“Good.”
She blinked. “What?”
“You left,” he repeated. “That was the right move.”
Something about hearing that from him loosened the tight knot in her chest.
“But it’s not over,” she said.
“No,” Ethan agreed. “It’s not.”
She turned toward the window, wrapping her arms around herself.
“He won’t let this go.”
Ethan rose and stood near her, close enough to be present, far enough not to crowd her.
“Then we don’t let him control what happens next,” he said.
She looked at him. “We?”
He met her gaze. “You think I came all this way just to listen and leave?”
Later, after strategy gave way to quiet, Amara asked him the question she had been avoiding.
“Why are you really here, Ethan?”
He held her gaze for a long moment, then told her the truth.
“Because I never stopped caring about you.”
The words landed softly, but with weight.
“I’m not asking for anything,” he added quickly. “I’m not here to complicate your life. I just couldn’t ignore this.”
Amara looked at him and saw not only the man standing before her, but the boy he used to be—the one who stayed late to help her study, remembered small things, and never asked for more than she could give.
Something fragile and real opened between them.
The next morning, the attack began.
Major business partners started pulling out. Contracts stalled. Investors hesitated. Senior staff resigned without warning.
Tund was moving.
