Chapter 7 Unplanned Reunion

Ethan: POV

I drummed my fingers against the polished mahogany of my desk, staring at the quarterly reports without really seeing them.

The numbers that normally commanded my full attention seemed to blur together. Something felt off—had felt off for days now.

Jane.

Her name materialized in my mind unbidden, as it had been doing with increasing frequency.

I hadn't heard from her since our last conversation, and that silence was becoming deafening. Had I pushed too hard? Said something that scared her away?

"Fuck," I muttered, tossing my pen down.

I pressed the intercom. "John, could you come in here?"

My assistant appeared within seconds, notepad already in hand.

"I need information on Jane Mitchell's whereabouts. Current location, who she's with, what she's doing." I kept my voice neutral, professional. "This stays between us."

John nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll get right on it."

While waiting, I tried again to focus on work, but my mind kept circling back to Jane.

Thirty minutes later, my phone buzzed with a text from John. [I have procured information regarding Ms. Mitchell.]

When he entered my office, his expression told me it wasn't good news.

"Ms. Mitchell is currently in Hawaii, sir. The Kaimana Royal Hotel on Waikiki Beach."

I felt my jaw tighten. "Alone?"

"No, sir. She's there with her husband, Lucas Shaw. They checked in yesterday evening."

Something cold settled in my stomach. "Hawaii," I repeated, my voice flat.

"It appears to be a vacation, sir. They have separate rooms, but—"

"Separate rooms?"

"Yes, sir. Though Mr. Shaw booked a third room as well, registered to a Serena Foster."

That made more sense. Lucas was still playing his games, dragging Jane along for appearances while keeping his mistress close by. But why would Jane agree to go? After everything she'd said about wanting out?

"Book the jet," I said, my decision already made. "I'm going to Hawaii tonight."

"Sir?" John looked momentarily surprised. "What about tomorrow's board meeting?"

"Reschedule it. Family emergency." I was already reaching for my phone. "And John? Book me a room at the Kaimana. Under a different name."

"Of course, sir."

I knew I was being irrational.

Jane had made it clear she wanted to divorce Lucas, but now they were suddenly on a romantic getaway? Had they reconciled?

The thought made my chest tighten with something I refused to acknowledge as jealousy.

No. I knew better. This was Lucas forcing her hand somehow. Jane wouldn't just change her mind like that.

Would she?

By the time my plane touched down in Honolulu, it was nearly 10 PM.

The humid air hit me like a wall as I stepped onto the tarmac. A car was waiting to take me directly to the Kaimana Royal.

"Welcome, Mr. Richards," the receptionist said, using the alias John had arranged. "Your ocean-view suite is ready."

"Thank you." I slid an extra hundred across the counter. "I'm looking for a friend staying here—Jane Mitchell. Could you tell me which room she's in?"

Money still opened doors, even in places like this.

Within minutes, I knew Jane was in room 718, while Lucas was in the presidential suite on the top floor. Separate rooms, just as John had said.

I felt an absurd sense of relief at this confirmation. At least they weren't sharing a bed.

Part of me wanted to go straight to her room, but what would I say?

'Hey, I flew four thousand miles because I was worried about you?'

I had no right to question her choices. Not yet.

Despite our arrangement, despite everything I felt for her, she was still legally married to Lucas.

Instead, I headed for the beach. The night air might clear my head.

The moon hung low over the water, casting a silver path across the waves.

Few people were out at this hour—a couple walking hand in hand, a solitary figure jogging along the shoreline, and—

My heart stuttered.

There, sitting alone on the sand, was Jane.

Even from a distance, I could see her shoulders shaking.

She was crying, her voice carrying faintly over the sound of the surf as she hurled curses into the darkness.

"Fuck you, Lucas Shaw! You miserable, pathetic excuse for a man!"

I moved closer, catching more of her words—raw, unfiltered rage pouring out of her in a stream of profanity that would have made a sailor blush.

I'd never heard her speak like this, but there was something cathartic about it, something real.

When her tirade finally subsided into quiet sobs, I shrugged off my jacket and gently placed it around her trembling shoulders.

She startled, looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes that widened in shock. "Ethan?" She quickly wiped at her tears. "What—what are you doing here?"

I lowered myself onto the sand beside her, not caring about my expensive pants. "Business trip. Quinn Global has investments in Honolulu."

"In the same resort where I happen to be staying?" Suspicion colored her voice.

I allowed myself a small smile. "Pure coincidence. I was walking along the beach and heard someone... expressing themselves quite colorfully."

Her cheeks flushed. "You heard all that?"

"Enough to know you're having a difficult evening," I said diplomatically, though inside I was seething at whatever Lucas had done to provoke such a reaction.

We sat in silence for a moment, the waves providing a soothing backdrop.

"Would you prefer to be alone?" I finally asked, prepared to leave if that's what she wanted.

"Actually, no," she replied, surprising me. "I could use the company."

I nodded and offered my hand. "Walk with me? The night air might help clear your head."

As we strolled along the shoreline, I deliberately kept our conversation light—talking about the island, recommending my favorite local restaurants, sharing an amusing story about a surfing mishap during my last visit.

I didn't ask about Lucas or why she was crying. She'd tell me if she wanted to.

Her breathing gradually steadied, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly.

We walked in comfortable silence, occasionally commenting on the stars or the sound of the waves.

It was nearly midnight when I walked her back to her room.

Outside her door, I finally addressed what I'd been working on.

"Your father and brother's transfer paperwork is moving forward," I told her quietly. "Lucas's people are making it difficult, but we're getting there. It won't be much longer."

Gratitude filled her eyes. "Thank you, Ethan. Really."

I wanted to say more—to ask what happened tonight, to tell her she didn't have to stay with Lucas, that I could protect her.

But now wasn't the time. She'd been through enough already.

Instead, I simply nodded and turned to go, unaware that our innocent encounter had already been documented and sent to the man who considered Jane his property.