Chapter 64 Chapter 64
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Chapter 64
The next morning.
Celine pushed the office door open gently, as she always did.
The first thing she noticed was Ethan.
He was standing near his desk, holding a photograph in his hands, staring at it with a focus so deep it almost felt private. His brows were drawn together, his jaw tight, his attention fully locked on whatever he was looking at.
She paused for a second.
Before she could take another step, Ethan sensed her presence. His head snapped up. Their eyes met briefly.
He reacted instantly.
He folded the picture and slid it into his desk drawer, closing it as if it had never been there.
Celine didn’t ask.
She never asked him questions he didn’t offer answers to.
She adjusted her grip on her bag and walked in fully.
She was dressed in a fitted skirt suit, simple but elegant. The jacket hugged her waist neatly, the skirt falling just below her knees. Her hair was neatly packed back, her face clean and calm.
Ethan watched her without meaning to.
How does she manage to look this beautiful without trying? he thought.
“Good morning, Mr Castellan,” she said, her voice steady, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“Morning,” he replied, forcing his tone to sound flat, casual.
She walked past him to her desk at the far end of the office and settled into her seat, turning on her computer, pulling out her notepad.
Just like every other day.
Normal.
Too normal.
Ethan sat down slowly, pretending to review documents, though his mind wasn’t on any of them. His eyes drifted to her reflection on the glass surface of his desk.
She worked quietly, focused, unaware of the storm already building around her.
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His phone rang barely an hour later.
He glanced at the screen.
Mother.
He hesitated, then answered.
“You need to come home, Ethan,” Maria Castellan said. Her voice was calm, but firm in a way that told him this wasn’t a request.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“You shouldn’t be living alone anymore,” she said. “Come back to the villa. Today.”
He rubbed his temple.
“Mom—”
“This is not something we’ll discuss over the phone,” she cut in. “Come home.”
The call ended.
Ethan stared at the phone for a moment, then stood up.
“I’ll be away for a while,” he said as he walked past Celine, already reaching for his coat.
She looked up. “Okay, Mr Castellan.”
That was all.
No questions.
No concern.
And yet, something about that calm response followed him out of the office.
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The Castellan villa stood just as it always had grand, cold, unchanging.
Ethan stepped inside and immediately felt it. The heaviness. The old tension that never really left this house.
Maria met him in the sitting room.
“You shouldn’t be staying at that penthouse anymore,” she said. “It’s not good for you.”
“I’m fine,” Ethan replied, loosening his tie.
“You’re not,” she insisted. “You barely sleep. You isolate yourself.”
Before he could respond, a familiar voice joined in.
“He’s an adult, Maria. Let him live how he wants.”
Richard Castellan.
Ethan turned slowly.
“Funny,” he said coldly. “You’ve never cared about my well-being before.”
Richard scoffed. “Don’t start.”
“You started the moment you opened your mouth,” Ethan shot back.
The argument escalated quickly. Old wounds. Old words. Accusations neither of them ever healed from.
“You always run,” Richard said. “From responsibility. From people.”
“And you always blame,” Ethan replied. “It’s your specialty.”
Maria tried to step in, but it was useless.
Then Ethan’s phone rang.
He ignored it.
It rang again.
And again.
Finally, he answered.
“Sir,” a panicked voice said from the other end. “There’s a fire at the office.”
Ethan froze.
“What floor?” he asked.
“The fourth floor, sir.”
His breath caught.
The only thing that entered his mind was Celine.
He didn’t say another word. He grabbed his keys and walked out, leaving both parents standing there in shock.
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Ethan didn’t remember how he got there.
He only knew that his heart was pounding so hard it hurt.
Fire trucks crowded the front of the building. Smoke rose into the sky. Staff members stood outside, coughing, crying, shouting.
As soon as he stepped out of the car, people turned to look at him.
He ran past them.
“Sir!” someone called.
He didn’t stop.
The first floor. The second. The third.
People stared as he ran up the stairs, his footsteps loud, desperate.
By the time he reached the fourth floor, thick smoke filled the hallway.
“No one is allowed inside!” a security officer shouted.
“Where is she?” Ethan yelled back. “Why isn’t anyone saving her?”
“Sir, the fire—”
Ethan pushed past him.
He could hear coughing.
He followed the sound.
“Celine!” he shouted.
Another cough answered him.
He found the restroom door half open, flames licking the walls nearby. The doorframe was weak, unstable.
"Mr castellan?” her voice came faintly.
“I’m here,” he said firmly. “Don’t be scared.”
He kicked the door open fully just as part of it cracked and fell inward. He reached for her, pulling her away from the door as fire flared behind them.
“Trust me,” he said, gripping her tightly.
She clung to him, her body trembling.
“You’re hurt,” she whispered when she saw the burns on his arm.
“It doesn’t matter,” he replied.
He shielded her as they moved through the smoke, ignoring the pain, ignoring the heat biting into his skin.
The moment they burst out of the building, fresh air hit them both.
Celine collapsed against him.
“Call an ambulance!” someone shouted.
Sirens wailed as they were rushed to the hospital.
Ethan stayed conscious just long enough to make sure she was breathing.
Then everything blurred.
And the only thing in his mind before the darkness took him was her name.
Shame filled the air as the Castellan Enterprise staff stood helplessly below. No one went up.
No one tried. The most they did was place frantic calls to the fire
department, then waited. Minutes dragged on while smoke climbed higher. When the firefighters finally arrived, they moved too slowly, struggling to reach the fourth floor. Precious time was lost time that could have cost a life.