CHAPTER FIVE

From the upstairs lounge, Lauren watched her store buzz with life.

Stylists walked in and out of private fitting rooms, models tried on dresses, and assistants hurried around carrying garment bags.

A photographer from Vogue was already setting up by the glass walls. The new sign for The Serena Fox Resort Collection had just gone up. In three days, the launch party would take place here.

Lauren sat quietly with a cup of cold hibiscus tea in her hand. She hadn’t touched it in a while.

The store looked beautiful. It wasn’t just a regular boutique anymore—it had become one of the top fashion spots in Beverly Hills.

Just this week, they had signed a deal to open in Tokyo. Red carpet stylists had rented out the showroom to pull outfits for award season. And a famous pop star had chosen their team for her secret wedding dress.

She hadn’t even had to design anything herself.

The company had grown so much. Different designers and celebrities came in to create capsule collections under her brand name. The business ran smoothly, with the help of her team and shareholders.

It should’ve made her happy. But something felt... off.

She couldn’t stop thinking about what Madeline Carter had said yesterday.

“If you’re really ready to divorce Ethan, I can help you.”

“You deserve better. You know that, don’t you?”

Lauren’s fingers tightened slightly around the cup.

Why had those words felt rehearsed—almost too smooth? Like Madeline had already planned what to say. And why now? Why was she suddenly so eager to help?

Wasn’t this what Lauren wanted? To finally move on?

So why didn’t it feel so easy?

Her mind drifted back to Ethan... to the last time she saw him.

> “Even if you hate me,” he had said, “I still love you.”

A small shiver ran through her.

She looked down at the store again—at the success, the lights, the perfect image.

But all she could feel was that quiet pull in her chest.

Something wasn’t right. And she didn’t know why.

***

Lauren was just driving out of the parking lot when a dark SUV turned in and blocked her path.

She hit the brakes.

Her brows furrowed until the door of the other car swung open—and her heart slipped.

Caleb Monroe.

She hadn’t recognized the car at first—he had so many, it was always hard to tell. But the moment he stepped out, her breath caught.

She opened her door slowly and stepped into the sunlight.

“Caleb?”

He walked toward her, gaze fixed. “What happened between you and Ethan the night you left?”

Her throat tightened. Why is he asking me this now?

She stepped back slightly, her eyes flickering. “Why are you asking that?”

“It’s been almost two months, Lauren. You haven’t been answering my calls, and you’ve barely been home.”

Guilt settled in her chest. She had been splitting her time between hotels and the house—too ashamed to face him, too afraid to face herself. Ever since that night with both men, clarity had slipped further from her reach.

She found her voice. “Caleb… I have something I need to resolve with Ethan. Please. Just give me three months.”

He folded his arms slowly. “What do you need to resolve? Tell me about it.”

“I can’t. Not now. I need you to respect that.”

He stared at her, frustration building in his jaw. “Are you saying we can’t get married for another three months? You already ghosted me for two.”

She stepped forward, quietly. “Do you trust me, Caleb?”

“I trust you. I don’t trust Ethan. And let me ask you—does this ‘resolution’ include not making love for three months too?”

Her silence was enough.

“Caleb, you have to wait for me.”

His voice dropped. “Are you going to be with him?”

She shook her head. “Definitely not. I’ll be alone. We’ll only be married on paper. Nothing more.”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. Then, unexpectedly, he softened. “Let’s go see a movie. Clear our heads. We can take your car. I’ll text my guys to drive mine home.”

She blinked, tears threatening again. How did he still have that effect on her?

She nodded. “Okay.”

She drove—for the first time. Caleb had always driven them everywhere before. But today, she needed the control.

At the cinema, they sat in the VIP section. Just the two of them. No fans. No chaos. Just quiet.

She melted into his arms, and for the first time in weeks, her shoulders relaxed. Caleb always brought warmth—a kind of peace Ethan never could. Ethan gave her fire, wild and consuming. But Caleb? He gave her calm.

She rested her head on his chest.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you so much, Lauren.”

She looked up and saw it in his eyes—the love, the sincerity, the man who never gave up on her. She didn’t need anything else.

She kissed him, lips trembling. A single tear slid down her cheek.

Fear. Guilt. What if he found out? What if he knew she had slept with Ethan and lost herself in the confusion of that night?

After the movie, they drove back—stopping by the supermarket to pick up Granny Rosa’s favorite snacks. Caleb insisted on driving this time. She didn’t argue. Her body felt heavy.

She stared quietly out the window, wondering…

How long before everything crashes again?

***

Madeline Carter sat in front of her vanity as Edith Penrose, her childhood nanny, gently combed her curly red hair.

“You’ve done it,” Edith said, her voice low and pleased. “Beatrice Langford already pushed the story to CNN. Headline reads: ‘Ethan Whitmore Survives Fire, Returns to Find Wife Sold His Properties and Ran from L.A. – Now Engaged to a Billionaire.’”

She paused to smile.

“We made sure it mentioned her fashion company too. And how she’s divorcing her husband—who just came back from the dead—because her fiancé, Caleb Monroe, is rich. We also hinted she was seeing Caleb even before Ethan’s accident.”

Madeline picked up a purple lipstick and carefully ran it across her lips. She smiled into the mirror.

“That should be enough to make Ethan start doubting her,” she said softly. “Soon, he’ll suspect she had something to do with the fire... and when he does, he’ll run straight into my arms.”

