After Ethan healed her, she didn' t want Ethan, she wanted Chad.
Chad had supposedly died heroically, deep in the Amazon, searching for a mythical plant to cure her.
Bree, consumed by her twisted grief for Chad, had then forced Ethan to try and revive him.
She didn' t care that Chad was already dead, truly dead.
Ethan, drained of too much blood in the futile attempt, had died right there, unmourned by Bree, who only had eyes for her lost Chad.
Only after Ethan' s death did the real story of Chad emerge, no heroic sacrifice, no Amazonian plant.
Chad Kensington had been murdered by the jealous husband of an older, wealthy woman he was having an affair with, a woman he turned to when he realized the Vanderbilt fortune wouldn't be his through Bree if she remained paralyzed.
Ethan had died for nothing, for a woman who mourned a cheat and a liar.
He woke with a gasp, the sterile scent of his family' s hidden clinic sharp in his nostrils.
It was the day, the exact day Eleanor Vanderbilt was scheduled to bring her paralyzed daughter, Bree, for his assessment.
He remembered everything, the betrayal, the pain, his pointless death.
The door opened, and Eleanor Vanderbilt entered, regal and anxious, pushing a wheelchair.
In it sat Bree, beautiful, sullen, her legs still and useless.
Eleanor began her plea, her voice tight with hope, "Mr. Miller, we were told you might..."
Ethan cut her off, his voice flat, devoid of the warmth he' d shown them in his past life.
"No."
Bree' s head snapped up, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows arching in disbelief, then anger.
"What did you just say, no?"
Her voice was sharp, entitled.
Ethan looked directly into Bree' s eyes, his own gaze chillingly empty.
"I said no, your daughter's legs are permanently damaged, there is nothing I, or anyone else, can do for them."
He delivered the words like a judge passing a final sentence.
Bree scoffed, a harsh, ugly sound.
"Permanently damaged? Do you even know who we are? My mother will pay you anything."
Eleanor Vanderbilt paled, her composure cracking. "Mr. Miller, please, money is no object."
Ethan let out a short, humorless laugh.
"Money can't fix everything, Mrs. Vanderbilt, some things are just broken beyond repair."
He thought of Chad, of Bree's obsession, of his own wasted life.
Bree' s face contorted with rage, she grabbed a nearby porcelain vase, a priceless antique, and hurled it against the wall.
It shattered with a deafening crash, shards flying across the polished floor.
"How dare you! You will heal me, you quack!"
Eleanor rushed to her daughter' s side, trying to calm her, her voice trembling.
"Bree, darling, please! Mr. Miller, I apologize for my daughter's outburst, she's just... distraught."
Ethan waved a dismissive hand, his eyes still locked on Bree.
"Distraught, or just a spoiled brat who can' t accept reality? It makes no difference to me."
He turned to leave, his decision absolute.
"Mr. Miller, wait!" Eleanor cried out, her voice cracking with desperation. "Please, I beg you, reconsider, we' ll give you anything you ask for, anything!"
Ethan paused at the door, not turning back.
He remembered the truth about Chad Kensington, the sordid affair, the murder, the lies Bree had swallowed whole, the lies that had cost him his life.
"I told you," Ethan said, his voice low and final, "there's nothing I can do for her, my previous life' s debt to your family, whatever it was, is paid in full with this refusal."
He had saved her once, and it had killed him. Never again.
"I don't believe you!" Bree shrieked from her wheelchair, her face flushed. "You' re just incompetent! Chad will find a cure, he' s getting a rare Amazonian plant, he' ll save me!"
Eleanor wrung her hands, tears streaming down her face. "Bree, please, Chad... we don' t even know if that plant exists."
Bree glared at her mother. "He will, Mother, he will! He loves me!"
Ethan took one last look at Bree, her face a mask of delusion and fury, then he walked out of the room, leaving mother and daughter to their shattered hopes.
As he stepped into the quiet hallway, a woman rushed towards him, her face etched with anxiety.
It was Linda Chen, matriarch of the Chen family, a rival dynasty to the Vanderbilts.
She fell to her knees before him, her voice choked with tears.
"Mr. Miller, please, you have to help my daughter, Sarah, she' s in a coma, the doctors say there' s no hope."
Sarah Chen, Bree's rival, injured in the same accident that had paralyzed Bree. In his past life, Sarah had remained in that coma.
Ethan looked down at Linda Chen, his heart a cold stone. The trauma of his past life, the exhaustion of his rebirth, the fresh confrontation with Bree, it was too much.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice flat. "I can't help anyone right now." He needed to protect himself, his gift. He couldn't afford another fatal mistake.