Chapter 60
George
I woke earlier than usual this morning, my old bones somehow more energetic at the prospect of what today might bring. The first rays of dawn were just breaking through the curtains of my Upper East Side apartment when I noticed a solitary figure on the terrace.
Ethan. My ever-composed, ever-calculating grandson had spent the entire night outside, staring into nothing. His usually impeccable appearance was disheveled - hair tousled by the night breeze, yesterday's shirt wrinkled from sitting in one position too long. The sight almost made me chuckle.
I shook my head with amusement. This cold, self-possessed young man who had built an empire on Wall Street was actually lovesick, though he'd rather die than admit it. The infamous Ethan Black, brought to his knees by a doctor with green eyes and a stubborn streak to match his own.
Perfect.
I took my time selecting my favorite Brooks Brothers suit—the navy one with subtle pinstripes. As I adjusted my cufflinks, I mentally rehearsed my approach. Pushing Ethan had always been like navigating a minefield - too much pressure and he'd shut down completely.
A knock interrupted my thoughts.
"Mr. Black," Parker said, his expression carefully neutral. "Ethan has been sitting on the terrace all night. He looks... unwell."
I fought to keep my satisfaction from showing. "I see. Prepare breakfast, will you? I believe we'll have quite an interesting morning."
I deliberately slowed my pace as I approached the terrace, observing my grandson from the corner of my eye. The Wall Street titan looked utterly defeated, his shoulders slumped in a way I hadn't seen since he was a boy. In his hand, he clutched something small that caught the morning light - Amelia's wedding ring.
"Ethan?" I feigned surprise as I stepped onto the terrace. "You're still here? I thought you'd gone back to your apartment to handle those important 'investment files.'"
His head snapped up, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, a mixture of confusion and anger flashing across his face.
"Grandfather," his voice was hoarse. "You had lawyers send her divorce papers?"
I kept my expression deliberately casual. "Oh, that. Come have breakfast, and we'll discuss it."
I settled at the breakfast table with practiced elegance, unfolding my napkin with deliberate movements while mentally assessing my grandson's emotional state. He looked worse than I'd anticipated - the doctor had affected him far more deeply than I'd imagined.
"I simply thought," I began, buttering my toast with careful precision, "that since you've been so busy lately, there was no need to continue this marriage of convenience. Wasn't that what you called it? A temporary arrangement?"
"We had a three-month contract!" He practically shouted, something Ethan Black never did. "How could you send divorce papers without even telling me?"
'Finally losing that famous control, are we?' I suppressed a smile. 'I bet on the right horse after all.'
I maintained my nonchalant facade. "I thought you'd be grateful for your freedom. Isn't this the perfect opportunity to pursue things with Miss Randal?"
"There is no 'Ashley and me'!" Ethan's fist hit the table, rattling the silverware. "That was just a business meeting! Grandfather, how could you make such a major decision without consulting me first?"
'Ah, so the doctor carries more weight than I thought.'
I kept my expression neutral while inwardly celebrating. "Then explain why you didn't have your PR team handle those photos of you and Ashley? Weren't you trying to give her some legitimacy?"
Ethan opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly struggling to formulate a response that wouldn't reveal his true feelings.
I pressed my advantage. "You're free now, Ethan. You can date any socialite you want." I paused deliberately, watching his reaction closely. "Or is it possible that you've developed genuine feelings for the doctor and don't want to let her go?"
His expression shifted through several emotions - denial, confusion, frustration - faster than he could control them. But his words remained stubborn.
"I... I haven't... It's just that the contract hasn't expired yet..."
I almost laughed at his pathetic attempt to rationalize his feelings. The great Ethan Black, who could negotiate billion-dollar deals without breaking a sweat, couldn't even be honest with himself about his feelings for a woman.
He abruptly stood up. "Grandfather, I need to get to the office!"
I watched him practically flee from the table, allowing myself a small smile as he disappeared. Even in his haste, I noticed he had pocketed Amelia's wedding ring.
After Ethan left, I relaxed into my chair and savored my breakfast, feeling quite pleased with myself. The eggs were perfectly poached, the coffee strong just as I liked it, and my little scheme was progressing beautifully.
Parker approached, his expression concerned. "Mr. Black, are you sure about this? Letting them separate? Miss Amelia seems like a wonderful young woman."
I sighed, setting down my coffee cup. "That boy is too stubborn for his own good. All his life, he's hidden behind that cold exterior, never allowing himself to acknowledge his feelings, even when they're staring him in the face."
"If you support their relationship, why arrange the divorce papers?" Parker looked genuinely confused.
I couldn't help the mischievous glint that entered my eyes. "Sometimes, Parker, people need to lose something to truly understand its value. If I hadn't done this, how would Ethan ever confront his feelings? Even the most brilliant businessman has his blind spots when it comes to matters of the heart."
Parker's face cleared with understanding. "Ah, I see. You're forcing his hand."
"Precisely." I took another sip of my coffee. "Young people sometimes need a little... nudge in the right direction."
I glanced toward the door Ethan had practically run through moments before. My grandson was a brilliant man, but utterly hopeless when it came to his own happiness. William had entrusted his granddaughter to me, and I intended to fulfill that promise - even if it meant manipulating my own grandson a bit.
After all, what are grandfathers for, if not to meddle in affairs of the heart?