Chapter 3
Footsteps echoed behind her.
Charlotte turned to see Ethan walking out with a grim expression, his assistant following closely, briefing him on his afternoon schedule.
"Mr. Sinclair, you have a meeting with Grant Enterprises at three this afternoon..." the assistant said.
"Got it," Ethan cut him off, his gaze settling on Charlotte as his frown grew even deeper. "Why are you still here? Are you backing out now?"
Charlotte looked at him and broke into a smile.
Her smile was so dazzling that it stunned Ethan for a moment.
For three years, Charlotte had always been cautious around him, always putting on a polite smile, worried she'd upset him. He had never seen her smile like she'd finally let go of everything holding her back, so bright it was impossible to look away.
"Ethan," Charlotte said, waving the divorce papers with a bright grin, "guess what I regret the most right now?"
"What?" Ethan asked.
"That I didn't dump you sooner." She turned and flagged down a taxi.
"Airport, please," she said to the driver.
"Sure thing, miss. Where are you headed?" the driver asked.
"Swissera," Charlotte replied, her eyes crinkling with a bright smile as she watched Ethan's figure shrink in the rearview mirror. "I'm off to claim my inheritance."
The taxi sped off, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake.
Ethan stood there, his brows furrowed.
He didn't buy a single word Charlotte had just said.
He thought, 'Swissera? Inheritance? Seriously? She's an orphan with no family, so what could she possibly inherit?
She's saying that out of spite.
She's trying to get my attention.'
"Mr. Sinclair," the assistant asked nervously, "do you want us to check where she went?"
"No need," Ethan said coldly, striding toward his Maybach. "Someone like her won't last three days before begging me to take her back."
Ethan got into the car and instinctively glanced over at the passenger seat.
Charlotte used to sit there, always ready with warm water, his meds, and anything he could possibly need.
Now, the seat was empty.
Ethan suddenly felt restless and yanked at his tie in frustration.
"Drive," he said.
"Yes, sir," the driver replied.
The Maybach merged into the traffic and headed toward the Sinclair Holdings building.
Ethan stared out the window at the blur of passing scenery, and out of nowhere, he found himself thinking about Charlotte's last smile.
It was so light, so free.
He shook his head, forcing the thought out of his mind.
He scoffed, 'She's just playing hard to get.
Let her stay in that crappy apartment for a few days. Once she's had a taste of real hardship, she'll be begging me to take her back.
After all, it was common knowledge in Harbor City that she was madly in love with him.'
Three days later.
Sinclair Holdings' top floor, CEO's office. Ethan sat at his desk, staring at his computer screen, his expression so grim it could scare anyone.
"Mr. Sinclair," the assistant's voice trembled, "we... we can't find any trace of Miss Sterling. Her ID hasn't been used for any flight bookings or hotel stays, and even the apartment management says she never went back."
"Useless!" Ethan swept the documents off his desk. "How can a living person vanish into thin air?"
The assistant kept his head down, too scared to say a word.
Ethan's breath came in harsh bursts as he suddenly recalled the call Charlotte answered the day they split.
Ethan thought, 'Swissera. Inheritance.'
He gave a cold, mocking laugh, grabbed his phone, and dialed a number.
He said, "Track down Charlotte Sterling for me. I want every detail: where she went, who she met, and what she did these past three days.
"And," he paused, his gaze sharp and menacing, "see if anyone with the surname Sterling has been in touch with Swissera lately."
After hanging up, Ethan walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked out over the city.
Charlotte, you'd better have really disappeared,' Ethan thought to himself.
Because if I ever find you...'
Suddenly, his phone rang.
It was an unfamiliar international call from Swissera, the caller ID showed.
Ethan frowned and answered, "Hello?"
"Hello, Mr. Sinclair," a businesslike male voice came through the line, "I'm the legal counsel for the Hohenzollern Dynasty. We need to go over some terms regarding your divorce agreement with Miss Sterling."
Ethan was stunned. "What?"
"Miss Sterling has officially inherited the entire Hohenzollern Dynasty fortune, now valued at 430 billion dollars. According to your prenup, you don't owe her any alimony. But as a gesture of goodwill, Miss Sterling has decided to give you a little present."
"What kind of present?"
"Sinclair Holdings," the lawyer said, a trace of amusement in his tone. "Miss Sterling has just purchased 51% of your company's shares. Which means, legally, you now work for her."
"Mr. Sinclair," the lawyer asked politely, "could you come to Swissera tomorrow? Miss Sterling would like to discuss your future at the company.
"Specifically, your new role."
Then the line went dead.
Ethan stood there, frozen, his phone slipping from his hand and hitting the floor with a dull thud.
Outside the window, the setting sun painted the sky in blood-red hues.
He could almost hear fate mocking him.