94| Justice

David arrived at the Sinclair estate, his pulse hammering as he drove through the towering gates.

Worry churned in his gut—not just for Ethan's safety, but for what he might do in the heat of his anger.

Ethan wasn't reckless. But when it came to Sophie?

David wasn't willing to take that chance.

As he stepped into the grand, hollow halls of the mansion, he braced himself for the worst.

But when he entered Robert Sinclair's office, he stopped short.

Ethan sat across from his father.

The air between them was thick—not with chaos, not with rage, but something else.

Something calm.

Something unnerving.

They looked... almost agreeable.

Robert, frail and slumped in his wheelchair, stared back at Ethan with an expression David couldn't quite read.

Ethan glanced up as David entered, his eyes flickering with surprise for only a moment—then understanding set in.

"She sent you, didn't she?" Ethan asked, his tone flat.

David exhaled. "Your mother was worried," he admitted carefully, his eyes darting between father and son. He hesitated. "But now that I'm here..." His words trailed off as he took in the room, noting the absence of destruction.

No shouting.

No broken glass.

No overturned furniture.

Just... calm.

Ethan leaned back in his chair, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "He didn't do it."

David's brows furrowed. "Then who?"

"Damon Blackwell."

The name hit the air like a gunshot, heavy and suffocating.

David stiffened, his breath catching in his throat.

Damon.

The name alone was enough to make his stomach turn.

Damon Blackwell wasn't just ruthless in the business world—he was dangerous, unpredictable, capable of crossing any line.

"Damon," David echoed, barely above a whisper.

Ethan turned back to his father, his voice low, laced with contempt.

"This is your fault," he said. "You're the one who brought Damon into our lives. You tied him to this family, and now Sophie is paying the price."

Robert lifted a frail hand in dismissal. "What would you know about business?" he spat, pride still sharp despite his weakened state.

Ethan's jaw tightened.

Slowly, he rose to his feet.

"Enough to know I want nothing to do with it anymore."

Silence fell.

The weight of Ethan's words sank into the room, thick and suffocating.

Robert's voice sharpened. "What are you saying?"

Ethan's gaze didn't waver. "I'm stepping down," he said simply. Unshaken. Unmovable.

"I'm leaving the business."

"I'm stepping down," Ethan said firmly, his voice unwavering. "I'm leaving the business."

Robert's face twisted in disbelief, his pale features contorting with offense. "You would abandon the company I built? The legacy I raised you to protect?"

Ethan's expression remained ice-cold.

"Exactly," he said. "Because I never had a choice. Because I was forced into it. And because you were a terrible father who put this business above everything—including your family."

The words landed like a slap, but Ethan didn't stop.

He wouldn't stop.

"So while you spend the last miserable days of your life clinging to this business," he continued, voice steady, "I want you to know that the son you tried so hard to control has abandoned the thing you loved more than your own blood."

A sharp silence followed.

David stood frozen, watching as Ethan towered over his father—his presence just as imposing as Robert's once was.

Robert scoffed, but his voice wavered. "You're a fool, Ethan. A fool to throw away what I built for you."

Ethan leaned in slightly, his voice low, venomous.

"And you're a fool to think I'll ever care."

He let the words sink in, then delivered the final blow.

"But I'll tell you this: You want to redeem even a shred of yourself? Then do the one thing you can still do for me—find out who was behind the wheel. Damon Blackwell's hitman. Get him arrested."

Robert stilled, his already frail frame seeming to shrink further.

Ethan straightened, his eyes dark with finality. "Do this, and maybe—just maybe—I won't tell my children what a miserable man you were."

A long, heavy silence followed.

Robert's face was unreadable, but something flickered in his eyes—regret, perhaps. Or shame.

Ethan didn't wait to find out.

"I don't think we'll be seeing each other again." His voice was cold, emotionless.

Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away.

David hesitated, his gaze lingering on Robert.

For a moment, he thought he saw something—a crack in the old man's armor, the faintest trace of genuine remorse.

