"Done talking yet? If you're done, shut up already. My ears are ringing-I can't even watch the news in peace."

Mr. Shaw, sitting alone on the couch, suddenly spoke up and tapped his cane on the floor twice with a loud "thud thud."

Sophie shot Grace a sharp look. Grace instantly went silent. "Got it, Grandpa."

Mr. Shaw only had one son, Edward Shaw-Sophie's husband and Ethan's father-who'd flown to Farond a month ago for business. So right now, the family was basically under the old man's management.

He was a retired official, after all. Still carried that old-school discipline about him.

The finance channel was playing, talking about how the Goodwin Group had been officially taken over by Oliver. The tragic accident that killed the couple from the Goodwin family had been ruled a car crash.

And their daughter, Isabella, was also listed among the deceased.

Celeste stared at the TV, eyes fixed and glassy, her fists clenched as tears crept quietly down her cheeks.

Upstairs at the villa's second-floor landing, a man in a wheelchair was quietly observing everything going on downstairs, his gaze intense.

There was no denying it-Celeste had changed. A lot.

The whole day passed and she still hadn't seen Ethan. The man was always coming and going like a ghost, who knew what he was up to.

Late that night, loud crashes and metallic clanks rang from the room next to hers. It even sounded like a wheelchair had tipped over.

Celeste, a light sleeper to begin with, shot up in bed and groaned, dragging her hands through her messy hair.

She tried to ignore it, pulled the covers over her head-but no luck. The noise just wouldn't stop.

With a sigh, she finally slipped on her slippers and padded over to the next room.

She knocked a few times, but no one answered.

'What if something bad happened?'

The thought jolted her fully awake.

Without another thought, she pushed the door open-and instantly froze.

Ethan was lying on the floor beside the bed.

Next to him, a young woman dressed way too sexy for this hour was kneeling nervously, stammering, "I'm really sorry, sir, I didn't mean to... if you're upset, I won't come again..."

"...Did I, uh... interrupt something?" Celeste asked cautiously, but didn't move an inch.

Ethan's face had gone completely dark, especially now that someone he clearly couldn't ignore was standing at the door.

"Get out!" he barked.

"Yes... sorry, I'm leaving now..." the girl mumbled, head down, and darted past Celeste, not even properly dressed. As she passed, she muttered a timid, "Good evening, Mrs. Shaw."

Celeste blinked, confused. What the heck just happened?

"This woman..."

The thought barely formed before she felt a cold, cutting glare slice her way.

"You done staring?" Ethan asked, voice sharp as ever.

"Yeah, all done," she blurted.

"Then get out," he snapped.

"Right..."

Seriously, did this guy only know how to say that one line?

Celeste reached for the door and started to close it, ready to leave.

"Wait." His voice rang out again from behind her-low and unreadable.

"Give me a hand."

She honestly thought he'd be able to manage getting up on his own by now.

Celeste hesitated a little before going over and helping him off the floor.

It was only then that she realized how tall Ethan actually was. Sitting in the wheelchair didn't show it, but now that his six-foot-one frame was leaning on her, he felt ridiculously heavy.

She struggled to get him back into the wheelchair, panting as she did so.

"If that's all, I'm going back to bed." She yawned like she could fall asleep standing-no joke, the nightmares had been relentless these past few days.

Her careless words made Ethan's brow tighten dangerously, like he could swat a fly to death with the tension.

"It's late. I need a shower," he said, in that low, no-discussion tone, voice sharp with chill.

Celeste stopped mid-step.

"...A shower?" Her brain was already turning into a confused mess.

Was he seriously asking her to help with his bath?

No way. That gorgeous woman earlier offered, and he turned her down. Now she walks in and gets stuck with this job?

"Yeah." Ethan clearly had zero patience left. He was already wheeling toward the bathroom. "Come here."

Again, he was ordering her around like she was his assistant.

Ughhhh. Could she say no? Who takes a shower at this hour?! But also, ditching a disabled guy alone in this state felt kinda heartless...

Fine. Whatever. She'd suck it up.

After standing there mentally prepping herself for a moment, Celeste finally dragged her feet forward.

Never in her life had she helped someone shower. Back when she was the pampered Goodwin heiress, she had maids doing all this for her.

She went through the motions she vaguely remembered-started the water and filled the tub.

Ethan sat nearby in his wheelchair, eyes fixed on her.

Under the dim LED bathroom light, Celeste's delicate features were softened. As she bent over the tub, the exposed curve of her collarbone caught the light. She dipped her hand to check the temperature again, adjusting it slightly.

