Chapter 58 Love Aside
The words landed like a slap. Margarete blinked, stunned. Not fit? What did that even mean? She stared at him, confused, hoping for him to explain. But he didn't.
Instead, Max stood and adjusted his suit jacket. "Your flight to Spain has been booked," he said coldly. "You can go and cool off there for some time."
Then he turned and walked out of the room, leaving a silence heavier than before.
Leave? Her seven-month-old baby? Margarete couldn't believe what she was hearing. Outrage surged through her. She rose to her feet, trembling with anger.
Her father stepped forward, trying to calm her. "Margarete, listen to me," he said gently but firmly. "You need to follow Max's rules. You knew what this marriage meant. If you fight this, you could lose everything."
She shook her head, eyes wide. "He's my child!"
"I know," Elton said quietly. "But if you resist... you'll never see Ethan again. You'll be cut off from the family, from the name, from the life you've built. But if you agree if you do what Max asks you can still be near Ethan. You'll still be his mother."
Margarete stood frozen, unable to process it all. She was young. Naive. She didn't fully understand the depth of what she was allowing to happen, the power she was giving up, the control she was surrendering.
In Max's mind, Jonathan's softness, his gullibility, emotional fragility was all his mother's fault. He had resented Juliet for years because of how their son had turned out. Max had always been too busy building the empire, too consumed with power and legacy to be a father. Juliet had stepped in as Jonathan's sole caregiver, and in Max's eyes, she had ruined him.
She had coddled him, pampered him, made him too gentle for the world Max had built. But Max also understood why she did it Juliet had struggled for years to conceive. After multiple losses and failed attempts, Jonathan had finally come, her miracle child. Naturally, she poured everything into him.
But Max saw it differently. To him, Juliet's presence had weakened Jonathan. He would not allow that mistake to be repeated.
This time, with Ethan, he would control everything. He would shape the boy into a leader from the beginning. No soft hands. No emotional indulgence. He needed an heir who was strong, strategic, and untouchable. And in Max's mind, too much of a mother's influence, too much comfort and warmth was a liability.
This time, the heir would be raised the Sinclair way.
And Ethan was raised exactly that way.
He wasn't nurtured like a child, he was molded like a tool. From the very beginning, Max instilled in him a superior mindset. Ethan was taught that he was above others not just in name, but in purpose. He was told, repeatedly, that leadership wasn't a privilege, it was his destiny. That others existed to be led by him.
From a young age, Ethan was placed in roles and situations that forced him to take charge, to dominate, to never show weakness. Max didn't allow softness. He didn't want another Jonathan. He wanted power, cold and unyielding.
Max had seen how ruthless and devious the business world truly was, and he knew: if his heir was weak, everything he'd built would fall into another man's hands. That was a reality Max would never accept.
So he trained Ethan like a soldier disciplined, sharp, and emotionally controlled. There was no room for childishness, no space for vulnerability. Running the Sinclair empire wasn't just a responsibility; it was a war Max had spent a lifetime fighting. And now, he was building his weapon.
Margarete still tried her best to stay close to Ethan. She did what she could, she stood at the edges of his life. But it was never enough. Anytime she got too close, anytime she showed him too much love or tenderness, she would be abruptly flown off to another country. Max always had a reason, there were endless events to attend, another appearance to make, always in Jonathan's name. Sometimes she didn't even know where she was going until she got there. Sometimes she was gone for months.
She realized, painfully, that if she wanted even the smallest access to Ethan, she had to abide by Max's rules. And they were cruel. Cold. Designed to keep her at a distance.
She cried often on birthdays she wasn't allowed to attend, when she couldn't plan a party or even call to say happy birthday. She wasn't allowed to mother him. Only to exist near him, occasionally, silently.
Then she fell pregnant again and gave birth to Sophie.
At first, she was terrified Sophie would be taken away too. But Max didn't even blink. He had what he wanted: Ethan. He had no use for Sophie.
So he left her alone.
And Sophie became Margarete's solace. Her comfort. Her reason to keep going. In Sophie, she poured every ounce of love, warmth, and gentleness she had been forced to hold back from Ethan. She finally had something that was hers.
Years passed, and now Ethan was the one avoiding her.
To him, Margarete was just a distant figure present at times, but never really there. He had no idea how hard she had tried, how often she had been kept away. In his eyes, she had simply chosen absence.
What he didn't know was that she had always been watching from the sidelines. Quietly protecting him in the only ways she could.
She had discovered his secret car collection, something he had poured his passion into, something truly his. She knew if Max ever found out, he'd strip it away without hesitation. So she made sure he didn't. She kept his secret safe, quietly intervening when anyone came too close. She couldn't be his mother the way she wanted, but she could be his guardian in the shadows.
Still, it never seemed like enough. Her efforts were invisible. Insignificant. Max had full control over Ethan's life, his schedule, his education, his beliefs, even his identity.
Jonathan, Ethan's father, had almost no say at all. His illness had kept him distant, and his gentle nature made him irrelevant in Max's world. Then, when Ethan was just four shortly after Sophie was born Jonathan passed away quietly.
Ethan barely reacted.
He had grown up under Max's shadow. That was the man he knew, the one who shaped him. Jonathan had been more of a name than a presence. And when he died, it barely left a mark.
But for Margarete, the loss was heavy, another piece of herself gone, another reminder that she was utterly alone in a life she never truly chose.
And now, even with Max gone, she still couldn't reach Ethan.
The chains were broken, but the distance remained. He was a man now cold, self-assured, untouchable shaped by years of control and silence. Margarete sat alone, staring out the window, as memories came flooding back. All the moments she had missed. All the birthdays, the milestones, the quiet chances to simply be his mother.
She had done everything she could from the sidelines, but none of it mattered now. The years had built a wall between them. One love alone couldn't break.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, unrestrained, and she made no effort to stop them. There was nothing left to hold back. She let it all out, all the pain that had accumulated in her chest for years, she cried them all out.