Chapter 7

"Done talking yet? If you're done, shut up already. My ears are ringing-I can't even watch the news in peace." Mr. Shaw, sitting alone on the couch, suddenly spoke up and tapped his cane on the floor twice with a loud "thud thud." Sophie shot Grace a sharp look. Grace instantly went silent. "Got it, Grandpa." Mr. Shaw only had one son, Edward Shaw-Sophie's husband and Ethan's father-who'd flown to Farond a month ago for business. So right now, the family was basically under the old man's management. He was a retired official, after all. Still carried that old-school discipline about him. The finance channel was playing, talking about how the Goodwin Group had been officially taken over by Oliver. The tragic accident that killed the couple from the Goodwin family had been ruled a car crash. And their daughter, Isabella, was also listed among the deceased. Celeste stared at the TV, eyes fixed and glassy, her fists clenched as tears crept quietly down her cheeks. Upstairs at the villa's second-floor landing, a man in a wheelchair was quietly observing everything going on downstairs, his gaze intense. There was no denying it-Celeste had changed. A lot. The whole day passed and she still hadn't seen Ethan. The man was always coming and going like a ghost, who knew what he was up to. Late that night, loud crashes and metallic clanks rang from the room next to hers. It even sounded like a wheelchair had tipped over. Celeste, a light sleeper to begin with, shot up in bed and groaned, dragging her hands through her messy hair. She tried to ignore it, pulled the covers over her head-but no luck. The noise just wouldn't stop. With a sigh, she finally slipped on her slippers and padded over to the next room. She knocked a few times, but no one answered. ‘What if something bad happened?' The thought jolted her fully awake. Without another thought, she pushed the door open-and instantly froze. Ethan was lying on the floor beside the bed. Next to him, a young woman dressed way too sexy for this hour was kneeling nervously, stammering, "I'm really sorry, sir, I didn't mean to... if you're upset, I won't come again..." "...Did I, uh... interrupt something?" Celeste asked cautiously, but didn't move an inch. Ethan's face had gone completely dark, especially now that someone he clearly couldn't ignore was standing at the door. "Get out!" he barked. "Yes... sorry, I'm leaving now..." the girl mumbled, head down, and darted past Celeste, not even properly dressed. As she passed, she muttered a timid, "Good evening, Mrs. Shaw." Celeste blinked, confused. What the heck just happened? "This woman..." The thought barely formed before she felt a cold, cutting glare slice her way. "You done staring?" Ethan asked, voice sharp as ever. "Yeah, all done," she blurted. "Then get out," he snapped. "Right..." Seriously, did this guy only know how to say that one line? Celeste reached for the door and started to close it, ready to leave. "Wait." His voice rang out again from behind her-low and unreadable.