Secrets in the shadows

Chapter 5

The day dawned like any other for Ethan. The dead hum of the alarm, cold stings of morning air as he rolled off to bed. He didn't have to check his phone; he knew what he would find waiting. The grind, the meetings, the tasks, all there to the minute and all exactly predictable, and just that was the way he wanted it.

He showered, then got dressed in a dark suit: tailored, sharp, and perfectly aligned with his carefully crafted image. His reflection stared back from the mirror: a man who had everything together, commanding presence, immaculately groomed, a face that could persuade, intimidate, and control. The thought of the night before rushed into his mind again for the tenth time or rather unknown time.

“I need to see her again.”

Ethan didn't believe in small talk, not in the morning anyway. He got straight to business. Claire, his assistant, was already at his office by the time he arrived, ready with the day's schedule and a cup of coffee, just the way he liked it. He didn't need to ask. She knew him too well by now.

They spent some time going over the day's meetings-investors, potential partners, and a high-profile negotiation that was sure to take up the lion's share of his time. It was the constant in Ethan's life: a flow of these engagements, transactional meetings and agreements that built the empire he controlled.

Claire spoke briefly about the priorities for the day as they made their way through the sterile hallways of his office building. Ethan barely registered the hum of activity around him. His mind was already on the meeting with a new partner, a person whose name didn't ring a bell but whose money could expand his ventures into an entirely new sector. Ethan had already decided the deal would go through, no matter what. It was a calculated risk he was willing to take.

By mid-morning, he sat across from a group of investors in a sleek, glass-walled conference room. The sun outside slanted in, catching the edges of the contract he'd already read a dozen times. The investors, all suited and polished, were waiting on Ethan's decision. They all knew him by reputation-his decisiveness, his sharp mind. But it wasn't just his intellect that kept people in his orbit. It was his ability to make things happen.

The meeting went smoothly. Ethan spoke little, his responses measured, always with a hint of authority. The deal was practically signed before it even began, but Ethan liked to let others think they had the upper hand in these situations. It was part of the game.

As they wrapped up, one of the investors, a younger man with a smarmy smile, tried to engage Ethan in small talk. “I’ve heard about the family business,” he said, casually sipping his water. “Must be tough carrying the weight of that legacy.”

The comment hung in the air, and for a moment, Ethan's eyes narrowed, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing his face. The young man didn't seem to notice, but Ethan was used to these jabs. The legacy of his family—the Coles—was a subject few people dared to bring up in his presence.

His father had been a powerhouse in the business world, loud, brash, and reckless-everything Ethan strove not to be. His mother had been a glamorous socialite, who, when he was well into his teens, had left their marriage in a divorce that was messy, with headlines splashed across every tabloid. Each story was more salacious than the last, and Ethan had gotten caught in the middle, his reputation tainted by the scandal. His father's mismanagement and public outbursts only added fuel to the fire. The divorce was a disaster, but what followed was even worse-the public fallout. Investors pulled out, business deals fell through, and Ethan, at just eighteen, had to step into the wreckage and rebuild. The burden of saving his family's name, of restoring the reputation that had been tarnished by his parents' mess, had haunted him ever since.

Ethan took a slow breath, reminding himself that the past no longer mattered. He had created something of his own-a thing unto itself, aside from the mess that was his childhood. His eyes met the investor's, cool and steady.

"I don't discuss family," Ethan said, his voice as flat as his expression. "Let's focus on the numbers, shall we?

The investor, realizing his mistake, quickly changed the subject back to the terms of the deal.

But Ethan's mind had already wandered. The mention of family had brought old memories bubbling to the surface. He'd always hated the fact that his name came with baggage. That people who had never met him assumed he succeeded because of a trust fund or family connections. None saw all those years of work he had been putting in to separate himself from the disaster his parents had left. After the meeting, he retreated to his office. Claire was waiting for him, the next item on his agenda already in hand. But Ethan wasn’t fully present. His thoughts were preoccupied with that brief mention of his past. His father’s legacy. His mother’s abandonment. His own struggle to rise above it all.

He picked up the glass of whiskey Claire had set on his desk, not really thirsty, but needing the action. He swirled the liquid, watching it move in the glass.

It was years since he'd allowed himself to feel anything about his family, but sometimes, like today, it still lingered, like a bruise that never quite healed. The constant reminder that no matter how high he climbed, there would always be someone ready to pull him down by his roots.

He had always known business wasn't about deals or building wealth; it was about perception. People didn't see him as Ethan Cole, a man with ambition, skill, and drive. They saw him as a product of his parents' disastrous marriage.

He shook off the thoughts, refocusing. He had a brand new deal on the table-this one with potential. The kind of deal that could solidify his position in the industry, the one that could catapult him further than he'd ever dreamed. It was time to let the ghosts of his past fade into the background. He had more important things to focus on.

He got up, gazing out the window down at the city skyline. It was a beautiful view, but it didn't bring him peace. Nothing really did except the constant push to build, to move forward and the beautiful lady he spent the night with. He checked his phone to maybe call her but remember they didn't exchange contacts.

Frustrated, he walks back to his desk and a message popped on his phone from an unknown number.

“Nice escape, I see you've got yourself a company.”

Fear engulfed him.

The last thing he ever wants to do is to get Sophia involved in the mess in his life.

Claire enters to remind him of another meeting he needs to attend urgently.

As he grabbed his coat and prepared to leave, he wondered if anyone had ever really seen him for what he was—a man who had taken the wreckage of his parents' legacy and turned it into something else altogether. Something of his own. He needed to meet Sophia again and to protect her from the harm that might come her way through him. He could not stop thinking of how till he ends the day and drives home to his lonely world.

On getting to the door, a message pops on his phone again. This time, it is a picture of what is just happening, a picture of him standing by the door. He looked around to check if there was an unwanted visitor but the air was silent. Now, he regrets not hiring any security personnel, not even a bodyguard or a driver. He just wanted a solemn life void of rich people’s paparazzi. He didn't have the answer to the drama happening in his life but he didn't need one.

He opens the door, walks in and sees something that made fear dominate his whole body. He picked up a blood stained picture laying on the floor in front of him. At first glance at the picture, he recognises Sophia and panics. Thousands of thoughts rush to his mind but all he is concerned about is if Sophia is safe.

“Who is there”

Silence answered his panicking voice. Just as he was about to move further, he heard footsteps getting closer and nearer. He stood in fear and waited for whoever it was that broke into

his house. As the door creakily opened, the light went off.