FAZER LOGINEthan's POV
The Harrington family had a particular talent for making ordinary events feel like examinations.
By nine the next morning, Sophia had already called me twice, asking whether I was ready to leave. I had been ready for twenty minutes, standing downstairs in a dark suit I'd worn more times than I cared to count, listening to Richard Harrington give instructions to everyone except me. The event was being held at the Grand Meridian, one of the city's most expensive hotels, where Harrington Group was hosting a private luncheon for several investors and business partners. Richard had spent the entire week talking about it as though the future of the company depended on whether the right people admired his table arrangements. Maybe, in his world, it did.
When Sophia finally appeared at the bottom of the staircase, I understood why she'd been taking so long. She wore a fitted navy dress with a simple silver necklace, her hair swept back from her face. She looked confident, polished, and entirely out of place beside me in a way that somehow made me feel more comfortable than embarrassed. Sophia glanced at my suit, then at my shoes, and I caught the familiar hesitation in her expression.
"You've worn that before."
"Twice."
"More than twice."
"Fine. Several times."
She almost smiled. "You know this is an important event."
"I know."
"My father wants me beside him when the investors arrive."
"Then I'll stay out of your way."
Her expression changed.
"That's not what I meant."
"I know."
She sighed and walked toward me. "Ethan, you don't have to make yourself invisible every time we're around my family."
I looked at her for a moment.
"That's not what I'm doing."
"Then what are you doing?"
Before I could answer, Richard's voice came from the sitting room.
"Sophia!"
She closed her eyes briefly.
"We're leaving."
I stepped aside to let her pass. Richard emerged a moment later with two of his senior executives behind him. His gaze landed on me, moved over my suit, and paused at my shoes.
"You came."
"I was invited."
His mouth tightened.
"Don't embarrass my daughter today."
Sophia immediately frowned. "Dad."
"I'm speaking to him."
Richard straightened his jacket and looked at me as though I were an employee who had failed to understand his instructions. "This luncheon is important. Investors will be there. People who actually matter. So stay quiet, stay out of the way, and don't try to involve yourself in business conversations you don't understand."
I nodded.
"Understood."
He looked almost disappointed that I hadn't argued.
"Good."
Then he walked away.
Sophia watched him go.
"I'm sorry."
I gave her a quickl smile.
"You say that too often."
"Because he says things he shouldn't."
"He always has."
She didn't answer. We followed them outside.
The Grand Meridian was exactly what I expected. Too much marble and glasses. Too many people pretending they weren't measuring one another. Harrington Group had reserved the entire ballroom floor. Company banners stood beside the entrance, waiters carried champagne through the crowd, and a string quartet played softly near the stage. Executives greeted one another with practiced smiles while assistants moved between them carrying tablets and folders.
Sophia disappeared almost immediately beside her father. I stayed near the back because that was exactly where I was expected to be. From there, I could see everything. That had always been enough for me.
A presentation screen occupied most of the stage, displaying the Harrington Group logo beside the title of their latest project—the Westbrook Development Initiative. Richard had been talking about the project for months. It was supposed to become the company's biggest investment of the decade, a massive commercial development involving luxury apartments, retail space, and a private financial district. The numbers were enormous. The risks were even larger.
I listened as one of the executives explained the projected returns to a group of investors. Something didn't sound right, i frowned. The executive continued speaking. I looked at the presentation screen. Then at the financial summary in the folder sitting on a nearby table then back at the screen. There, a small discrepancy. Almost invisible. The projected annual return on the screen didn't match the figure in the printed financial report. Not by much but enough. I walked closer, no one noticed so I picked up the folder and scanned the figures again. My stomach tightened, this wasn't a formatting mistake. The projected return had been calculated using an outdated interest assumption.
If the investors noticed, they would question the entire financial model. Worse… someone could accuse Harrington Group of deliberately manipulating the numbers. I looked toward the stage. Richard was smiling confidently while Sophia stood beside him. Neither had noticed. I had two choices..Stay silent or intervene. The first would be easier because the second would put me exactly where Richard had warned me not to go, nevertheless I chose the second. So I quietly walked toward Sophia when the presentation paused for questions.
She noticed me approaching and immediately looked surprised.
"What is it?"
I lowered my voice.
"The Westbrook projections."
Her expression tightened.
"What about them?"
"Slide fourteen."
She turned toward the screen.
I continued quietly.
"The return figure doesn't match the financial model in the report. The presentation uses the old borrowing rate."
She stared at me.
"Are you sure?"
"Check the second table on page twelve."
She opened the folder. Her eyes moved across the numbers, then stopped. For a second, I watched the color leave her face.
"Ethan..."
"Don't react."
She looked at me.
"How did you.."
"Fix it before someone asks."
She nodded slowly. I stepped away quietly, I returned to the back of the room just as the presentation resumed. Less than two minutes later, Sophia interrupted the executive.
