My Little Bride

Chapter 6: The Secret in the Shadows

Ethan stayed completely silent, his gray eyes locking onto his grandmother's searching gaze. The ticking of his watch felt incredibly heavy in the quiet night air. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he gave a slow, rigid nod.

"I have to," Ethan murmured, his voice cracking slightly before it instantly hardened back into stone.

Before Catherine could press him any further or dismantle his defenses, Ethan stood up to his full height, effectively ending the conversation. "You should rest, Grandmother. It is past midnight. In the morning, the driver will take you back to the main estate."

Without waiting for her reply, Ethan turned on his heel and strode down the long, dimly lit hallway. He didn't return to the master bedroom where Vivienne was sleeping. Instead, he walked straight into his private, high-security study, slamming the heavy, soundproof door shut behind him.

He walked over to his massive mahogany desk and picked up his phone, immediately speed-dialing Marcus. On the other end, his personal assistant was sleeping peacefully until the aggressive vibration of his phone woke him up in a panic.

"M-Mr. Thorne?" Marcus stammered, his voice thick with sleep.

"I want a complete background check," Ethan commanded coldly, his tone leaving zero room for negotiation. "Find out everything there is to know about my little bride. Her family, her past, her connections—everything. I want it on my desk tomorrow morning."

"Sir, it's past midnight—" Marcus started, but the line went completely dead. Ethan had already disconnected the call.

Ethan threw the phone onto the desk. He stood in the center of the dark, shadow-filled study, his chest heaving under his white dress shirt. The name Vivienne was echoing inside his head like a siren, pulling up a storm of emotions he had spent years locking away.

Slowly, Ethan walked over to the massive, ceiling-high wooden bookshelf lining the back wall. He reached out, his long fingers pressing a hidden lever concealed behind a leather-bound volume. With a soft, mechanical click, the entire heavy bookshelf slowly pivoted inward, revealing a hidden electronic door that slid open silently.

Ethan stepped inside, the door automatically closing behind him, sealing him into a private, secret room that no one else in the world knew existed.

The room was completely immaculate, covered from floor to ceiling in framed photographs and stunning oil portraits of a breathtakingly beautiful lady with soft features and piercing, deep blue eyes. Ethan walked deeper into the shadow-filled sanctuary, his long fingers trailing gently over the antique belongings left on the vanity table.

Touching a silver hairbrush here and an antique jewelry box there. As he moved through the shadows, a sudden flood of memories crashed into his mind—the warmth of her smile, the sound of her laughter, and the bleeding trauma of the day she was torn away from him. The sudden flood of intense, raw memories crashed into his mind—memories that burned with a deep, unspoken pain.

He stopped in front of the largest portrait in the center of the wall. He stared into the painted blue eyes of the mysterious lady, his rugged, handsome face softening into a look of raw vulnerability that he never showed to the living world.

"Did you see my little bride?" Ethan whispered into the heavy silence of the room, his voice trembling slightly as he reached out, his thumb gently tracing the painted cheek on the canvas.

His eyes darkened with an intense, suffocating emotion as he stared at the striking resemblance.

"She has blue eyes..." Ethan murmured, his voice dropping into a dangerous, low whisper. "...just like yours."

He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the cool frame. "I miss you..."

Suddenly, the sharp, shrill ring of his phone shattered the silence, echoing inside the hidden room. Ethan’s eyes snapped open. In a fraction of a second, the vulnerability vanished. The warmth died out, replaced instantly by his cold, lethal boss aura. He pulled the phone from his pocket, stepping out of the secret room as the bookshelf slid locked behind him.

He answered the call, his voice dripping with authority. "Speak. What did you find out about her?"

On the other end, Marcus was typing frantically. "Not much yet, sir. Her records are highly guarded, but I am pulling her family's financial logs right now. I will have the complete report ready for you first thing in the morning. Actually, sir... I called to ask if I should cancel your meetings for tomorrow?"

