Chapter Five-Caught Off Guard
817 Words
Ethan Blackwood had been staring at the same file for ten minutes, yet he hadn’t read a single line. His mind wasn’t in the office.
It was stuck at home.
Stuck with her.
Michael Rodriguez — his closest friend and head of investigations at Blackwood firm — walked in with a stack of documents.
“So, more updates on Lucas’s case,” Michael said, dropping the files on Ethan’s table. “Turns out our dear cousin has committed more crimes than we thought. Fraud, stolen assets, hidden accounts… the list just keeps growing.”
Silence.
Michael continued talking, flipping through papers, until he realized Ethan wasn’t responding. Ethan’s eyes were fixed on the window, lost in thought — or lost in a certain woman.
Michael blinked, then reached across the desk and tapped him on the arm.
“Ethan.”
No answer.
Michael smirked, leaned closer, and said loudly,
“Someone can’t wait to run home to his new wife.”
Ethan snapped out of it instantly.
“What?”
Michael folded his arms dramatically. “Yes, Ethan. Your wife. The one you pretend you hate but clearly can’t stop thinking about.”
Ethan scoffed and tossed the pen aside.
“She’s a witch.”
Michael burst into laughter. “Yet you married her.”
Ethan opened his mouth to explain himself, but Daniel cut him off with an exaggerated wave.
“Please. Spare me, Ethan. Just admit it — she’s a beauty.”
“Michael, get out.”
Michael laughed harder and left the office, shaking his head.
Once the door closed, Ethan exhaled. He rubbed a hand over his face and picked up the file Michael had dropped off. More evidence. He had thought Lucas’s sins ended with the embezzlement at the Blackwood Hotel he managed — but this... this was worse. A murder case. An employee whose death traced back to him, with reports stating he had sexually assaulted her so violently.
“Rot in jail,” he muttered.
He grabbed his phone and pressed his intercom.
“Cancel all my meetings,” he told his secretary. “I’m going to see the monster.”
At the Jail — Amara
Amara sat quietly in the visitation room, her hands trembling slightly as her gaze stayed on the glass window. She was dressed in a dark-green fitted, expensive corporate gown, one that spoke elegance.
Then Lucas walked in, handcuffed, escorted by a guard.
He sat opposite her, and instead of looking broken or ashamed…
He smiled.
The sight of him made Amara’s throat tighten. Tears blurred her vision.
“Five minutes,” the guard said before stepping outside.
Lucas leaned closer. “Hey, stop crying.”
Amara nodded quickly, wiping her cheeks even though the tears kept falling.
“I brought your favorite meal,” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “Chicken soup with rice.”
Lucas’s eyes lit up. “You must have heard my cry. The food here is garbage.”
He took the warm container from her and inhaled deeply before eating. After two bites, he looked straight at her.
“How’s the plan?”
Amara swallowed. “Going smooth,” she whispered. “Soon… Ethan will hopelessly fall in love. And then I’ll strike.”
Lucas grinned proudly.
“Who knew my angel could turn wicked overnight?”
She smiled weakly. “I learnt from the best.”
Lucas’s expression shifted, more serious now.
“I need a phone.”
Amara froze. “Lucas… that could put both of us in trouble.”
“Not if you don’t act suspicious,” he said calmly. “I need it, Amara.”
Fear pricked her chest, but she nodded slowly.
“Okay. I’ll… bring it next time.”
Anything for Lucas. She owed him that. At least that’s what she kept telling herself.
Ethan Arrives
Ethan pushed through the prison doors, anger simmering in his chest.
“I want to see Lucas,” he told the jailer.
The man flipped through a logbook.
“Oh—his wife is already here.”
Ethan stopped.
“His what?”
The jailer barely finished before Ethan moved past him, ignoring the man’s attempts to call him back.
“Sir! You can’t go in there—!”
Ethan paid no heed.
He reached the visitation hallway…
took one step inside…
and froze.
His phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor.
There, behind the glass, sat Amara.
Not looking cold.
Not looking distant.
Not looking like the woman he had been avoiding for a week.
No.
She was sitting across from Lucas, holding his hand gently across the table, her face soft and emotional.
For a moment, no one moved.
Amara’s fingers stiffened around Lucas’s hand, Lucas leaned back like he was enjoying a show, and Ethan felt something hot flood his chest — anger, jealousy, confusion… he couldn’t tell.
- Writer
