Chapter 4

I stared at him, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

"Was any of it real, Ethan?"

My voice trembled.

"Our dates? The nights we spent together? When you said you loved me?"

I needed to know.

Even if the truth destroyed what little was left of me.

"Did you feel anything? Or was I just... a job?"

Ethan's jaw tightened.

He looked away, towards the Wall of Honor.

For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something in his eyes.

Pain? Regret?

Or was it just my desperate imagination?

Then he turned and walked away.

Without a word.

Leaving me standing there, alone with my unanswered questions and a heart that felt like lead.

His silence was an answer in itself.

A cruel, definitive one.

My mind flashed back.

The year I spent chasing him.

Ethan Cole.

The handsome, enigmatic financial analyst who seemed immune to my charms.

I'd been a naive art history student then, used to getting what I wanted.

He was a challenge.

I pursued him relentlessly.

"Accidental" coffee shop encounters.

Tickets to his favorite band.

Learning about obscure financial markets just to have something to talk to him about.

He was always polite, always distant.

But I was persistent. Passionate.

I thought my devotion would eventually win him over.

Then came the night at the waterfront.

We were walking by the pier after a charity auction I'd dragged him to.

Suddenly, a black car screeched to a halt beside us.

Two men jumped out, guns glinting in the dim light.

They weren't after me.

They were after Ethan.

"Give us the package, Cole!" one of them snarled.

Ethan shoved me behind him.

"Run, Maya!"

But I was frozen.

One of the men lunged at Ethan with a knife.

Instinct took over.

I pushed Ethan aside, stepping into the path of the blade.

Searing pain shot up my arm.

I screamed.

Ethan roared, a sound I'd never heard from him.

He moved with a speed and brutality that stunned me.

In seconds, both men were down, groaning.

He whirled back to me, his face pale.

Blood was gushing from a deep gash on my forearm.

The world started to spin.

"Maya! Damn it, what were you thinking?"

He was kneeling beside me, his voice rough with a strange mix of anger and... concern?

He ripped a strip from his expensive shirt, tying it tightly around my arm.

His touch was surprisingly gentle.

"You idiot," he muttered, but his eyes were frantic.

"Why didn't you run?"

I looked up at him, dizzy from pain and blood loss.

But a crazy hope bloomed in my chest.

He was worried about me.

He cared.

"Do you... do you like me even a little bit, Ethan?" I whispered, my voice weak.

The pain was immense, but all I could focus on was his face.

His expression was unreadable.

He stared at me for a long moment, the sound of lapping water and distant sirens filling the silence.

Then, he sighed, a deep, weary sound.

"You're impossible, Maya Rodriguez."

He shook his head, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips.

"Yes, Maya," he said, his voice softer now.

"Against my better judgment, I think I might."

He paused, then added, "Let's try. Let's try being... us."

My heart soared.

The pain in my arm forgotten.

He'd said yes.

My dream had come true.

"But Maya," he said, his gaze suddenly serious, intense.

"If you ever regret this, if you ever regret being with me..."

He hesitated, then continued, "I'll grant you one request. Anything you ask."

A strange promise.

But I was too deliriously happy to question it.

I laughed, a giddy, shaky sound.

"Regret you, Ethan? Never."

I had no idea how wrong I was.

No idea that this charming man was a phantom.

No idea that his promise would come back to haunt me in the cruelest way possible.

My naivety was a weapon he would use against me.