Ethan’s brow furrowed. "Why would you cancel my meetings?"

"Well... you just got married tonight, sir," Marcus explained cautiously. "I assumed you wouldn't be coming to the corporate office for a few days to spend time with the bride..."

"Don't pressure your brain too much with assumptions, Marcus," Ethan cut his assistant off, his tone completely unyielding. "I will be there exactly on time. Just keep the file ready on my desk."

He hung up the phone without waiting for a reply and strode back into the master wing, entering the private bathroom connected to his suite to finally wash off the dirt and chaos of the night.

Turning the handle completely to the right, a rush of steaming hot water cascaded down from the massive rainfall shower head, instantly filling the luxury marble space with thick, rolling clouds of white mist. Ethan stripped out of his clothes and stepped beneath the spray.

The hot water drenched his dark hair, plastering it against his forehead as he leaned his palms flat against the black marble wall, letting the water wash over him. The steam highlighted the jaw-dropping, hyper-athletic aesthetics of his physique. He possessed a beautifully buff, sculpted body—his chest was incredibly broad and chiseled, leading down to a rock-solid, razor-sharp six-pack of washboard abs and powerful, lean obliques. Every muscle in his wide shoulders and heavily defined back flexed with immense strength as he moved beneath the water, his physique embodying pure, unadulterated alpha dominance.

He stood under the water for a long time, letting the heat soothe his tense muscles, before finally shutting off the valve.

Dripping wet from the steaming rainfall shower, Ethan wrapped a dark towel loosely around his low waist. He didn't bother drying his hair, letting the warm water droplets soak his dark locks. Stepping back into the dim, shadow-filled master bedroom, he walked quietly toward the massive king-size bed.

Instead of walking into his dressing room to change, Ethan stopped at the edge of the mattress.

He stood frozen in the dark, watching his little bride, the silence of the room heavier than ever.

He slowly sat down on the plush cushion, his towering frame casting a massive shadow over the sleeping girl.

As he sat there in the quiet night, the water from his damp hair began to drip slowly, a single stray bead sliding down the sharp column of his neck. It glided effortlessly through the chiseled contours of his collarbone, tracing a path down his broad, muscular chest. It tasted the hard, defined lines of his washboard abs, moving lower and lower, dying with a slow thirst as it finally disappeared into his navel. The moonlight streaming through the sheer balcony curtains highlighted every single curve of his sculpted, hyper-athletic physique. He looked like a dark god carved out of marble, dangerous yet undeniably captivating.

Ethan’s piercing gray eyes drifted down to the tiny girl buried beneath his heavy duvet. She looked impossibly delicate, still wrapped in his oversized black tuxedo jacket, her long eyelashes casting soft shadows on her pale cheeks.

Without even realizing what he was doing, Ethan reached out his large, scarred hand. His long fingers moved with a sudden, uncharacteristic gentleness, slowly tucking a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. His fingertips brushed against her soft skin, her innocence acting like a magnet against his cold world.

He leaned down slightly, staring into her peaceful face as the silver moonlight washed over them both.

"Who are you, little bride?" Ethan whispered into the heavy silence of the room, his gravelly voice dropping into a low, private murmur.

Unconsciously, his thumb stroked the soft line of her cheek.

At the sudden warmth of his touch, Vivienne stirred silently in her sleep. Her head tilted slightly, her lips parting as she let out a soft, ragged breath, shifting her weight against the plush pillows.

Ethan’s hand instantly froze. A sudden, sharp spike of pure panic shot through his chest. The ruthless, untouchable billionaire tycoon—a man who didn't flinch when a wooden cane struck his shin or when a multi-billion-dollar merger collapsed—felt his heart leap into his throat at the mere thought of her opening her blue eyes and catching him staring.

He rapidly pulled his hand back, his posture locking into absolute stiffness in the dark as he waited to see if she would wake up.

"Soon I will find out who you are?" he said, staring at her soft features under the glowing moonlight.