Chapter 6: The Ghost of the Past

The air between them thickened with unspoken tension. Lena watched as Ethan tapped his fingers against the whiskey glass, his gaze distant, as if he was staring at something only he could see.

For a man who had built an empire, Ethan looked strangely vulnerable at that moment.

“My brother, huh?” he murmured, his voice carrying the weight of something old and unresolved.

Lena nodded, heart pounding. “Yes. There’s barely anything about him in the public records. Just a name, and then… nothing.”

Ethan let out a dry chuckle, one devoid of humor. “That’s because he doesn’t exist anymore.”

Lena frowned. “What do you mean?”

Ethan finally turned to her, his blue eyes sharper than before. “I mean, you’re asking about a ghost.”

A long silence stretched between them. The bartender refilled his drink, and Ethan downed it in one gulp before speaking again.

“He was my twin. My other half, if you believe in that kind of thing.” His voice hardened. “Then one day, he was gone.”

Lena’s grip on her pen tightened. “Gone how?”

Ethan studied her carefully, as if deciding whether to let her in on a secret he had kept buried for years. Then, with a heavy sigh, he said, “He was murdered.”

Lena’s breath hitched.

Murdered?

That wasn’t what she had expected.

Ethan looked away, his jaw clenching. “We were seventeen. Young. Stupid. We trusted the wrong people. And it cost him his life.”

Lena swallowed, trying to process his words. “Why has no one ever talked about this?”

“Because my family made sure of it,” Ethan said, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “Scandals don’t fit into the Montgomery legacy. So they buried the story—along with my brother.”

Lena shivered. The weight of this revelation pressed on her. “But you… you haven’t buried him, have you?”

Ethan let out a slow breath, rubbing his temple. “How do you bury someone who never leaves you?”

Lena didn’t know what to say. For the first time, she saw him not as the billionaire, the enigma, or the difficult interviewee, but as a man carrying the weight of a past that refused to let go.

She hesitated before reaching out, her fingers brushing his wrist. “I’m sorry.”

Ethan didn’t move. He simply stared at her, something flickering behind his gaze.

Then, just like that, the moment was gone.

He pulled back, his expression unreadable. “Enough about ghosts. You got your answer, journalist.”

Lena knew that was his way of shutting her out. But she also knew this—Ethan Montgomery was far more complicated than she had imagined. And she wasn’t done uncovering his truths.

Not yet.

She retired to her room.

The warning lingered in Lena’s mind like a stubborn shadow, but it wasn’t enough to deter her. If anything, it fueled her curiosity. Ethan Montgomery wasn’t just an eccentric billionaire,he was a man with secrets and someone didn’t want her uncovering them.

But was it him? Or someone else?

The next morning, she decided to find out.

Lena dressed sharply in a fitted blazer and dark jeans, something professional but not too formal. She was playing a dangerous game, and she needed to be prepared for anything.

As she made her way through the lavish hotel lobby, she spotted Ethan’s men stationed near the entrance of the private lounge. The same guards who had barely given her a second glance before now eyed her with clear suspicion.

Good. That meant she was getting under their boss’s skin.

Before they could stop her, she walked up with the kind of confidence she didn’t quite feel and said, “Tell Ethan I’d like to speak with him.”

The taller of the two guards folded his arms. “Mr. Montgomery is busy.”

“I’m sure he is,” Lena said, tilting her head. “But he always finds time to issue warnings. So, I assume he can spare a few minutes for me.”

The guard’s expression didn’t waver, but she saw the slight twitch of his jaw—hesitation. He wasn’t used to being challenged.

Lena exhaled sharply and took a step closer. “Look, I don’t want to cause trouble. But if you don’t let me in, I’ll make sure the press knows that Ethan Montgomery is issuing veiled threats to journalists.”

The guard’s lips pressed into a thin line. Then, to her surprise, he reached for his earpiece.

“She’s here.” A pause. Then a nod. “Understood.”

He stepped aside. “Go in.”

Lena’s pulse quickened. She hadn’t expected that to work so easily.

She entered the lounge, its opulence designed to impress without being gaudy. Dim lighting, polished mahogany, a scent of aged whiskey and expensive cigars.

Ethan sat in an armchair near the bar, dressed in a crisp black dress shirt with the top buttons undone. He swirled a glass of dark liquor in his hand, his expression unreadable as he watched her approach.

“You don’t get scared easily, do you?” he mused, raising his glass slightly.

“I’m a journalist,” she countered. “I’ve been threatened before.”

His lips twitched. “And yet, you’re still here.”

Lena didn’t sit. She crossed her arms and met his gaze head-on. “Did you send me that note?”

Ethan exhaled, setting his glass down. “What do you think?”

She studied him. “No.”

His brow lifted slightly. “Interesting. And why not?”

“Because if you wanted to scare me off, you would’ve done it face-to-face. Not with some anonymous letter.”

A slow smirk crossed his face. “You’re sharp, Ms. Reyes.”

She leaned in slightly. “So if it wasn’t you, then who was it?”

Ethan’s expression darkened. He tapped his fingers against the glass, as if weighing how much he wanted to say.

Finally, he exhaled. “Someone who doesn’t want you anywhere near me.”

Lena’s breath caught.

“So I’m right. There is something bigger happening.”

Ethan stood, stepping closer. There was something dangerous about the way he moved—controlled, precise, like a man who never let his guard down.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” His voice was low, almost intimate.

Lena held her ground. “Then tell me.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. For a moment, she thought he might. But then—

Crash.

The sharp sound of breaking glass shattered the moment.

Both of them turned toward the bar just in time to see a waitress scrambling back, eyes wide with fear.

Behind her stood a woman.

Tall, elegant, with piercing blue eyes and a cold, knowing smile.

Lena didn’t have to ask. She already knew.

Ethan’s fiancée.