Edith laughed. “I remember when you were seven and Lillian Ashford told your father you burned her teddy bear because it was prettier than yours. I told you to cry and lie to your dad, but you panicked.”

She patted Madeline’s shoulder proudly. “Look at you now. At twenty-seven, you’ve learned so well. I’m proud of you.”

Tears welled up in Madeline’s eyes. She looked away from the mirror.

“I don’t want to lose again, Edith,” she whispered. “I know Ethan will love me the way he loved Lauren. I deserve that kind of love.”

“You do,” Edith said firmly. “You’ve waited long enough. Your time has come.”

Madeline gave a shaky laugh and blinked away her tears.

“And when the shareholders start pulling out of Lauren’s company,” she added with a grin, “I’ll pull out last… with a smile on my face. She’ll lose everything.”

***

Raymond Whitmore sat calmly at the corner booth, dressed in a charcoal suit that fit him like memory in a popular Bar in Beverly Hills.

Mandrakes Bar.

He sipped his drink, eyes locked on the door as Jonathan Monroe entered.

He must have traced him to the place. Jobless man. He thought.

Jonathan walked in with his usual confidence—measured steps, sharp eyes. He spotted Raymond and gave a slow, respectful nod before joining him at the table.

Neither man smiled, but both raised a glass.

“Beverly Hills hasn’t changed much,” Jonathan said, taking a slow sip. “Same expensive taste. Same people still chasing the next big thing.”

Raymond chuckled. “Yes… though not everyone is chasing. Some of us are just here to claim what’s already ours.”

Jonathan tilted his head. “The Geneva Link project is quite the prize. I assume you’ve brought your best player to the table?”

“I always do,” Raymond replied smoothly. “And you? Or are you still sending outsiders to represent your house?”

Jonathan’s lips curled slightly. “Outsiders tend to surprise you. Especially when the insiders get... too emotional.”

Raymond leaned back, his voice still calm. “Emotion. Yes. I suppose watching your empire nearly burn down could bring out a bit of that.” He tapped the rim of his glass. “Speaking of fire… Los Angeles. Still no arrests. Strange, isn’t it?”

Jonathan didn’t blink. “Fires come and go, Raymond. Some are accidents. Some are… opportunities.”

Raymond smiled, slow and deliberate. “True. But some fires… were lit on purpose. And I intend to find out who struck the match.”

A pause settled between them like a drawn breath.

Jonathan broke it. “Your son made quite the return. Death suits him well. Looks like he aged with purpose.”

Raymond nodded. “Ethan always had purpose. Even when the world left him for dead, he came back stronger.” He let the words hang. “And Lauren… she’s quite the woman. It's... fascinating, how she managed to draw in both our sons.”

Jonathan’s eyes flickered. “It’s one thing to draw them in. It’s another to keep them. Especially when loyalty bends toward comfort.”

Raymond’s gaze sharpened, but his smile never left. “Comfort is temporary. Legacy lasts longer. I don’t worry about Lauren. She always finds her way back to truth.”

Jonathan set down his glass. “She might. But the courts don’t deal in sentiment. If she files that divorce, it’ll be final.”

Raymond nodded slowly. “Yes… but not everything that’s final is over. You, of all people, know how doors can reopen when they’re least expected.”

The tension between them stretched like glass. Still calm. Still professional. But behind every word, an old war crackled.

Jonathan stood first, adjusting his cuffs. “Well, may the best man win. Or at least the one who prepared better.”

Raymond stayed seated, sipping the last of his whiskey. “Oh, I’ve been prepared since before the fire.”

Their eyes met for a long second—no smiles, no threats spoken.

Only truth.

***

Caleb parked smoothly in front of Lauren’s house. Lauren had fallen asleep in the car on the way back from the movies, exhausted from the long day and the late night.

As they stepped out, a rich, mouthwatering aroma drifted from inside the house.

“Is Granny Rosa cooking?” Lauren asked, rubbing her eyes.

Caleb smiled. “I offered to bring the snacks inside myself.”

Lauren frowned, puzzled. Granny Rosa rarely made such a meal without a special reason.

Curious, they walked inside together. Granny Rosa was setting the dining table, smoothing out the white linens and placing shining silverware.

“Granny Rosa, what’s the occasion? What are you cooking?” Lauren asked.

Before Granny Rosa could answer, Ethan appeared from the kitchen carrying a tray. On it rested seared duck breast with cherry reduction, roasted fingerling potatoes, grilled asparagus, and wild mushroom risotto.

He wore an apron, the kind that made him look calm but purposeful.

“I cooked,” he said, his voice steady, “so the three of us can have dinner together. Me, you, and Granny Rosa.”

He smiled, but it was as if Caleb Monroe standing beside Lauren—holding her hand—was invisible to him.

***

Lauren’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

Ethan smiled warmly but sighed as if barely noticing Caleb beside her. “I made a delicious meal. Your friend is welcome to join us at the table if he wants.”

Lauren blinked, surprised. “What friend?”

Ethan carefully arranged the dishes on the table. “Your good friend, Caleb Monroe, is very welcome at our family table.”

He grinned broadly, eyes calm but confident, while Granny Rosa finished laying the cloth.

Ethan has taken full position in the house, using his relationship with Grandma and legal ground as Lauren's husband.

He didn't look like he was planning to back down anytime soon.