Chapter 7 Fight for Her

Ethan's POV

My knuckles whitened around the steering wheel as I pulled up to Amanda's house. She was there, kneeling in the dirt, hair tangled. My chest tightened, a brutal squeeze. She's mine, legally. I slammed the car door, jaw clenched.

Her head jerked up, eyes red and swollen. I froze mid-step, breath catching. She's breaking, and I'm the bastard who let it happen. My boots crunched closer, hands flexing. We're married—secretly—and she's still their pawn.

I crouched, grabbing her shoulders. She flinched, trembling under my grip. "Get up," I growled, voice rough. Her lips quivered, defiance flickering. She hates me too. My stomach churned, hot and sour, as I yanked her to her feet.

Her dad stormed out, face twisted in rage. "Who the hell are you?" he snarled, shoving me. I stumbled, catching myself. This prick sold her. My fists balled, itching to smash his smug jaw. "I'm her husband," I spat.

Amanda's eyes widened, a gasp escaping. She doesn't believe it. I smirked, sharp and bitter. "Yeah, babe, we tied the knot." Her hands shook, slapping my chest weakly. She's crumbling. My throat burned, guilt clawing deep.

Her stepmom, Elizabeth, laughed, shrill and nasty. "A hustler? Really?" She shoved Amanda, who staggered into me. I caught her, arms tightening. They're vultures. My pulse hammered, fury boiling. "I'll pay for her grandpa," I snapped, glaring.

Dad's fist swung, grazing my cheek. I ducked, shoving him back hard. He hit the wall, grunting. Pathetic old man. Amanda sobbed, clutching my shirt. She's drowning in this. My heart pounded, torn between rage and her soft cries.

"They don't deserve you," I muttered, brushing her hair back. Her eyes searched mine, wet and lost. She thinks I'm trash. My chest ached, a dull throb. I'm the CEO, not some cheap escort. I swallowed, hiding the truth.

Elizabeth sneered, stepping closer. "You're lying scum." Her nails raked my arm, stinging. I hissed, shoving her off. Bitch. Amanda flinched, pulling away. She's slipping from me. My ribs tightened, panic spiking as her doubt grew.

"I know the Blackwood Group's GM," I said, voice steady. Dad's brows shot up, skeptical. I smirked, leaning in. "Isn't your company about to go bankrupt? I can get them to invest and help you resolve this crisis." They'll never guess I run it. My gut twisted, smugness warring with dread.

Amanda shook her head, stepping back. "No way," she whispered, voice breaking. I grabbed her wrist, pulling her close. She's mine to save. Her tears soaked my shirt. She doesn't trust me. My jaw tensed, frustration roaring.

Her dad snorted, arms crossed. "A hustler with connections? Bullshit." He shoved me again, harder. I staggered, catching the doorframe. I could ruin him. My blood boiled, but I smirked. "Test me," I dared, eyes blazing.

She yanked free, glaring. "You're full of it, Ethan!" Her slap stung my face, sharp and hot. I rubbed my cheek, stunned. She's raging, and I deserve it. My heart sank, heavy and cold, as she turned away.

I grabbed her chin, forcing her gaze up. "I'll prove it," I growled, voice low. Her lips trembled, eyes sparking. She wants to believe. My fingers tightened, possessive. I'll drag her out of this hell. Her breath hitched, unsure.

Elizabeth kicked my shin, pain flaring. "Get out!" she shrieked. I shoved her back, hard. She yelped, stumbling. Good. Amanda gasped, clutching my arm. She's torn. My chest heaved, adrenaline pumping as I glared them down.

"I'll cover the old man's bills," I said, staring at Amanda. Her eyes flickered, softening. She's desperate. I brushed her cheek, gentle now. I'd burn millions for her. Her dad scoffed, but I ignored him, heart racing.

She pushed me away, weak but firm. "Why you?" she croaked, voice raw. I smirked, hiding the sting. Because I love you, idiot. My throat tightened, words trapped. "Because I can," I muttered, smug.

Her dad lunged, grabbing my collar. "Prove it now!" he roared. I shoved him off, chest bumping his. He's nothing. Amanda sobbed, sinking to her knees again. She's breaking again. My fists shook, torn between fight and her.

I knelt, pulling her up. "I've got you," I whispered, fierce. She clung to me, shaking. She's mine, damn it. Her tears soaked my neck. They won't take her. My arms tightened, protective and angry.

Elizabeth sneered, shoving Amanda's shoulder. "He's a nobody!" Amanda flinched, burying her face in my chest. She's crumbling under them. My jaw clenched, fury blazing. "Back off," I snarled, shoving Elizabeth hard. She tripped, cursing.

Dad's fist swung again, clipping my jaw. I grunted, tasting blood. Bastard. I tackled him, pinning him down. "Stay down!" I yelled. Amanda screamed, tugging my arm. She's terrified. My heart pounded, wild and raw.

"I'll call Blackwood tomorrow," I panted, standing. Amanda's eyes searched mine, fragile. She's clinging to hope. I smirked, wiping my lip. I'll fix this. Her dad groaned, defeated. My chest swelled, triumphant but shaky.

She grabbed my shirt, voice trembling. "You're serious?" I nodded, fierce. I'd kill for her. Her fingers dug in, desperate. She's mine to protect. My pulse raced, love and lies tangling tight in my gut.

My phone buzzed as I climbed into the Maybach. Amanda's sobs faded behind me. I smirked, rubbing my bruised jaw. She's safe for now. Grandma's voice crackled through the speakers, sharp and prying. My shoulders tensed, instant.

"The board could've waited," she said, tone cutting. My lips twitched, smug. "Can't I visit the West Coast?" She sees through me. My chest tightened, her words poking at the mask I wore.

"Not when you've dodged everything past Chicago for years," she snapped. I grinned, bitter. She's too damn smart. My fingers tapped the wheel, restless. "I met someone," I muttered, voice low and guarded.

"Someone you married without telling me?" Her voice softened, edged with steel. My smirk widened, cocky. She'd love Amanda. My throat burned, pride and dread mixing. "You'll see," I said, smug.

"Three days, Ethan. I'm meeting her." Her tone was final. I slumped back, smirking fading. She'll rip my lies apart. My gut twisted, hard and cold, as the call ended. I'm screwed.

Grandma's face flashed in my mind—stern, unwavering. My hands gripped the wheel, knuckles pale. She raised me when they didn't. My chest ached, a deep, raw pang. Mom ran, Dad replaced me. She was my rock.

I was seven when Dad brought them home—new wife, new kid. My jaw tightened, old rage flaring. No warning, just dumped them on me. My fists flexed, nails biting. He never cared.

We fought nonstop after that, screaming, shoving. My throat closed, remembering. Too stubborn, both of us. I punched the dash, pain shooting up. We quit trying. My eyes stung, furious and lost.

Grandma's coughs echoed in my head, weak now. My chest caved, heavy. I've paid millions, and she's still fading. My breath hitched, ragged. She's all I've got. Tears pricked, but I blinked them back, hard.

My phone lights up with a message from Chris: [Grandma and her entourage are flying in on Thursday. Don't forget we're all meeting them at LAX.]

Perfect. Three days to figure out how to tell her that her golden boy grandson is now supposedly a high-end escort.