Chapter 89 Chapter 89
Chapter 89
Amelia pushed open the heavy door to her father’s study without knocking. The room smelled like old leather, cigar smoke that had faded years ago, and the sharp tang of Drake’s favorite red. He sat behind the wide desk, tablet in one hand, wine glass in the other. The wall behind him was a gallery of framed deals, handshakes with men whose names still carried weight, photos of the family at events where everyone wore expensive smiles.
She closed the door behind her. The click sounded final.
Drake didn’t look up right away. “You see this?” He tapped the screen. “Castellan’s latest play. Infrastructure bond. Billions of naira locked in over fifteen years. Multiplies quiet. Steady. That’s not just cash flow that’s leverage. Seats at tables nobody else gets invited to.”
Amelia stepped closer. She rested one hip against the edge of the desk, arms crossed loose. She pretended to read the numbers scrolling past. Her eyes were on him, though
watching the way his mouth curved when he talked about power.
“I remember,” she said. “You were the one who put them on the map. Without your money, without your introductions, they’d still be scraping by in some mid-tier office park. You built that name.”
Drake gave a short laugh. “I helped. They did the rest. But yeah. Old ties still mean something.” He set the tablet down. Took a slow sip of wine. “Which is why I called you in here.”
She tilted her head. “I figured it wasn’t about the weather.”
“Ethan Castellan.” Drake set the glass on a coaster with a soft clink. “I want you to marry him.”
The words landed clean. No surprise. She’d been waiting for them longer than he knew.
Amelia let a slow smile spread. Not wide. Just enough. “Yes.”
Drake raised one brow. “You don’t sound shocked.”
“I’m not.” She pushed off the desk, walked a slow half-circle behind his chair. “I’ve wanted him for years. Not the soft way. Not the hearts-and-flowers way. The real way. Him under my hand. Him listening when I speak. Him choosing me because he has no better option.”
Drake turned his head to follow her. “This isn’t romance, Amelia. You know that.”
“I know exactly what it is.” She stopped behind him, hands resting light on the back of his chair. “It’s ownership. Influence. Making sure every decision he makes runs through me first. Making sure no one else ever gets close enough to whisper in his ear. That’s what I want. That’s what I’ve always wanted.”
He studied her face for a long second. Then he nodded once. “Good. I raised you to see the board, not just the pieces. Ethan’s strong. Untouchable to most people. But not to you. Not with what we have. Old favors. Shared history. My name still opens doors for him. Use it.”
Amelia’s fingers tightened just slightly on the leather. “I’ve been watching him. Every day. Every meeting he takes. I know his routines better than he does. I know what makes him pause. What makes him angry. What makes him soften for half a second before he shuts it down.”
“And the girl in his office?”
Amelia’s jaw flexed. “She’s nothing. A temp distraction. Someone he talks to because she’s there. She doesn’t know him. She doesn’t understand what he needs. She’s replaceable. I’m not.”
“You sound sure.”
“I am sure.” Her voice dropped lower. “I love him, Dad. But not the weak kind of love. The kind that says mine and means it forever. The kind that doesn’t let go. The kind that builds walls so high no one else can climb over. He walked away once. Thought he could leave the past behind. He can’t. Not when I’m still here. Not whe
n I know every crack in his armor.”
Drake leaned back. “He doesn’t know you’re this deep in it.”
“That’s the point.” She came around to the front of the desk again. Met his eyes straight. “He thinks he’s free. He thinks the choices are still his. They’re not. Not anymore. I’ve been patient. I’ve waited. I’ve collected every detail. Every weakness. Every routine. When the time comes, he’ll wake up and realize the path he’s on was laid out by me. And he’ll walk it because he won’t see another one.”
Drake’s mouth curved. Not quite a smile. More approval. “You’ve got the stomach for it. Most people don’t.”
“I do.” She straightened. “I’ve pictured it a thousand times. Him coming home to me. Him asking my opinion first. Him turning away from anyone who isn’t me. Him understanding that I’m the only one who sees the whole picture. The only one who can keep him safe. Keep him on top. Keep him his best self—because I decide what that looks like.”
“You make it sound like a job.”
“It is a job.” She shrugged one shoulder. “A lifetime job. And I’m qualified. I’ve studied him like a map. I know where the turns are. Where the dead ends hide. Where he’s vulnerable. I’ll guide him. Gently at first. Then firmer. Until he thinks every good decision was his idea. Until he can’t imagine doing it any other way.”
Drake lifted his glass a fraction. “Patience is your edge. Don’t lose it.”
“I won’t.” Her eyes narrowed.
Drake nodded slow. “Good. Keep it that way. Emotion without discipline is useless. You need cold edges.”
“I have them.” She stepped back. “I’ll move careful. Observe more. Wait for the opening. When it comes, I’ll take it clean. No mess. No witnesses. Just results. Ethan will end up exactly where he belongs. Beside me. Under my influence. Mine to steer.”
Drake set the glass down. “Then go do it. Plan. Watch. Strike when the moment’s right. The advantage is yours. Don’t waste it on anger. Waste it on strategy.”
Amelia gave one sharp nod. “I won’t waste anything.”
She turned toward the door. Heels clicking again. Each step measured.
Outside the study she paused in the hallway. Pressed her back to the wall for just a second. Closed her eyes. Let herself feel it—the rush, the certainty, the sharp bright need that lived under her ribs.
Ethan.
She loved him. God, she did. But love like hers didn’t ask permission. It didn’t wait to be invited. It took space. It reshaped the room until there was only one chair left. His. And she was already sitting in it.
She opened her eyes. Pushed off the wall. Walked down the corridor toward her own rooms.
The future wasn’t co
ming.
She was building it.
One calculated step at a time.
And Ethan Castellan was going to live in it.
Whether he wanted to or not.