Chapter 95 Chapter 95
Chapter 95
After Amelia walked out of Castellan Enterprise between those four guards, Ethan didn’t make a scene. He didn’t call an all-staff meeting or send out a company-wide email. He just started moving pieces quietly, the way he always did when something felt off.
The fourth floor changed without anyone saying it out loud. Doors that used to stay propped open now clicked shut more often. Conversations in the hallway dropped lower. The coffee machine got used less because people lingered less. Ethan made sure of it.
That next morning he stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass in his office, pretending to read emails on his screen while his eyes tracked the corridor in the reflection. Celine sat at her station twenty feet away, typing steadily, headphones in, completely focused on the spreadsheet in front of her. She had no idea the air around her had thickened overnight.
Ethan reached for the desk phone and pressed the internal line.
“Security desk,” a voice answered.
“It’s Ethan. Starting today, log every single person who steps onto four. Full name, reason for visit, time in, time out. No exceptions.”
A short pause. “Even internal staff, sir?”
“Especially internal staff,” Ethan said. “And I want the logs sent to me at end of day.”
“Understood.”
He hung up. A minute later he typed a quick note to operations—short, no explanation needed. Add one more body to the rotation near the executive suites. Plain clothes if possible. Positioned at the stairwell end of the hall. Visible but not in the way.
No one asked why. They just did it.
Celine glanced up once while he was still staring out. Caught his eye. Pulled one earbud out.
“You good, sir?” she asked, casual.
“Yeah,” he said. Too fast. Then he cleared his throat. “Just going over numbers.”
She gave a small nod and went back to her screen.
They kept it like that all day. Professional distance. Short exchanges. Nothing extra. But Ethan’s attention kept sliding toward her desk—every time someone walked past, every time the elevator dinged, every time a shadow moved in the hallway.
Late afternoon he picked up a folder he didn’t need and walked over to her station. Stood there a second before speaking.
“Celine.”
She looked up. “Yes, sir?”
He held the file between them like a shield. “About the new role. There are a couple of… standard things that come with it.”
She waited.
“Company car service,” he said. “And security detail when you’re coming and going.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Security?”
“It’s routine,” he said. “For anyone handling higher-level files. The company pays for it.”
Celine leaned back in her chair a little. “I’ve never had that before.”
“It’s new policy,” he lied smoothly. “For certain positions.”
She studied him. “I can manage on my own. I always have.”
“I know,” Ethan said. “But this isn’t about what you can do. It’s about what we cover.”
She didn’t look convinced. “It feels like special treatment.”
“It’s not,” he said, even though they both knew it was. “It’s protocol.”
Celine exhaled through her nose. “I’ll think about it.”
Ethan nodded once. “There’ll be a driver downstairs at six today. Black SUV. Company plates.”
“I usually grab a cab,” she said.
“Today, take the car,” he said. Then quieter: “Please.”
The please came out softer than he meant. Almost raw.
The word slipped out before he could stop it.
Celine glanced at him, surprised.. “Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll take it.”
Did Ethan castellan just say please ?
That was all he needed.
He went back to his office and closed the door. Sat down. Rubbed his face with both hands.
That evening he skipped the penthouse and drove straight to Dr. Lui’s building instead. The therapist’s office was on the eighth floor of a quiet professional tower—neutral walls, soft lighting, no music in the waiting room. Ethan arrived ten minutes early and sat with his elbows on his knees until the door opened.
Inside, he took the usual chair. Dr. Lui settled across from him, notepad on his lap but pen still capped.
“She came to the office,” Ethan started.
“Amelia.”
“Yeah.”
Dr. Lui waited.
“She got past reception. Made it to my floor. Security had to walk her out.”
“And how did that feel?” Dr. Lui asked.
Ethan’s jaw worked. “Like she was testing. Seeing how far she could push before I pushed back.”
Dr. Lui nodded slowly. “What’s the bigger worry?”
“That she still thinks certain things belong to her,” Ethan said. “People. Rooms. Me. And now there’s someone else in the picture. Someone who doesn’t deserve to be collateral.”
Dr. Lui tilted his head. “Celine.”
Ethan didn’t deny it. “She’s close. Too close.”
“You haven’t told her anything about Amelia.”
“No.”
“But you’re already changing things around her.”
Ethan looked at his hands. “I can’t not.”
Dr. Lui stayed quiet for a beat. “You sound scared.”
“I am,” Ethan said without hesitation. “Not for me.”
The older man leaned forward slightly. “That’s a shift.”
“Maybe.”
“You’re protecting someone without explaining why.”
“I don’t want to scare her,” Ethan said. “She doesn’t need that on her plate.”
Dr. Lui nodded. “And yet you’re rearranging your world to keep her safe.”
Ethan didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the carpet between his shoes.
“It’s awareness,” Dr. Lui said eventually. “You see the risk. You’re acting on it.”
“She’s dangerous,” Ethan said low. “Amelia doesn’t bluff. She plans.”
“Then staying vigilant is smart,” Dr. Lui replied. “You’re doing what you can with what you know.”
Ethan left the session feeling steadier, but the knot in his gut hadn’t loosened. He drove home through evening traffic, windows down, letting the salt air from the bay hit his face.
At the penthouse he didn’t turn on many lights. Just dropped his keys on the console table and walked straight to the living-room window. City spread out below—cars crawling, lights steady. He pulled his phone out, thumb hovering over Celine’s contact.
He didn’t call.
Didn’t text.
Just stood there, watching the lights move.
One thing sat clear in his head.
Amelia could try whatever she wanted—show up, push doors, whisper stories to his father.
But she wasn’t getting near Celine.
Not while he was still breathing.
He slipped the phone back in his pocket and turned
away from the window.
Tomorrow he’d add another layer. Another check. Another quiet step.
Because that was how you kept someone safe.
One careful move at a time.