silently pleading.

“You sign it,” he said casually.

As if it were the simplest thing in the world. Her chest rose and fell sharply.

He’s serious…

She swallowed hard. Then reached for the stylus. Her hand shook as she brought it down, slowly writing her name—each stroke careful, uncertain, as if she feared the letters themselves might reject her.

When she finished, she stared at it for a second.

Belle Perez.

On a transaction worth more than she had ever imagined holding in her lifetime.

“Here’s your copy, Miss Belle. Thank you for shopping with us.”

The cashier’s cheerful tone felt distant. Muted.

Belle took the receipt and the slip, her eyes fixed on the inked signature.

Her signature. Recognized. Accepted. Honored.

And yet—Her chest felt heavy.

Not happy. Not excited. Just… heavy.

Yesterday, they had looked at her like a criminal.

Today—Her name held power. Enough to spend an amount that could change lives.

Her fingers gently traced the signature on the slip. Her lips parted slightly.

“I could already build a home for Uncle Ram and Aunt Crizzy with this…” she whispered softly.

The words barely reached the air. But Ethan heard them. His brows drew together as he stood and walked toward her, closing the distance in just a few strides.

“Hey… what’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer right away. Still staring at the receipt. Still lost in that quiet ache.

Without another word, Ethan pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her small frame.

Firm. Protective.

“You want a better home for them?” he asked softly, his voice gentler than before.

“Yes,” she whispered instantly, her fingers clutching lightly at his shirt. No hesitation.

Something in his chest tightened.

“I can arrange that,” he murmured against her hair.

Belle stilled.

“Really?” she asked, pulling back slightly to look at him, hope flickering in her eyes—only to dim just as quickly. “But… they don’t have money to rent somewhere better…”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said quietly, his hand resting on the back of her head, drawing her close again.

“Leave it to me.” His voice was steady and certain.

Belle stared at him again, searching his face—carefully, almost cautiously—trying to find even the smallest trace of doubt in his words.

But there was none. Only quiet certainty.

And something deeper… something steady and unwavering that she was only beginning to understand.

Her fingers tightened around his sleeve. And for the first time since holding that receipt—The weight in her chest eased. Just a little.

“I promise you,” Ethan murmured softly, his voice low and coaxing.

“I’ll take care of it. Now smile… please don’t be sad.”

He said it without hesitation, completely ignoring the curious stares around them. It wasn’t every day people saw him like this—soft, patient, almost… gentle.

The same man known for his cold precision and distant authority.

Belle looked at him, then slowly—shyly—smiled.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Ethan gave a small nod, his lips curving into a warm smile that seemed reserved only for her.

“Come,” he said, lightly brushing his thumb against her cheek. “Let’s have lunch. What do you want?”

“Ice cream!” Belle blurted out immediately, her eyes lighting up.

Ethan chuckled, the sound low and amused.

“That’s not lunch,” he said, gently pinching her nose.

“That’s dessert.”

“Then… anything for lunch,” she corrected quickly, then leaned closer, her voice hopeful.

“But can I have ice cream after?”

He raised a brow at her eagerness—but there was no real resistance in him.

“You can have all the ice cream you want,” he said, a hint of seriousness returning to his tone, “as long as you eat properly first.”

Belle nodded eagerly, her smile bright and unguarded.

“I will!”

And she did.

During lunch, Belle ate more than she ever had in a long time—maybe even ever. Dish after dish was placed before her, each one richer, more flavorful than anything she had known.

She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t hold back.

She tasted everything, her eyes lighting up with every bite, her quiet murmurs of appreciation slipping out without restraint.

Ethan watched her the entire time. Silent. But satisfied.

After lunch, true to his word, he brought her to a gelato shop.

The moment they stepped inside, Belle froze. Her eyes widened. Her lips parted.

Rows upon rows of vibrant colors and flavors stretched before her—more choices than she could comprehend.

“Oh no…” she whispered, panic creeping into her voice.

“How do I choose…?”

Behind her, Ethan, Pete, and Mitch exchanged amused glances before chuckling softly. Belle looked like a child lost in a dream.

After several minutes of internal struggle, she finally ordered three flavors—carefully chosen after what seemed like the hardest decision of her life.

And in no time—They were gone.

“I’m so full…” she mumbled, pressing a hand to her stomach. “…but I still want more.”

Her eyes lingered on the display, filled with longing. Ethan smiled.

Not just a simple smile—But something softer. Something rare.

Pete and Mitch noticed it immediately. They weren’t looking at Belle anymore. They were looking at him.

At the man who never smiled like that. At the man who now couldn’t seem to stop.

As they prepared to leave, Belle kept glancing back, reluctant to let go of the colorful display.

Ethan followed her gaze. Then, without a second thought—

“Arrange for that entire freezer to be delivered at home,” he told Pete casually, already guiding Belle toward the exit.

Pete blinked once—then nodded.

“Yes, Ethan.”

Belle froze mid-step.

“…What?” She turned to him, eyes wide.

“Really? The whole freezer?” she asked, her voice filled with disbelief and excitement.

“Yes,” Ethan replied simply, his lips lifting again at her reaction.

“It’ll be at home later.”

Her face lit up instantly.

“Thank you! Thank you!” she exclaimed, tugging on his hand like an excited child, completely oblivious to the attention they were drawing.

Ethan didn’t mind. Not even a little.

For Belle, that simple gesture meant more than anyone around them could understand.

Ice cream—Something so small, so ordinary for others—Was a luxury she had long buried in memory.

The last time she had ice cream…Was years ago.

“I remember when I was a child,” she said softly, her voice turning distant with memory, “my father would always buy me ice cream on my birthday.”

Ethan stopped walking. He looked down at her, his brows pulling together slightly.

“Belle,” he said, almost exasperated, “I’m too young to be your father. And I don’t want you to think of me that way.”

She blinked—then laughed.

“Of course I know that!” she said, teasing.

“You’re way too young. You’re just a silly old man.”

Silence fell behind them. Pete and Mitch stiffened. Even the security team froze for a second.

No one—no one—had ever dared speak to Ethan like that. Not even Pete.

Ethan, however, didn’t look offended. He scoffed lightly instead.

“I’m only eleven years older than you,” he countered, pinching her nose again.

“I’m not old, you silly skinny girl.”

Belle laughed—bright, carefree, unrestrained—as she swung their joined hands.

Behind them, Pete and Mitch visibly sagged in relief.

“I swear…” Mitch muttered under her breath, clutching her chest.

“These two will give me a heart attack…”

The group slowed, watching the pair walk ahead—completely in their own world.

Unaware. Unbothered. Two figures moving side by side, hands intertwined, laughter lingering in the air.

And for once—The man they served didn’t look like a CEO.

He looked like someone… happy.

****😊😉****