My Husband's Father Wants Me

12

And for three years, I watched from the sidelines as Ethan treated a masterpiece like a piece of glass.

Three years later, I was still watching the same woman suffer in a marriage she never deserved.

I watched my foolish, arrogant son treat her as an afterthought, neglecting her, dismissing her brilliant mind, and eventually bringing another woman into their lives.

My restraint began to fracture. I watched her suffer in silence, her light slowly being extinguished by a boy who didn't deserve to breathe the same air as her.

So, I intervened.

I didn't steal her—Ethan threw her away.

I simply planted the seeds to wake her up. It was my orchestration that ended the charity gala three hours early yesterday evening, ensuring Arabella would return home unexpectedly.

It was my influence that ensured she caught Ethan red-handed with his mistress.

I had waited five agonizing years in the shadows, watching her grow into a resilient, fiercely intelligent, breathtaking woman.

I refused to watch her be destroyed by my son any longer.

I closed the encrypted phone and tossed it back into the drawer, locking it away.

In her eyes, I was a sudden, overwhelming force—a man making an absurd, possessive demand on the heels of her ruined marriage.

She was scared. She didn't trust me.

She must think I'm setting a trap, that I would use her vulnerability to control her just as Ethan and her father had done.

She doesn't realize that every dime of that $100,000 transfer came from a man who would gladly burn his entire empire to the ground just to keep her safe.

I stood up, stepping toward the floor-to-ceiling glass window and looking out over the sprawling city skyline below.

Five years ago, I walked away because I believed it was the honorable thing to do.

I believed I was protecting a nineteen-year-old girl from a man too old, too powerful, and too dangerous for her.

I was wrong. Leaving her exposed to men like Ethan was the greatest mistake of my life.

Ethan was the one who let her go. He was the one who broke his vows, discarded her dignity, and walked away.

I wasn't innocent. I knew exactly what I was doing.

I did it because I wanted her.

But Ethan had been destroying that marriage long before I gave fate a little push—and even if the world branded me as a villain, I no longer cared.

Arabella was a grown woman now. She was free from Ethan, free from her past, and fully capable of making her own choices.

I lost her once to my own cowardice. I'm not walking away again.

I pulled my personal phone from my inner suit pocket and dialed Irene's number. Irene was Ethan's head housekeeper—and my quietly placed eyes and ears inside my son's household to ensure Arabella's safety.

She picked up on the very first ring, clearly awaiting my call.

"Any updates?" I demanded straightforwardly. "Have you uncovered what took place in the study after she returned last night?"

"No, Mr. Sterling," Irene reported, her voice low and careful. "I attempted to enter the study under the guise of cleaning, but the young master kept the room locked and kept the key on himself."

My eyes narrowed. Whatever it was Ethan had said behind those locked doors must have been devastating.

Arabella had spent months preparing those renderings for the upcoming International Jewelry Competition; I knew better than anyone what those designs meant to her.

She wouldn't have parted with them on a whim.

"Understood," I hummed quietly. "Keep close watch on the estate. The moment she returns, notify me immediately."

"Of course, sir."

I ended the call and tapped my fingers rhythmically against the cool glass window, reviewing the timeline in my head.

Why the sudden, desperate demand for a hundred thousand dollars in cash?

Her explanation about ‘gaining financial independence before the divorce’ was complete bullshit.

She was hiding something—something urgent enough to force her hand.

‘What did I miss yesterday?’

She caught Ethan cheating. She fled to the club. I followed her, pulled her out of that situation, and then...

‘The hospital.’

"Damn it," I muttered under my breath, realization striking me like a physical blow. "How could I have overlooked that?"

Yesterday, when she begged me to leave her at the hospital entrance, I had stepped back.

I didn't want to come across as overly domineering or pushy while her world was collapsing around her.

I had driven her there myself without my usual security detail, giving her space to breathe.

I hadn't even assigned my men to watch her in secret.

When she refused my presence, I simply waited in the sedan for a few minutes, watched her step into the hospital elevator, and drove away.

I'd wanted to respect the space she'd demanded, even if every instinct in me screamed to stay.

But now, hours later, the pieces were finally falling into place.

The hundred thousand dollars.

The hospital.

Her sudden decision to sell the designs she'd spent months creating. She was hiding something.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Jake, my head of security and personal shadow guard.

“Jake, where are you?”

“I'm in the company lobby, Boss.”

A brief silence followed. Then I heard him add, “Actually, I just spotted Miss Morgan stepping into a taxi.”

“Follow her.”

"Sir?" Jake sounded caught off guard.

"Do not lose sight of her," I commanded, my tone leaving zero room for argument. "And ensure you remain entirely discreet."

"What about your security detail, Boss?" Jake's voice filled with immediate concern. "I am required to stay within arm's reach of you at all times. Yesterday was already a massive risk. If your rivals realize you're moving without protection—"

"Say one more word, Jake, and consider your salary forfeited for the month."

A brief pause sounded over the line before Jake answered crisply, "I am directly behind her cab right now, sir. I won't lose her."

"Good."

I disconnected the call and slid the phone back into my pocket, staring out over the sprawling city.

‘Forgive me, Arabella,’ I thought, a quiet resolve settling deep in my chest. ‘But I need to know what you're hiding to protect you from it.’