"Alright, water's ready. Hop in." She turned around and said it offhandedly.

And instantly regretted it.

She'd forgotten-he couldn't "hop" anywhere by himself. She'd have to undress him first.

Sure enough, Ethan's whole expression dropped a few shades darker.

The air in the room instantly tightened, like all the oxygen had been sucked out.

Celeste looked at him, then awkwardly pointed to herself. "So... you want me to, uh, help with your clothes?"

He didn't reply, just kept staring at her like she'd grown another head. The kind of stare that made her skin crawl.

Alright, point taken.

She braced herself and helped him up again, wobbling under his weight like she might tip over any second.

With one arm holding him steady, she started unbuttoning his shirt, gritting through her teeth. "You're seriously heavy. Who usually helped you shower before?"

And then she muttered, "If I'm stuck doing this from now on, I might need to go buy a cane or something, otherwise-"

The rest of the sentence never made it out.

In a blur, Ethan pushed her hard, frustration snapping.

She stumbled, her foot catching on some spilled water, and she ended up landing straight on him as he'd just started getting into the tub.

Both of them crashed into the bath at once, water splashing everywhere.

Now fully soaked, her white shirt clung to her like second skin, showing off every curve. But worse than that-her hand had ended up somewhere it really shouldn't be...

"How long are you planning to stay there?" Ethan's voice suddenly erupted above her, full of burning anger.

"Ah!"

Celeste finally screamed, only just realizing the awkward position she was in. Her right hand felt like it was on fire-his body was definitely reacting. She could feel every bit of it.

She yanked her hand back like she'd been electrocuted, scrambled up from him in a messy panic.

But the tub was tiny, and the lighting wasn't doing her any favors. In a split second, her eyes snagged on... certain places on his chest.

Wow!

'Deep breaths, Celeste. Just breathe.'

Her skin glistened with water, like a fresh blossom just out of the pond, her soaked shirt clinging tightly to her body. Ethan could very clearly see everything, and for a moment, the temptation nearly broke his self-control.

"Your little tricks are getting more and more pathetic."

His tone was ice-cold, but you could hear the rage he was trying so hard to swallow.

"Geez, chill. It's not like you've got something the whole male species doesn't. No need to act like it's gold-plated." The words slipped out before she could stop herself-like seriously, who even cared?

"What did you just say?"

His eyes went stone-cold, and even under the dim light, Celeste could feel his glare piercing through her like needles. It was hard to breathe all of a sudden.

"I... pretend I said nothing!"

She exhaled and climbed out of the tub, fumbling around until her hand landed on a washcloth. Then she began scrubbing his back like mad, not even caring if she was gentle.

Her frantic scrubbing had Ethan's jaw clenched up tight, lips pressed into a straight line. Not a word came out of him.

'Wow. Dude can really hold it in?'

Celeste tossed the washcloth at him, clearly over it. "Wash the front yourself."

She wasn't about to get accused of 'seducing' him again, no thanks.

Ethan raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. He grabbed the cloth and nonchalantly started scrubbing his body, right there in front of her.

Celeste's eye twitched. She quickly turned her head away. She had seen enough tonight.

Once they finished up, Celeste handed him a robe and helped him into it. While crouching down to tie the belt around his waist, she tried really hard not to look... down there. But no matter how hard she focused, her mind still flashed back to what her hand accidentally grazed earlier.

Ethan stared at her face, and out of the blue, remembered a wedding invite that had landed in his inbox that morning.

"There's a wedding the day after tomorrow. You're coming with me." His tone was indifferent, like this was some routine obligation. She was, after all, still technically his wife.

"A wedding?"

Celeste froze mid-knot and looked up. The guy was still pulling that emotionless face like everyone owed him money.

That was his idea of 'inviting' someone?

"Yeah, no. I'm not going."

She declined flat-out, tied a firm knot at his waist. "I'm not into weddings. And I've done jail time-everyone in that circle knows me. Why would I wanna get dragged into that mess?"

Ethan's face darkened. He wasn't used to Celeste turning him down so bluntly.

"Anyway, you're clean, clothed, all set to sleep."

She helped ease him into bed, tucked the blanket around him, then stretched her arms and glanced at the time. Almost 3 a.m.

"I'm off to bed too. 'Night."

She turned to leave, heading toward the door. But just a step out, Ethan spoke up from behind her.

"Oliver and I grew up together in the military compound. Grandpa considers him like a grandson. For his wedding, every member of the Shaw family has to be there."

Celeste stopped with her hand on the doorknob, brows furrowing. She turned around slowly and asked, "Whose wedding did you just say?"