Fate's Hidden Heir

3. Ethan's Indifference

Jasmine’s nerves were on edge as she arrived in Astorville, her mind replaying every unanswered call and message she'd left for Ethan Sinclair. She still couldn’t shake the shock from finding the marriage certificate—the bizarre notion that, legally, she was tied to a man she’d never met. Or, more accurately, a man who was refusing to even acknowledge her existence.

Astorville was a picturesque town, modern and sophisticated, reflecting the power and wealth of the Sinclairs. As Jasmine made her way through its streets, she couldn’t help but feel like an outsider. Everything here seemed polished, detached, as if the very air rejected anything out of place—like herself.

After a few inquiries, Jasmine finally located Sinclair Tower, a gleaming glass-and-steel building that dominated the skyline. Her heart pounded as she stepped inside, feeling the weight of judgmental eyes from the elegantly dressed employees in the lobby. She brushed aside her discomfort and approached the receptionist, asking to see Ethan Sinclair.

“Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Jasmine replied, her voice steady, though her palms were clammy. “But he’ll want to see me.”

The receptionist looked skeptical but picked up the phone, murmuring quietly. After a few tense moments, she glanced back up. “Mr. Sinclair will see you in his office on the top floor.”

Jasmine blinked, surprised. Part of her had expected him to brush her off completely. But as the elevator ascended, her pulse quickened. This was her chance to get answers, to finally confront the man responsible for the whirlwind that had uprooted her life.

When she reached his office, the doors slid open to reveal a lavish, modern space, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city. Ethan Sinclair stood behind his desk, a tall, dark-haired figure with a commanding presence. His sharp gaze swept over her, cool and impassive, and he didn’t so much as blink in recognition.

“Miss… Devereaux, is it?” His tone was detached, as if he were addressing a stranger who’d wandered in by mistake.

Jasmine felt a sting of humiliation but forced herself to stay composed. “You know exactly who I am, Mr. Sinclair. I’ve been trying to reach you for days. Don’t pretend like you don’t know why I’m here.”

Ethan’s expression remained indifferent. “I don’t have the slightest clue what you’re talking about. My time is valuable, so if you’re here with some claim on my attention, please get to the point.”

The arrogance in his voice ignited a flare of anger within her. “Get to the point?” she repeated incredulously. “Fine. Why don’t we start with this?” She pulled the marriage certificate from her bag, her hand trembling slightly as she held it up for him to see.

For the briefest moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossed his face. But just as quickly, he resumed his impassive stance. “And this is supposed to mean something to me?”

“It should,” Jasmine replied, her voice sharp. “According to this, we’re married. Legally.”

Ethan let out a soft, derisive laugh. “You’ve come all the way here to show me a piece of paper. If you expect me to fall to my knees in surprise, I’m afraid you’re wasting your time.”

Jasmine felt her cheeks flush with frustration. “You think this is funny? My life has been turned upside down because of this. I’m here because I deserve answers, Mr. Sinclair.”

He studied her in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable. “If it’s answers you’re looking for, I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong person. This so-called ‘marriage’ means nothing to me. I suggest you forget it and return to whatever small-town life you came from.”

The dismissal in his tone was like a slap in the face. Jasmine clenched her fists, fighting the urge to lash out. “I’m not some nuisance you can brush aside. My father—”

“Ah, now we get to the heart of it,” Ethan interrupted, a mocking smile playing on his lips. “This is about your father, isn’t it? The man who once believed he could align himself with Sinclair Industries. Let me save you some time, Miss Devereaux. Your father’s dealings are ancient history. Nothing he did or didn’t do will affect me—or you.”

The cold finality in his voice took her aback, momentarily leaving her speechless. She had come here hoping for answers, a way to make sense of the strange circumstances that had tied her to this man, but his callous dismissal felt like a door slamming shut in her face.

“Then why bother with the marriage certificate?” she asked, her voice quieter but laced with determination. “If it’s so meaningless, why keep me bound to it?”

Ethan’s expression turned harder. “Some things are best left unanswered, Miss Devereaux. Accept the situation for what it is—a clerical error, nothing more. Go back to your life, and I’ll go back to mine. There’s no need to complicate things.”

Her heart ached with a mixture of anger and hurt. She realized then that he had no intention of ever giving her the answers she sought. She was simply an inconvenience, a loose end he intended to ignore.

Without another word, she turned and walked out, her mind racing as she replayed the encounter in her head. His indifference stung, but it also fueled a new resolve within her. If he wouldn’t give her the answers she wanted, she would find them on her own. Whatever the truth was, she knew it lay somewhere buried within her father’s past—and she would uncover it, no matter how deep she had to dig.