"Excuse me."
Everyone turned. She smiled professionally.
"Before we continue, I'd like to clarify one figure on slide fourteen."
The executive looked confused. Richard looked irritated. Sophia calmly explained the corrected figure and requested that the presentation be updated before the next section. There was a brief silence. Then one of the investors nodded.
"Good catch."
Another agreed. Richard smiled.
"Yes. We caught that internally."
I looked at my father in law,he was so proud of his daughter. when Sophia returned to her seat, she glanced toward the back of the room. Her eyes searching for me and when they finally found me, she smiled slightly. Her eyes stayed there for a second longer than necessary. She was beginning to wonder, so was someone else.
Across the ballroom, an older man in a dark suit had been watching the entire exchange. He hadn't looked at the presentation once rather he had been watching me and I had no idea who he was.
Ethan's POVThe Harrington family had a particular talent for making ordinary events feel like examinations.By nine the next morning, Sophia had already called me twice, asking whether I was ready to leave. I had been ready for twenty minutes, standing downstairs in a dark suit I'd worn more times than I cared to count, listening to Richard Harrington give instructions to everyone except me. The event was being held at the Grand Meridian, one of the city's most expensive hotels, where Harrington Group was hosting a private luncheon for several investors and business partners. Richard had spent the entire week talking about it as though the future of the company depended on whether the right people admired his table arrangements. Maybe, in his world, it did.When Sophia finally appeared at the bottom of the staircase, I understood why she'd been taking so long. She wore a fitted navy dress with a simple silver necklace, her hair swept back from her face. She looked confident, polished
Ethan's POV Samuel Brooks didn't offer me a seat immediately. He stood behind his desk with both hands resting against the polished wood, studying me with the kind of attention that made me feel less like a visitor and more like a document he'd been waiting years to open. There was nothing particularly threatening about him. He was probably in his late sixties, perhaps older, with silver hair combed neatly away from his forehead and a pair of thin glasses resting low on his nose. His charcoal suit was understated, but everything about him suggested precision.He looked at me for another few seconds before finally gesturing toward the chair opposite his desk."Please sit"I walked to the chair and sat while he remained standing."You're Ethan Cole.""Yes.""Twenty-nine years old."I said nothing."Married to Sophia Harrington for three years."My eyes narrowed slightly."That's not difficult information to find.""No."He walked around the desk and lowered himself into his chair."It
Ethan's POVSleep never came easily after the Harrington family dinner. Not because Richard's words echoed in my head. They stopped doing that a long time ago. The real reason was much simpler. Nights like those reminded me how strange my life had become. Three years earlier, I'd walked into the Harrington mansion believing that respect could be earned through patience, hard work, and quiet dignity. Three years later, I knew better. Some people made up their minds about your worth the moment they saw your bank account, and no amount of character could change it. Still.. I had never regretted marrying Sophia, not for once.The first rays of sunlight slipped through the curtains before I finally climbed out of bed. Beside me, Sophia was already awake, sitting against the headboard with a laptop balanced on her knees. She looked just as she had the night before, composed on the outside, exhausted underneath. Her hair was tied into a loose ponytail, and the dark circles beneath her eyes b
Ethan's POV The dining hall looked less like a place where families gathered and more like a showroom built to remind people how much money could buy. A twenty-foot crystal chandelier poured warm light over a polished mahogany table long enough to seat thirty people, though only half the chairs were occupied. Fresh lilies decorated the center, expensive wine breathed inside crystal decanters, and every plate had been arranged with mathematical precision. The Harrington family liked perfection. At least, the kind that could be photographed.I stepped inside a few paces behind Sophia. Conversations didn't stop. They simply shifted. Eyes found me for a fraction of a second before politely pretending they hadn't. A cousin whispered something to his wife. She covered her smile behind her wine glass. One of Richard Harrington's business partners looked me over from head to toe, silently deciding whether I belonged among them. His conclusion wasn't difficult to guess."Ethan."Richard's voi
Ethan's POVThree years, that's how long it takes for people to stop seeing you as a man. At first, they still pretend. They ask how you're settling in, whether you've found work, whether you're planning for the future,then the questions disappear, the smiles become thinner.The greetings become shorter. Eventually, you stop being a son-in-law, you become a burden. A mistake everyone regrets.Three years ago, when I married Sophia Harrington, the headlines called it an unexpected union, the business magazines called it a reckless decision, the socialites called it a tragedy. The Harrington family… they never bothered giving it a name. To them, I was simply the man who wasn't supposed to exist, a stain on the family portrait and a parasite. Funny how a single word repeated often enough, can become someone's identity. Not mine but theirs, because while they spent three years convincing themselves I was worthless…I spent three years learning exactly who they were.I stood in the kitchen,







