Page 143

But not as much as Ethan’s.

The alerts, the messages, the emails, the calls—every single one carrying the same devastating news. The plane he was supposed to take to Asia tonight… crashed.

No survivors. The entire crew is gone. The crew… and Irina.

Irina—his right hand, his assistant, perhaps the only real friend he had outside his family. The person who held everything together, who made his life easier without ever asking for recognition, who always had a solution ready for every crisis, every impossible situation the company faced.

She left in his place.

She died in his place.

Because he was supposed to be on that plane. Not her.

And that thought tore through me, ripping me apart into pieces that still feel scattered across Theo’s living room.

Ethan could have died. He could have simply… ceased to exist. And all I can think is that I would rather have him hate me, rather have him look at me with disgust, rather lose him completely—so long as he’s alive.

Since the moment I found out, I haven’t been able to escape the guilt. It coils with every memory—every time I felt jealous of Irina, every moment I caught myself wishing I had that kind of closeness with him instead of her, every glance I gave her while unable to silence the thought that she had known him in ways I hadn’t.

Saying I’m sorry feels meaningless. It doesn’t even begin to cover the weight pressing against my chest. My heart aches for her—for a life so clean, so capable, so full of purpose, cut short without warning.

And it aches for the crew as well—people who died simply doing their jobs, people I had met so many times on trips, on holidays, on flights with the guys and Sierra. Warm, kind, deeply professional souls who deserved anything but an ending like this.

I keep holding my phone, unlocked for ten minutes now, Ethan’s contact open, my hand hovering just above his name.

I want to call him. To tell him I’m sorry. To explain that I truly didn’t think I was doing anything wrong, that I genuinely believed he wouldn’t care, wouldn’t even be bothered, if I went on dates, as long as I wasn’t sleeping with another man.

But the more I turn it over in my mind, the more absurd it sounds.

Because I would have cared if he went out with another woman, even if he never touched her.

But that’s because I…

No. I can’t go there. Not now. No after the way he ended whatever existed between us, right in front of everyone.

And how could I possibly disturb him now with such a trivial subject, when his world is most likely at one of its lowest points?

I lean my head back and let my gaze drift toward the dressing room. On the vanity table rests a small black velvet box, tied with a white ribbon.

My birthday gift from Ethan.

I see it every day, yet I’ve never opened it. Why? I don’t have a clear answer. Maybe I’m afraid it’s an expensive but hollow gesture, bought in haste just to check the box. Or maybe I’m afraid it’s too extravagant, too far removed from who I am.

I’m sure he’s used to buying women lavish gifts. They’ve just never felt like they belong to me.

With a quiet sigh, I push the blanket aside and walk into the dressing room.

I stop in front of the vanity, bracing myself against it with both hands, letting my weight sink into the polished surface as I steady my breathing.

My eyes lift to my reflection first. They’re red and swollen from crying, my gaze hollow, my expression weighed down by guilt, heartbreak… pain, threaded through every line of my face.

And all of it leads to Ethan.

I don’t feel hurt when it comes to my parents anymore. Not even surprise. Nothing about this chaos shocks me—they’ve done far worse. Only this time, they aimed higher, at people more powerful, and I have no doubt they’ll face the consequences.

I’m certain they’re behind the accusations that surfaced in the press. I’m certain they sold those stories for money, turning private lives into headlines without a second thought.

And still, I said nothing. Not to protect them, but because I couldn’t bring myself to reopen that humiliating subject now, not while the guys are shattered.