Chapter 3 - The Titanium Bond
Ethan slowly sank onto the edge of the hotel bed. He buried his face in his hands, his broad shoulders shaking silently. The man who commanded global markets and terrified rival CEOs was completely broken, mourning the two and a half years of first steps, midnight feedings, and quiet moments that his own mother had stolen from him.
I didn't stay standing by the door. I walked over and sat on the bed beside him. Leo, sensing the shift in the room's energy, babbled softly and reached a small, chubby hand out, wrapping his fingers around the fabric of Ethan’s expensive suit jacket.
Ethan lifted his head, looking at his son through tear-filled eyes. He reached out with a trembling hand, gently brushing his thumb across Leo’s soft cheek. Leo smiled, his bright green eyes—the undeniable Blackwood eyes—crinkling at the corners.
"I am so sorry, Sarah," Ethan whispered, his voice thick with agony. "I am so incredibly sorry. I should have driven to your apartment. I should have kicked the door down and demanded you tell me it was over to my face. I should have fought harder."
"We were both manipulated by a woman with infinite resources, Ethan," I said softly, refusing to let him carry the entire burden of Margaret's sociopathy. "She used my pride against me, and she used your loyalty against you. But she didn't win."
Ethan looked at me, a profound, desperate hope igniting in his eyes. "I don't expect you to forgive me tonight. I don't expect you to let me just walk back into your life. But I swear to you on my soul, Sarah, I will spend the rest of my life proving that I am worthy of being this boy's father. I will tear my own empire apart to keep you both safe."
"I don't need you to tear it apart, Ethan," I corrected him smoothly, the fierce, uncompromising strength of a mother hardening my spine into titanium. For two years, I had built a highly successful architectural design firm from the ground up, entirely on my own. I wasn't a charity case. I was a force of nature. "I need you to hand it to me so I can burn Margaret's side of it to the ground."
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A slow, predatory smile touched Ethan’s lips. The grief was still there, but it had been instantly weaponized.
"Then let's go burn it down," he said.
