Ethan's POV
By the time I pulled into the driveway of my parents' estate, the fury had curdled into something heavier. Not weaker—just quieter. The kind of anger that stops shouting and starts planning.
The lights were on in the main hall. Of course they were. I could hear voices through the door before I even reached it—my mother's clipped, anxious tone, my father's low murmur trying to calm her. I braced myself and walked in.
My mother turned the moment she saw me, her pearls catching the chandelier light, her face already arranged into the particular blend of worry and control she reserved for crises involving the family name.
"Ethan. Finally." She crossed the room in quick steps. "Where have you been? Do you have any idea how many calls I've fielded today?"
"I had things to take c
