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Chapter 2
As the icy lake water rose past his chest, Ethan Smith's mind drifted back to the first time he'd met Sophia Sinclair. She'd been wearing the latest Chanel dress, standing beneath the crystal chandelier at a charity gala, breathtakingly beautiful—like a painting come to life.
Everyone said Ethan was utterly devoted to Sophia. He'd even welcomed her and her daughter from a previous marriage without hesitation. Sophia herself believed it wholeheartedly.
After all, among her many suitors, some had coveted her shares in the Sinclair Group, others had lusted after her beauty—but Ethan? His love had been pure, fervent. Even Alexander Huxley, the man she'd once loved deeply, couldn't compare to such sincerity.
Five years of marriage, and he'd remained unwavering in his care for her and Luna. A man like that—how could he ever leave?
Bang!
The private room door slammed open. Ethan staggered inside, drenched, clutching the watch he'd just dredged from the lake. His lips were blue, his voice trembling. "F-Found it..."
Before he could finish, his tall frame collapsed to the floor.
In the last second before unconsciousness, he thought he saw Sophia's expression change—saw her rushing toward him. But it had to be a hallucination, right? Ever since Alexander returned, she and Luna had been desperate to distance themselves from him. Why would they worry now?
When he woke again, he was in the master bedroom. Laughter drifted in from the living room. Pressing a hand to his feverish forehead, he pushed the door open—
Sophia was peeling an apple for Alexander, while Luna nestled in the man's arms, cooing like a spoiled kitten. The cheerful scene froze the moment he appeared.
"Alexander will be staying with us for a while," Sophia said without looking up. "Go prepare the guest room."
Five-year-old Luna suddenly scowled, lifting her chin imperiously. "This is my dad! He has every right to stay here!" She deliberately emphasized the words "Mr. Smith" with a sneer. "You wouldn't dare object, would you?"
Ethan's lips twisted into a bitter smile.
As if he had the right to object.
Before Alexander came back, Luna had called him Daddy so sweetly. Now? He wasn't even "Uncle" anymore—just a glorified house manager.
"Of course," he said calmly, as if it were nothing.
Sophia arched a brow in surprise, but Luna pressed further. "I'm hungry! Daddy loves prawn cocktail and bouillabaisse—go make them now!"
The aftereffects of plunging into a freezing lake still wracked his body, but Ethan dragged himself into the kitchen despite the fever burning through him. Through the glass door, he watched Sophia hand-feed Alexander grapes while Luna eagerly offered him tea.
What a perfect little family.
He lowered his head, slicing open the grayish-blue backs of the live prawns with sharp kitchen shears. Maybe this was for the best. In twenty-eight more days, he could finally return to the home that was truly his.