the god who hid as a husband

Chapter 5: When Control Starts to Slip

Ethan Pov

The next morning felt different, not because anything changed in the house but because people inside it had changed.

I noticed it immediately when I walked into the living room. Nina was already awake and she wasn’t dressed for work like usual. Instead, she sat on the couch with her phone in her hand, staring at it like it might explain everything if she looked long enough.

Her mother was speaking quietly on the side, and her uncle was pacing around, frustrated.

Kelvin was not there yet, that alone said a lot. Then I walked past them without speaking and went to the kitchen and no one stopped me, no one insulted me, that silence was new.

I started preparing breakfast as usual but I could feel it, the tension. It was heavy in the air like something had broken, but no one wanted to admit it.

Behind me, Nina’s voice finally broke the silence.

“Still not stable,” she said.

Her tone was lower than before, less sharp, more tired.

Her mother sighed. “This is not normal. A company like ours doesn’t just collapse like this.”

Her uncle replied, “We need external experts, not Kelvin alone.”

I kept working, eggs in the pan, bread on the table, tea boils slowly, normal things, simple things but their world was anything but normal now.

I placed the food on the table, no one moved to eat immediately, that was new too.

Nina finally stood up and walked toward me. She stopped a few steps away and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t speak with anger.

She spoke with confusion.

“Are you sure you don’t know anything about this?” she asked.

I looked at her then answered honestly.

“I already told you.”

She studied my face like she was trying to find something hidden, something she missed before but she found nothing because I wasn’t hiding, not anymore.

She exhaled slowly and walked away. By afternoon, the situation had gotten worse. I didn’t need updates to know that because the house itself told me everything.

Phone calls coming in and out with raised voices and fast footsteps. Kelvin finally arrived again, looking less confident than before. He walked in quickly and immediately started talking.

“I’ve contacted two more consultants,” he said.

“We should be able to restore partial systems.”

Nina nodded quickly, clinging to his words.

“Good,” she said. “Just fix it.”

But I noticed something, his voice was not as steady as before, his hands moved more than usual and his eyes avoided direct contact sometimes.

Fear doesn’t always shout, sometimes it hides in small things. I leaned against the wall quietly and watched.

Kelvin continued making calls then stopped then started again then stopped again. Each time, his face became more tense. Finally, he lowered the phone.

“I… I think we are dealing with something more serious,” he admitted. Nina turned to him.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He hesitated. That hesitation was enough.

“I mean… this isn’t a normal system issue,” he said slowly.

“It feels like… access has been restricted from the core level.”

Her uncle frowned.

“Restricted by who?”

Kelvin shook his head. “I don’t know.”

That was the first time he said those words. I don’t know

Nina stepped back slightly, her confidence cracked again.

“Fix it,” she said again, but this time her voice wasn’t strong instead It was desperate.

Kelvin nodded quickly. “I’m trying.”

But I already knew he wasn’t because there was nothing he could do, not anymore.

Later that evening, something happened. A call came into the house phone then Nina picked it up.

“Hello?” she said.

I watched her from the kitchen then her expression changed immediately.

“What?” she asked.

“That’s impossible,” she said louder now. Then her hand dropped slightly.

She ended the call slowly. For a moment, she just stood there then she turned toward Kelvin.

“They suspended the entire operations division,” she said.

Kelvin froze.

“What?” he asked.

“They said…” she paused, struggling to believe her own words, “…they said someone with higher authority shut everything down.”

Silence filled the room.

Her mother looked shocked, her uncle stopped moving, even Kelvin’s face went pale.

“That’s not possible,” he said quickly. “No one has that level of control except—” He stopped.

Mid-sentence, he didn’t finish but I already knew what he was going to say. His eyes slowly moved toward me just for a second then away again.

Nina followed his gaze and for the first time… She looked at me differently, not angry, not hate but something else, something closer to uncertainty.

That night, the house was unusually quiet. Even Kelvin left early, no confidence left in his steps, no smile left on his face, just silence.

Nina stayed behind in the living room long after everyone had gone to their rooms.

I came down later for water and she was still there, sitting and thinking. When she saw me, she didn’t speak immediately then she did.

“Ethan,” she said.

I stopped.

“Yes?”

She looked at me carefully.

“Tell me something.”

I waited.

Her voice lowered.

“Do you know who is doing this?”

The room became still, I could hear the clock ticking and I could hear her breathing slow and uneven.

I walked to the counter and poured myself a glass of water then I replied.

“Yes.”

Her eyes widened slightly.

“You do?” she asked quickly.

I took a sip then placed the glass down.

“Yes,” I said again.

Silence stretched, she stepped closer.

“Then who?” she asked.

I looked at her, really looked at her and for the first time in a long time… She looked afraid. Not of me but of the answer.

I could have told her everything right there but I didn’t, Instead, I said softly:

“You’re asking the wrong question.”

She frowned. “What does that mean?”

I turned away and started walking.

“The question isn’t who is doing it,” I said.

I stopped at the stairs.

It’s—

“Why it was allowed to happen in the first place.”

I continued walking up.

Behind me, she didn’t speak again.

For once… She had nothing to say.

In my room, I closed the door. Sixteen days had now become fifteen and the system outside continued to break slowly and quietly and she was only now beginning to see the edge of the truth but it was already too late to stop it.