Chapter 99 CHAPTER 99
The Garden of Love
The night in Tokyo was still young, but Ethan’s penthouse looked as if it had swallowed a decade of rage.
Half drunk whiskey sat abandoned on the marble counter, a slow drip sliding down the bottle’s neck. The air was heavy with cigar smoke, silence, and the faint pulse of the city far below.
Ethan sat in the dark, his suit jacket tossed aside, his white shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. The skyline leaked through the curtains in pale gold streaks, crossing his face like fractured light. His jaw was set tight as he stared into the tumbler in his hand, the amber liquid trembling slightly with every shallow breath.
Across from him, Ayisha laid on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, pretending to scroll through her phone though her eyes never left him.
“You’ll hurt yourself if you keep drinking like that,” she said quietly.
He didn’t look up. “I don’t care.”
Her gaze softened, but her tone didn’t. “That won’t change what happened.”
Ethan gave a hollow laugh. “Someone betrayed me, Ayisha. Someone handed them information. Those kids didn’t just vanish. They were released.”
Ayisha stood, smoothing her robe as she moved toward him. The scent of jasmine followed her. “Then stop drinking and find out who did it,” she said softly. “Anger won’t bring answers any faster.”
Ethan’s eyes shot up, dark and sharp. “You talk like you didn’t have a hand in it.”
Ayisha froze for a beat, then smiled faintly. “You’re drunk.”
“Maybe,” he said, swirling the glass, “or maybe I’ve learned not to trust anyone. There were only two of us.”
She exhaled slowly and turned to the window, Tokyo’s neon glow painting her reflection in shifting colors. “You think too much. The war isn’t over, Ethan. If we couldn’t break Ares and Tessa through their children, we’ll find another way. Pain always has more doors. We just need to find the next one.”
Ethan drained his glass. “You make hell sound easy.”
Ayisha’s reflection smiled faintly. “And you forget I have unfinished business with Tessa.”
He said nothing after that, just sat in silence, a man who once thought power could protect him from heartbreak, now realizing it never could.
The small restaurant where Chloe used to work sat on the edge of an old Tokyo street, wedged between a bookstore and a flower shop. The air inside carried the scent of grilled beef, soy sauce, and steamed rice. Conversations rose and fell beneath the hum of a tired ceiling fan.
At the counter, a waitress whispered to another as they cleaned up after the dinner rush.
“Did you hear the news?” she asked, eyes glinting.
The older cook looked up from wiping the grill. “About who?”
“Chloe,” she said, lowering her voice. “The American girl who used to work here. They say she’s back with her ex husband.”
The other waitress blinked. “You mean the billionaire?”
She nodded eagerly. “Ares Langford. The one whose children had that huge birthday party last week. That’s where they found out Chloe was using trying to live a different life.”
The kitchen went silent for a moment.
The cook finally let out a long whistle. “Back with a billionaire. Some women are built for drama.”
The waitress smirked. “Apparently, she’s pregnant too.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. And the kids’ mother, Tessa, is living there as well.”
The cook shook her head. “That’s a storm waiting to happen.”
They all laughed softly, but behind the laughter was that quiet, familiar ache, envy disguised as amusement. The kind that lived in people who worked twelve-hour shifts and dreamed with their eyes open.
Meanwhile, Ares mansion on the edge of Tokyo Bay was unusually quiet.
Ares had dismissed most of the staff for the night. The children were asleep. Julian had gone for a drive with Chloe to clear his mind.
In the garden, the world was gentler.
The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of wisteria and rain soaked earth. The fairy lights, leftovers from the weekend party for the kids, shimmered along the hedge walls, their soft glow flickering over marble and stone.
Tessa sat on the edge of the fountain, her phone glowing dimly in her hands.
She had just sent a message to Ayisha: Let’s end this. I’m sorry. Let’s make peace. I send you half of everything I took.
It showed “Delivered,” but not “Read.”
Tessa locked the phone and placed it beside her. Her hands covered her face.
She tried to hold the tears back, but they came anyway, slow, unrelenting. They weren’t just for Ayisha. They were for everything she had lost.
For the years that had disappeared into captivity.
For the children she couldn’t protect.
For the nights she survived by pretending she wasn’t alive.
Her body remembered too much, the smell of sweat, the echo of footsteps before pain. Seven years of being kidnapped, of trying to forget who she was.
Now, she couldn’t forget. Chloe tricked her to leave her kids and when she wanted to go back, she set her up to be kidnapped. Seven years in that kidnapper’s camp, being raped every night.
How could she forgive Chloe for everything? She couldn’t even graduate nursing school. She was blinded by anger and revenge that she destroyed her beauty line with Ayisha.
The garden whispered around her. At least Ares was trying to make things right…his fountain, this light. She hadn’t believed in peace back then.
Now, she craved it.
Her sobs quieted. The ache remained.
“Where do I even start?” she whispered.
Footsteps sounded behind her.
Ares walked out from the house, his shirt sleeves rolled, the night breeze lifting his hair slightly. His face was calm, but his eyes carried the exhaustion of a man who had fought too many wars.
He didn’t speak right away. He just sat beside her.
For a long time, they both stared at the fountain. The light rippled over the water, catching on their faces like fragile reflections.
“Hey,” he said finally.
Tessa nodded. “She hasn’t replied.”
“She will,” he murmured. “Maybe not tonight. But she will.”
“You still believe in change?” she asked softly.
“I believe in time,” he said. “Time changes everything.”
She gave a weak smile. “You sound so sure.”
“I’m not,” he admitted. “But I want to be.”
Tessa brushed a tear from her cheek. “I sent her the rest of the money. Thanks for giving me the money. I really needed it off my conscience.”
He nodded. “That’s good. It’s a start.”
She laughed, the sound thin and trembling. “You make it sound easy. But I’m a woman who’s lost almost everything. My education. My business. My identity. My children. I spent seven years in a place where I didn’t even have a name. And now I’m supposed to start over? Forgive Chloe?”
Ares didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out and placed a steady hand on her back.
“You don’t have to start over,” he said gently. “You just have to keep going.”
She closed her eyes and leaned into him. His warmth felt real, solid in a world that had taken too much from her.
He let her cry, his thumb tracing soft, absent-minded circles against her arm. The night air moved around them, quiet and forgiving.
After a while, she whispered, “What if I fail again?”
“Then we’ll try again,” he said. “Until we don’t.”
Her voice broke. “You still want to try with me, after everything?”
His eyes found hers, calm, tired, and full of something fragile. “We both went through hell, Tessa. But somehow, we made it back. Maybe that means we’re supposed to try again. And I approached you first, I brought you into my messy world. I was childish and a coward…”
The wind shifted, brushing their faces. The fairy lights flickered softly.
She drew in a trembling breath. “You think we can make it work?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I want to find out.”
Her lips parted slightly. “You mean…”
“I mean a real chance,” he said. “See if love can survive what we did to it.”
Something was glowing in her eyes, not quite belief, but something close.
“I’m open to trying,” she whispered.
He pulled her closer, his arm around her shoulders. “Then that’s enough for tonight.”
They sat like that in silence, two survivors under the soft Tokyo night, learning how to breathe again. The fountain whispered beside them.