Ethan looked toward the guests.
That was his weakness.
Appearance.
Always appearance.
He wanted privacy only when truth became inconvenient.
“Can we speak upstairs?”
Sophia stared at him.
Then slowly removed her wedding ring.
Gasps moved through the ballroom.
Ethan whispered,
“Don’t be dramatic.”
Wrong words.
Spectacularly wrong.
Sophia’s expression hardened.
“Dramatic?”
“Sophia.”
“You brought your ex-wife here to humiliate her.”
“That’s not—”
“You called the mother of your child trash.”
“I was joking.”
“You hid income.”
“You don’t understand—”
“My voice is on that recording.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“I asked whether it was illegal!”
“No one is blaming you.”
She laughed.
“You are unbelievable.”
Then she handed him the ring.
Not threw.
Not dropped.
Placed.
That was colder.
“I need air.”
“Sophia, we just got married.”
She looked him directly in the face.
“No.”
Her eyes filled.
“We had a wedding.”
Then she walked away.
Ethan followed.
Robert Grant blocked him.
“Give her space.”
“You stay out of my marriage.”
Robert leaned close.
“You should have said that before involving my daughter in hiding assets from yours.”
Ethan stopped.
The room changed.
People who had admired him fifteen minutes earlier were now studying him like evidence.
Charles Mercer approached again.
“Ethan, we have an issue.”
“No, Charles. I have a vindictive ex-wife.”
“You discussed firm compensation on that recording.”
Ethan’s jaw clenched.
“You don’t know context.”
“I know Hartford.”
Mercer’s expression was unreadable.
“And if firm funds or deferred compensation were represented inaccurately in litigation, the executive committee needs to know.”
“Charles—”
“You are not returning to the office Monday.”
Ethan stared.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re on administrative leave pending review.”
At his wedding.
In front of associates.
Clients.
Family.
His new wife.
His son.
Ethan looked at me.
The hatred in his eyes was almost impressive.
“You happy?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Liar.”
“I wanted you to leave me alone.”
“You ruined my wedding.”
“You ruined your wedding.”
He stepped toward me.
Michael moved between us.
“Back off.”
Ethan shoved his brother’s shoulder.
Michael didn’t move.
“Go home, Ethan.”
“This is my wedding.”
Michael glanced toward the empty spot where Sophia had stood.
“Not much of one anymore.”
Ethan’s fist tightened.
For one terrible second, I thought he might hit him.
