(Ethan's POV)
I paused in the hallway, my heart picking up a rhythm I hadn't felt in weeks. The house felt larger than usual, hollow in the absence of her presence, echoing back my own footsteps like a judgment. Every move I made reminded me that the boardrooms, the strategies, the titles—they meant nothing here. Nothing at all. I was just a man. And standing before her door, I felt it: unarmed, unshielded, exposed.
I took a deep breath and knocked again, softer this time.
"Mira," I said, the name slipping past my lips like a fragile confession. "It's me."
I heard the soft shuffle on the other side, the slight inhale, the quiet pause that stretched too long. She could have turned away. She could have ignored me entirely. But the door cracked open, just a sliver. Her eyes met mine, steady, unyielding, assessing. No smile. No warmth. Not yet. Just that measured gaze that could dismantle empires.
"Ethan," she said, calm, her voice low but precise. Not cold—just deliberate. A test.
