Chapter 115 The Name That Shouldn’t Be There
The city loomed outside Watson Tower, the skyline a jagged crown of ambition and corruption. Inside, the air was thick with tension. Ethan stood at the head of the conference table, his fingers pressed against the polished wood, his gaze locked onto the men seated before him.
Harrison Vale sat across from him, his expression unreadable, his fingers loosely curled around a glass of bourbon. Around the table, a handful of the city’s most influential figures waited, their silence a weapon of its own.
Ethan let it stretch. Control wasn’t taken with words—it was claimed in the spaces between them.
Finally, Vale took a sip of his drink, exhaled, and leaned back. “So, tell me, Watson. How exactly do you plan to bury Diana?”
A slow, knowing smirk ghosted over Ethan’s lips.
“I already have.”
Diana’s Desperation
In a dimly lit penthouse across town, Diana’s grip tightened around the edge of her desk, her nails pressing into the mahogany surface. The once-immaculate space bore signs of destruction—papers scattered, a shattered whiskey glass in the corner.
She had built a kingdom of control, of carefully placed lies and silent threats. And now it was slipping through her fingers.
Her phone vibrated against the desk. She snatched it up.
A familiar voice, low and cautious. “It’s done.”
Diana inhaled sharply. “You’re sure?”
A pause.
“Watson knew before we even moved.”
Her chest tightened. She forced her voice to stay steady. “Then fix it.”
Silence.
Then—
“He already did.”
The call ended.
Diana threw the phone against the wall.
The Press Conference
Cameras flashed, a storm of voices rising as Ethan stepped onto the stage. He adjusted his cuffs, every movement deliberate.
The weight of the moment pressed against him. This wasn’t just about winning. It was about making sure Diana never recovered.
Alea stood nearby, her posture rigid, her gaze sharp. She didn’t need to ask if he was ready. He always was.
Ethan approached the podium. The noise settled, tension crackling in the air.
He leaned into the microphone.
“Effective immediately, Watson Group is severing all ties with Diana Cross and any affiliated parties.”
A ripple of shock coursed through the crowd.
His gaze didn’t waver.
“For too long, corruption has been allowed to fester in the shadows. That ends today.”
Reporters fired questions. Ethan barely heard them.
Because in the front row, Diana stood.
And she was smiling.
The Trap No One Saw Coming
Ethan stepped off the stage, his pulse steady. Diana’s presence wasn’t a surprise.
But that smile? That was a problem.
Alea fell into step beside him. “She’s planning something.”
Luca caught up, his phone in hand. “You’re going to want to see this.”
Ethan took the phone, his gaze flicking over the screen. A leaked report.
One name stood out.
Martha Watson.
The breath in Ethan’s lungs turned to steel.
*
The name on the screen felt like a blade pressed to Ethan’s throat.
Martha Watson.
His mother.
Alea read over his shoulder, her breath hitching. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Ethan’s fingers tightened around the phone. The document was damning—a financial paper trail linking Martha to offshore accounts, suspicious transactions, and whispers of illegal deals. A fabrication. It had to be.
Diana knew where to hit. She didn’t just want to ruin Ethan—she wanted to break him.
His jaw locked. “Who leaked this?”
Luca’s expression was tight. “The sources are buried deep, but all signs point to Diana.”
Ethan exhaled through his nose. “Then we bury her deeper.”
Diana’s Play
Diana watched the storm unfold from the penthouse balcony, the city stretched beneath her like a conquered kingdom. She sipped her wine, satisfaction curling at the edges of her lips as the news spread.
Ethan had been untouchable for too long.
Now? Now, he was scrambling.
Her phone buzzed.
She answered, her voice smooth. “I assume you’ve seen the news.”
A pause. Then, Ethan’s voice, cold as steel. “This was a mistake.”
Diana tilted her head, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Oh, Ethan. We both know your mother isn’t as innocent as she seems.”
Silence.
Then, lower. “Watch your back.”
The call ended.
Diana smiled. Now it was getting interesting.
Ethan’s Response
Back at Watson Tower, Ethan paced his office, the skyline gleaming behind him. Alea stood nearby, her arms crossed. “She wants you emotional.”
Ethan’s voice was razor-sharp. “She wants me distracted.”
Luca scrolled through his laptop. “We need proof this is fake. If we don’t move fast, this sticks.”
Alea spoke carefully. “Your mother… does she know?”
Ethan’s stomach tightened. “She will soon.”
He grabbed his keys. “I’m going to see her.”
Alea reached for his arm. “Ethan—”
He turned, his eyes dark with resolve. “This ends now.”
The tires screeched against the asphalt as Ethan’s car came to a stop in front of his mother’s estate. The Watson family mansion loomed against the night sky, its cold, towering structure a reminder of the legacy he carried—a legacy now being dragged through the mud.
He stepped out, the wind biting at his skin, but his mind was elsewhere.
Martha Watson wasn’t just his mother—she was the backbone of everything he’d ever known. And now, Diana had twisted her into a pawn in this war.
Alea had tried to stop him from coming here, but Ethan didn’t care. He needed answers.
He needed to hear the truth from his mother.
The butler opened the door, his face lined with concern. “Sir, Mrs. Watson is waiting in the study.”
Ethan didn’t slow his pace as he strode down the long hallway.
The scent of aged books and burning firewood greeted him as he entered. His mother sat in her usual chair, a crystal glass of whiskey in her hand, but her expression wasn’t the one he’d grown up with.
She looked… tired. Worn.
She had seen the news.
“Ethan,” she said, her voice softer than he expected.
He didn’t sit. His muscles were too tight, his body coiled like a predator preparing to strike. “Tell me it’s a lie.”
Martha’s eyes met his, and he saw something there that unnerved him.
Hesitation.
She set her glass down. “It’s not as simple as that.”
Ethan’s heart slammed against his ribs. “That’s not an answer.”
Martha exhaled, folding her hands in her lap. “I did what I had to do to protect this family.”
The room turned cold.
“You’re telling me this is true?” His voice was deadly quiet.
Martha didn’t flinch. “What you saw is only a fraction of the picture. The accounts, the offshore investments—it was never about corruption. It was about survival.”
Ethan took a step closer, his pulse hammering. “Survival from what?”
His mother’s lips parted, but then she hesitated. As if she were choosing her words carefully. As if there was a secret buried so deep that even now, she was afraid to dig it up.
“The past.”
Ethan clenched his fists. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
Martha’s gaze softened, but there was steel beneath it. “Ethan, you think you know everything about the Watson name, but there are things even you haven’t been told. Things your father kept from you.”
Ethan stiffened. “What does this have to do with my father?”
A pause. Then, quietly: “Everything.”