Chapter 43 Chapter 43
Chapter 43
Ethan hadn’t been home for a week.
He’d been staying in his penthouse, alone as usual, working through files, drowning himself in deadlines just to keep his mind quiet.
The sun was barely out when he stepped into his Lamborghini, ready to head to Castellan Enterprise.
Halfway down the main road, four Cadillacs suddenly blocked his car from all sides. Before he could even react, two men stepped out in black suits. They didn’t say much just opened his door and motioned for him to come out.
He frowned. “What the hell is this?”
“Sir Richard’s orders, Mr. Castellan,” one of them said firmly.
Ethan’s jaw tightened. “Let me go. I said let me go.”
“Sir, please cooperate,” another guard said.
He tried to pull back, but one of them reached for his wrist. “Don’t touch me,” he warned, his voice sharp. “I’m not a damn kid. You stop holding me like a prisoner. If I wanted to go home, I would.”
The guards exchanged quick glances they knew how stubborn Ethan could get. When he resisted again, one of them brought out a handcuff and locked his wrist just enough to control him.
Ethan glared. “You really think this makes me listen?”
No one replied. They just led him to the car quietly.
The ride to the Castellan Villa was silent except for the sound of tires on asphalt. Ethan’s hand rested on his knee, tapping, his mind racing.
He hated being dragged back there back to that house that had never felt like home.
When the car finally stopped at the gates, he took a deep breath, his expression hard. The guards led him through the wide hallway until he saw him Richard Castellan, sitting on the couch, reading the morning papers like nothing had happened.
“Finally,” Richard said, not looking up. “You decided to show your face after hiding for a week.”
Ethan crossed his arms. “You didn’t have to send men like I’m some criminal.”
“I had to,” Richard said coldly. “You’ve been avoiding this family for days. The board’s asking questions, your mother is worried, and the media ”
“ You mean the media is your real concern,” Ethan cut in sharply. “Don’t use ‘family’ like it suddenly means something to you.”
Richard slammed the paper shut. “Watch your tone, Ethan. I’m still your father.”
Ethan gave a dry laugh. “Father? You only remember that word when you want something done your way.”
Upstairs, Mrs. Maria Castellan stood by the railing, quietly watching them. She didn’t speak a word she never did when they fought.
Richard stood up, glaring. “This attitude of yours will destroy everything I built! You’re acting like a child.”
“I’m acting like someone tired of being controlled,” Ethan shot back. “And for the last time, I’m not marrying Amelia.”
“Don’t start this again ”
“Don’t be fooled,” Ethan cut in, his voice rising. “Because I, Ethan Castellan, will never marry her!”
“Shut up, Ethan!” Richard snapped, his face turning red. “You think life’s a game? You’ll do as I say.”
Ethan stepped closer, eyes burning. “You can buy companies, dad. But you can’t buy people.”
The silence that followed was sharp enough to sting.
Then suddenly crash. Ethan’s hand slammed into the glass table beside him, shattering it. Shards scattered across the marble floor, blood sliding down his palm.
Maria gasped from upstairs, but Ethan didn’t flinch.
Richard took a step forward. “You still got this stupid mental habit of breaking things?” he shouted. “You never learn, do you?”
Ethan’s eyes glimmered with anger. “At least I break things, not people.”
He turned and walked out before anyone could stop him. The guards didn’t dare move. Richard just stood there, jaw tight, watching his son leave with blood trailing down his hand.
\---
By the time Ethan reached Castellan Enterprise, it was almost noon.
the front desk girl froze for a second.
She noticed the blood on his hand, but the moment his cold gaze swept past, she quickly looked away.
Two other staff coming from the hallway exchanged glances, whispering under their breath.
No one dared to stop him. No one dared to ask what happened.
He walked straight past them, his hand still bleeding, his steps calm like nothing was wrong.
Everyone minded their business. That was how it had always been.
He walked straight into the elevator and up to his office like nothing had happened. His shirt sleeve was rolled up, and his hand was still bleeding, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to bury himself in work again.
When he opened the door, Celine stood up immediately, as she always did.
“Good morning, Mr. Castellan,” she said softly.
He didn’t answer, just walked straight to his desk.
But she saw it the cut. His hand, red, streaked, and still dripping slightly. Her eyes widened.
“Sir… your hand,” she said, stepping closer.
“It’s fine,” he muttered without looking at her.
But she ignored that. She grabbed a small bowl from the side table, poured in clean water, and came closer. “Please,” she said quietly. “Just let me clean it.”
He frowned but didn’t move away. She gently took his hand, turning it toward the light. The cut was deep. Without another word, she dipped the cloth and wiped the blood off slowly.
He watched her her focus, the way she didn’t even flinch despite how bad it looked.
When she saw more blood welling up, she quickly reached for her scarf. It was a vintage one cream-colored with soft blue edges. She tore a piece off, wrapped it carefully around his palm, and tied it tight enough to stop the bleeding.
He stayed quiet the entire time.
When she finished, she realized what she’d just done and stepped back, looking nervous. “I I’m sorry, Mr. Castellan. I didn’t mean to ”
He didn’t reply. He just stared at his hand, then slowly looked at her. There was something different in his eyes not cold, not sharp, just thoughtful.
For a moment, it hit him she was the only one who had cared enough to notice.
She shifted, uneasy. “I’m sorry,” she said again, her voice small
Ethan turned away, walked toward his desk, and sat down. He opened his laptop like nothing had happened.