Chapter 2

Ethan Grant.

The name took a second to land.

The Ethan Grant. Senior partner at Grant & White. Expensive, ruthless, undefeated.

I had emptied almost everything I had to hire him, because Luca was the only thing in this world I refused to lose.

I just had not imagined our first real meeting would happen with me on the garage floor, bleeding and humiliated.

I looked up at him. He stood against the light, face unreadable, all cold authority and absolute control.

"Mr. Grant..." My voice came out hoarse.

He did not help me up. He simply shifted, putting his body between me and Derek.

"So you're the pretty-boy lawyer she hired?" Derek sneered, trying and failing to recover his swagger. "This is family business. Stay out of it. I can do whatever I want to my wife."

Ethan's eyes narrowed a fraction. Dangerous.

Without raising his voice, he took out his phone and turned on the recorder.

"First, Ms. Lane divorced you two years ago. This is not family business."

"Second, your demand for fifty thousand dollars, accompanied by threats, constitutes extortion."

"Third, you physically assaulted her. I have just recorded your own statement. Depending on the extent of injury, that can carry criminal penalties as well."

Each point came down like a blade. Clean. Precise. Final.

Derek's face paled by degrees.

"You're bluffing," he snapped, but his voice had already thinned. "I don't know anything about law. Stop trying to scare me."

"Then test me." Ethan stepped closer, and the difference in height suddenly mattered. "I can call the police right now. Extortion. Assault. Add your debt problems to that, and prison may be the least of your concerns."

He had found the pressure point.

Derek was terrified of losing his freedom, even more terrified that his creditors would reach him where he could not run.

His bravado collapsed.

He shot me one poisonous look, then backed away.

"Fine. You win this round. Just wait, Evie."

He turned and fled toward the exit like a dog kicked off a porch.

Only after his footsteps disappeared did the tension leave my body.

My knees gave out. I leaned against the wheel well, drenched in cold sweat and fighting for breath.

Ethan turned back to me.

Still no sympathy. Still no outstretched hand.

He opened his briefcase, removed a thick file, and held it out.

"These are the financial records and concealed assets we have gathered on your ex-husband. I need your signature."

I stared at him.

Now?

With my face on fire and my hand bleeding, he wanted paperwork?

For one absurd second, I almost laughed.

To him, I was not a woman in crisis. I was a case file.

I forced myself up, dusted off my skirt, and took the papers. My hand shook badly enough that the pen nearly slipped. Blood from my scraped palm streaked the edge of the white folder.

His gaze dropped to the red mark and paused.

He said nothing.

I signed anyway.

"Done." I handed it back. "And... thank you."

"Part of the job."

He slipped the folder away, then started to leave. After one step, he stopped, turned, and offered me a plain white business card.

No title. No office address. Just his name and a number.

"This is my private line," he said.

I took it and felt a trace of warmth still clinging to the card.

"If that kind of man shows up again, don't reason with him. Don't try to carry it alone. Call this number."

His eyes held mine for one beat too long.

"The law is a weapon, Ms. Lane. Not a shield. Protect yourself first. Then fight back."

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