But he shook it off.

And followed Ethan out.

The walk through the mansion felt lighter, freer—like Ethan was leaving behind more than just his father.

As they stepped into the cool evening air, David finally broke the silence.

"Are you sure about this?"

Ethan glanced at him, his expression tired but resolute. "I'm sure."

David nodded, though doubt still churned in his mind.

Because for a split second, back in that office, he thought he had seen something human in Robert Sinclair.

But if he had—Ethan hadn't.

And maybe that was for the best.

*******

Robert held up his end of the deal.

It didn't take long to track down the driver who had slammed into Sophie's van. The man had no real loyalty—just a hired pawn—and folded quickly when pressed.

Ethan never saw him face to face.

Because if he did... he wasn't sure what he would do.

His rage ran too deep. But he needed to channel it elsewhere.

Damon Blackwell must have felt it the moment Robert withdrew his support.

But that was just the beginning.

Ethan had hired a team—experts in uncovering dirt and dismantling lives—and set them loose.

If Damon had thought Ethan was just a businessman, he was about to learn otherwise.

Ethan was out for blood.

Not in the physical sense.

But in a way that would strip Damon of everything he had.

It started with his money.

Damon had spent years hoarding millions in offshore accounts, hiding his wealth behind shell companies and fake names.

Ethan froze every last one of them.

With no cash reserves, there was no escape route.

Then came his businesses.

Ethan exposed years of unpaid taxes, backdoor deals, and fraudulent activity.

The government didn't take lightly to financial crimes.

The charges started small—then they snowballed.

One by one, Damon's allies vanished, scrambling to save themselves. Investors pulled out. Partners cut ties.

And just like that—Damon Blackwell had nothing.

For all his bravado, for all his threats, Damon had never been untouchable.

He was just another greedy man who mistook power for invincibility.

And Ethan made sure he felt the weight of that miscalculation.

Yet, no matter how satisfying it was to watch Damon fall...

A heavier shadow loomed over Ethan's life.

Sophie.

It had been a week.

And she still hadn't woken up.

Ethan could still see her—the first time he was allowed in after her surgery.

The room had been too white, too sterile, too cold.

Her body was connected to machines that beeped in a quiet, steady rhythm. Tubes, wires, monitors tracking every fragile breath.

Her face—usually so full of warmth and color—looked ghostly.

He had spoken to her. Called her name softly, over and over again.

But she didn't answer.

She couldn't.

The image wouldn't leave him.

It haunted him.

He sat beside her now, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the woman he couldn't bear to lose.

His voice cracked as he whispered, "Sophie... aren't you worried about your flower shop?"

Nothing.

"About your customers?"

Silence.

"Or... or the trip we were supposed to take?"

His throat burned.

He reached for her hand, brushing his fingers over hers. Her skin was warm but lifeless, her fingers limp in his grasp.

His head dropped, his forehead nearly touching their joined hands.

"What about your mom? Lily? Mia?" His breath shook. "What about me?"

The words barely made it past his lips.

"Do you plan to leave me here? Alone?"

A deep tremor ran through him.

"With nothing but regret and guilt?"

But the machines kept beeping. The world outside kept moving. And Sophie remained silent.

Martha and Lily had taken some solace in knowing the culprit had been found.

They were grateful for Ethan's unrelenting efforts to secure justice for Sophie.

But victory meant nothing if Sophie—their anchor, their light—remained asleep.

Every day without her wore Ethan down further.

He barely recognized himself anymore.

The dark circles under his eyes betrayed the sleepless nights. Even when he closed his eyes, he couldn't rest.

Because when he did—

She was there.

Laughing, teasing him, rolling her eyes at him for being too serious.

And then he'd wake up.

And she'd still be gone.

He was exhausted—physically, emotionally, down to his bones—but sleep felt impossible.

Because if he closed his eyes for too long...

He feared he'd wake up to a world where she was truly gone.

And he couldn't bear that.

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