Chapter 79 Chapter 79
Chapter 79
Amelia sat across from her father in the study, legs crossed tight, fingers curled around a glass of bourbon she hadn’t bothered to sip. The ice had melted into a thin puddle at the bottom.
Drake studied her the way he always did when she showed up unannounced—quiet, patient, reading every line on her face like yesterday’s stock report.
“You’re too quiet,” he said after a minute. “That’s never good.”
She gave a short, dry laugh. “If I open my mouth right now, Dad, I might say something ugly.”
He lifted one brow. “Go ahead. I’ve heard ugly before.”
She met his eyes. “Ethan.”
The name dropped like a coin in an empty jar.
Drake didn’t flinch. He just nodded once, slow. “Talk.”
“I think he’s got someone else.” Her voice came out flat, matter-of-fact. “Not a guess. A feeling. And I’m never wrong about feelings like this.”
He leaned forward a little, elbows on the desk. “You sure, or just hurt?”
“I don’t know her name yet. Don’t have a picture. But he’s different. Won’t meet my eyes. Dodges calls. Shuts conversations down before they start. That’s not the Ethan I know.”
Drake rubbed his jaw. “You two were never exactly stable.”
“We were real,” she shot back. Then quieter, “Or I thought we were.”
He let the silence sit for a second. “There was that photo in the magazine. The woman. Close. Too close.”
“He didn’t even fight me on it,” she said. “Didn’t explain. Just went cold. That’s louder than any denial.”
Drake exhaled through his nose. “You’re jumping to conclusions.”
“No. I’m connecting dots. And I don’t miss dots.”
He watched her another beat. “Ethan Castellan isn’t the type you chase down. If he’s stepping back, cornering him will only make him run faster.”
“I’m not cornering him.” Her voice sharpened. “I’m getting the truth. Then I decide.”
“And if the truth is there’s another woman?”
Amelia’s mouth curved, but it wasn’t a smile. “Then I find out exactly who she is and what she thinks she’s winning.”
“That road eats people, sweetheart.”
“Love always does.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m not scared of the road.”
Drake leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. For a long moment he didn’t speak. Then he did, voice low and steady.
“You know I’ve never liked how he handled you. Hot one day, gone the next. Left you hanging too many times. But I also know something else.” He paused, eyes locked on hers. “Ethan looks at you like you’re the only thing in the room that matters. Even when he’s trying to pretend otherwise. That kind of look doesn’t just disappear.”
Amelia blinked once, surprised.
“I want him for you,” Drake said plainly. “Always have. He’s sharp. He’s tough. He doesn’t fold under pressure. And the way he used to watch you walk into a room? That’s not something you throw away for a fling. Whatever this is—new girl, distraction, mid-life bullshit—it’s not permanent. Not with you in the picture.”
She swallowed. “You really believe that?”
“I believe he’s scared,” Drake said. “Men like Ethan don’t do scared well. They push instead. But push too hard and he’ll bolt for good. You want him back? Don’t chase. Remind him why he can’t breathe without you in his orbit.”
Amelia stared at the untouched drink. “And if he’s already chosen her?”
“Then you make sure he knows exactly what he’s giving up.” Drake’s tone hardened. “You’re my daughter. You don’t lose. And you sure as hell don’t lose to someone who doesn’t even know the history she’s stepping into.”
A small, real smile tugged at her lips this time. “You’re telling me to fight dirty.”
“I’m telling you to fight smart.” He pointed one finger at her. “Get the information. Know your opponent. Then show him the difference between temporary and forever. Because you and Ethan? That’s forever material. I’ve seen it. He’s seen it. He’s just forgotten for five minutes.”
She nodded slowly. “I needed to hear that.”
“Good. Because I’m not watching you tear yourself apart over some nobody.” He stood, rounded the desk, and pulled her into a quick, hard hug. “You’ve got my blessing. Whatever it takes. Bring him home.”
Amelia squeezed him back, then stepped away. “I will.”
She walked out of the study with her spine straighter than when she’d walked in.
\---
Later that night she sat cross-legged on her bed, bedroom dark except for the blue glow from her phone. The hurt girl from earlier was gone. This version of Amelia didn’t cry. She calculated.
The call rang twice before he picked up.
“Yeah?” A rough male voice, cautious.
“Richard Hale. Bad time?”
A beat. “Amelia Drake. Jesus. Been a minute.”
“Way too long.” She kept her tone smooth, friendly. “Heard you’re out of Monterey.”
“Canada now. Castellan branch. Short-term gig.”
“Perfect.”
He gave a wary laugh. “What do you need, Amelia?”
“Information.”
“I don’t work directly for him anymore.”
“I know. That’s why you’re the one I’m calling.”
More silence.
“There’s a woman,” she said. “New. Quiet. Not from the usual crowd. I want her name.”
Richard let out a long breath. “You know I can’t—”
“Twenty-five thousand,” she cut in.
He went quiet.
“I’m not in the inner circle,” he said finally. “I do logistics. Schedules. Paperwork. I see him maybe once a week.”
“Thirty-five,” she answered. “And if this blows back on you, I’ll get you a better spot somewhere else. Better pay. Better hours. You name the city.”
Another pause.
“This is dangerous,” he muttered.
“I know.”
He sighed. “I can’t promise fast. But I can watch. Listen. People talk.”
“That’s enough.”
“She’s at the company?” he asked.
“Close enough that he’s willing to burn bridges.”
Richard swore under his breath. “Alright. I’ll poke around. Discreet.”
“When can I expect something?”
“Give me a few days. Maybe sooner if I’m lucky.”
“Call me the second you have a name.”
She hung up without waiting for goodbye.
Amelia set the phone on the nightstand and stood. Walked to the full-length mirror in the corner. She stared at her reflection—hair loose, eyes steady, mouth set in a calm line.
She tilted her head, practiced the smile she’d use when she finally met this woman. Soft. Polite. Deadly.
“Whoever you are,” she said to the mirror, voice barely above a whisper, “you picked
the wrong man to borrow.”
She turned off the light and got into bed.
Tomorrow she’d start moving pieces.
Ethan wasn’t gone.
Not even close.