"Ethan… oh, my baby," Clara said warmly as she pulled her son into a tight embrace. Her arms wrapped around him with love that only a mother could give.
Ethan smiled for the first time in days. "Mom, thank you," he said softly, holding her close. "I really needed this."
Clara patted his back gently. "Of course, darling. You've been through a lot. I'm here now."
They stayed like that for a few moments, sharing a rare, quiet bond.
But the warmth in Clara's face faded the moment her eyes landed on Ava—who was slowly walking down the stairs. She looked tired, fragile, but composed.
Clara's smile tightened, her jaw clenched slightly. She didn't say a word as Ava came closer.
Eleanor, who had arrived just behind their mother, stepped forward and pulled Ava into a hug without hesitation.
"How are you, Ava?" she asked with genuine concern.
Ava hugged her back, smiling faintly. "I'm okay, Eleanor. Better now that you're here."
The two shared a sister-like bond that had always been unshaken, unlike Clara's changing behavior over the years.
Clara had once welcomed Ava into the family—when she believed Ava came from a respectable, well-off background. But once she learned Ava had been disowned by her father and wouldn't inherit a penny, her attitude changed completely.
Now that her son Ethan had a multibillion dollar business she didn't want Ava anymore at her daughter-in-law and when she came to know about miscarriage her happiness touched the sky that Ethan will definitely leave her but her dream broke even after two years they were together though she can sense there relation was not like before. And she never leaves a chance to mock her with miscarriage.
Clara wanted Ava out. She saw Ava as a burden—a stain on the perfect life she wanted for her son.
"You should greet your brother first, Eleanor," Clara said coldly, eyes still on Ava. "Not waste your time with someone who brings nothing to this family."
Ava's face fell, but she didn't respond. She had grown used to the cruelty.
Ethan heard the comment.
He said nothing.
Eleanor's expression hardened. She turned to her mother, her tone sharp. "Mom, please. That's not how we speak to family. Ava is part of this family, whether you accept it or not. And family doesn't tear each other down."
Clara rolled her eyes with an icy scoff. "Family?" she said bitterly. "Her own family disowned her. And now she's clinging to my son like a leech."
Eleanor stepped forward, her mouth opening to fire back at her mother—but Ava gently reached out and grabbed her hand.
Ava shook her head, didn't want to escalate the situation.
Eleanor hesitated, her fists clenched, but the pain in Ava's eyes stopped her. She swallowed her anger and took a step back.
Clara, seeing Ava's calm response, only grew bolder.
"Oh yes, of course," Clara sneered. "Now you play the quiet, respectful one. Acting like the bigger person. You always do that, don't you? Pretend you're good, pretend you're innocent, but I see right through you."
Her voice rose, sharp and cruel.
"You're nothing but a manipulative bitch. First, you trapped my son—got him wrapped around your finger with your soft words and fake tears. And now you've got Eleanor defending you too?"
Ava stood still, her head bowed slightly, lips pressed together. She didn't say a word. She wouldn't give Clara the satisfaction.
"You think your little games will last forever? You think Ethan doesn't see you for who you are now?" Clara snapped. "You ruined his peace, his life. That miscarriage—" she laughed coldly, "—that was just the start. You've brought nothing but bad luck since the day you entered this house."
Eleanor couldn't take it anymore. She shut her eyes, her chest rising and falling with frustration. Without saying another word, she turned and walked away, heading up to her room, slamming the door behind her.
And Ethan?
He stood right there.
Silent.
Still.
Not a single word came out of his mouth. Not one defense. Not one protest. Not even a glance toward Ava to show her he disagreed.
Ava stood frozen, her fingers trembling, her chest tight at the mention of miscarriage.
...…
Ethan sat at his office desk, head leaning back against the chair, eyes closed. His fingers rubbed the bridge of his nose as scattered papers lay forgotten across the desk. Numbers, contracts, deadlines—none of it mattered at the moment. His mind was everywhere but work.
The door creaked open quietly.
Natalia stepped in, heels clicking softly against the floor. She carried a cup of coffee and placed it gently in front of him.
"Strong. Just the way you like it," she said smoothly, her voice low.
Ethan opened his eyes slowly, catching sight of her. They locked eyes for a brief moment, something unreadable passing between them. His gaze dropped to the coffee, steam curling into the air. A faint smile touched his lips as he reached for it.
"Thanks," he said, taking a small sip.
Natalia moved behind him, hands slipping over his shoulders as she began to massage them gently. "You look tired," she murmured.
He said nothing, just let her fingers work across his tensed muscles.
She leaned closer, brushing her lips near his ear. "You should take a break. Too much thinking is never good for you."
Ethan opened his eyes again and glanced up at her. The top buttons of her shirt were undone—just enough. She knew what she was doing.
He smirked. "You always know how to lift my mood, don't you?"
Natalia pulled back and gave him an innocent look. "What? I was just being helpful," she said, pretending to pout as she stepped away from his lap.
She swayed as she walked toward the door, her hips moving deliberately, knowing exactly where his eyes would land.
As Ethan immediately held her by her wrist as he bend her over the table.