Chapter 6

CHAPTERSIX

People know more about me than they realize.

They just don’t know it.

~ Ethan

CHLOÉ STOOD ON the lakeshore with the water lapping at her toes, staring up at the clear blue sky as the setting sun bathed her face in pinks and purples.

What a beautiful way to start the week. She couldn’t think of a better place to spend her days off than out here at the Holt Estate. They’d gotten down there late last night, and she’d fallen asleep the second her head hit the pillow. Today had been all about relaxing.

How could it not? It was so peaceful out here, with nothing but the sound of the rippling water and twittering birds who were enjoying the day as much as she was.

Deciding to go and rejoin her men, she headed up to the house, where she’d left Ethan and Zayne working before heading out for a walk. Ethan had been on the phone with the manager of Le Bureau,busy going through the first month’s numbers and how they could improve or tweak things at the new location, while Zayne had been going through current client lists and seeing where he could make some new connections for the club back here.

After the public fallout with the senator, she knew Zayne had been stressing over places to network. But it seemed that he wasn’t only good at charming the pants off people—he was also very good at charming the names of friends out of some of their more prominent clients.

It was fascinating to watch, this side of them. The professional side. Obviously they were good at running the club, but up until now she’d never seen it in action. She’d only ever seen them at the club or after hours, not how they conducted themselves in the business world, and she had to admit, seeing them this way was a whole other level of hot.

She picked up her pace as she walked through the beautiful gardens. With summer in full swing, the colors and scents were in abundance, with hyacinths, lavender, and daffodils all in bloom. But what really caught and held her attention were the magnolia trees. There were several around the property, and the sweet, fruity fragrance made her think of summertime and champagne.

She leaned in and inhaled, the aromas filling her senses and making her feel like she was floating.

“They were my mother’s favorite as well.”

Chloé spun around as though she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. But the soft smile on Ethan’s face told her she had nothing to worry about. He walked down the stairs then reached out to gently touch one of the pink and white petals.

“Every time they bloom, I think of her and the summer we planted them. There’s one around the corner too. She was so excited to see how big they’d grow.” He glanced up at the tall tree with the long arms and gorgeous spray of color. “I think she’d be pleased.”

Chloé’s heart thumped as she stared up at Ethan’s soft expression. The look on his face was one she’d only seen when he told her he loved her, or spoke of how he felt for Zayne.

He was such a controlled man, such an enigma. It was easy to see why he put Zayne out in front of their clients as the face of The Office, because Ethan wasn’t the kind to just let anyone in.

But he was letting her in now. This was the first time he’d ever voluntarily shared a memory of his mother—his parents in general—and Chloé was well aware of what a monumental step that was for him. For them.

“I think she’d be more than pleased.” She turned back to take in the breathtaking beauty of the tree. “With the magnolias and with you.”

“You think so, do you?”

She could feel Ethan’s eyes on her but kept her attention fixed on the pretty petals.

“I do. The magnolia represents nobility, perseverance, and dignity. All traits that encapsulate you.” Chloé shifted her eyes back to his. “You hold yourself with an air of importance, you command respect like only one other person I know, and with everything you’ve been through, no one could accuse you of not persevering. You’re incredible. A testament to what your parents instilled in you when you were a boy. So yes, I think your mother would be very proud of the man you’ve become.”

Ethan searched her face, probably looking for the audacity she’d just shown in passing judgment over something she knew nothing about. But when a soft smile curved his lips, her heart just about flew out of her chest.

“That’s very kind and means the world to me.” He reached for her hand and drew it up to his lips. “One of the most important things in my life was to make sure their legacy lived on.”

“And you did.”

He nodded but then tugged on her hand and drew her toward the house. “I don’t mean me. Come, there’s something I want to show you.”

They entered the living room, where Zayne was stretched out on one of the sofas, his hands behind his head, his eyes shut as he took an afternoon nap, and who could blame him? With the doors open, the summer breeze and sound of the water washing up on the shore was enough to lull anyone into dreamland.

Ethan led her down one of the many hallways and through to his office. She’d never been in there before. Not because she’d been told not to go but because she knew how her papa felt about being disturbed when he was in his office.

So when Ethan opened the door and gestured for her to come inside, she paused and said, “Are you sure?”

“Of course. You can go anywhere in this house, petite fille. What’s mine is yours.”

She stepped into the large office space and was immediately hit with a panoramic view of the lake and the other magnolia he had spoken of. The desk was situated so it faced the view but also kept sight of the door, and shelves full of books, knickknacks, and a few photos lined the opposite wall.

“Wow, Ethan.” She walked over to the window and stared out at the lights glistening off the dark lake. “How do you ever get anything done in here?”

Ethan walked up behind her and put a hand on her waist. “That’s a good question. I thought about turning the desk to fully face the door, but—”

“Oh no.” Chloé shook her head and looked back at him. “That would be a crime.”

“I agree. Which is why it’s half and half, and why I spend half the time staring out at the view instead of my work. Hence, I usually get most of it done at The Office.”

Chloé smirked. “Well, so do most people, Mr. Holt. But then again, your office is a little different to most.”

He chuckled and drew a finger down her cheek. “So it is. This was originally my father’s office.”

Again with the voluntary information on his family. The level of trust he was extending this afternoon made Chloé’s heart feel so full it might burst.

“He spent many hours in here. We all did. See that couch over there?”

Chloé spotted a gorgeous loveseat that faced the window and an ornate lamp that was situated at one end of it.

“My mother and I would sit over there, and while he worked, she’d read to me. After they died, I used to lock myself in this room and refuse to come out. It was my sanctuary until I was sent away to Kings.”

“The boarding school.”

“That’s right.” He slipped his hands in his pockets and turned away from her, walking over to the built-in shelves. “I thought my world was coming to an end. I was in a strange place, I had no one, and instead of being somewhere familiar, I was locked away in a prison. Then I met—”

“Zayne.”

Ethan glanced over his shoulder, those beautiful amber eyes all but smiling. “Yes. My light in a dark room, and it had become very dark. I was angry and sad. I thought everything in my life had been taken from me. What I didn’t realize was that all of it was still here—my parents had made sure of that. So even though they were physically gone, I still had them with me at all times.”

He gestured for her to come over to him. Chloé crossed the office and stopped by the shelves, where he picked up an old black-and-white photograph and handed it to her.

Chloé took the framed picture, looked at the image that had been lovingly preserved, and frowned. “I’ve seen this before.”

“Have you?”

“Of course—everyone has. Holtson’s is the biggest company in the country. Everyone goes there. It’s practically an institution. Not to mention they’re the richest family too.”

“Right.”

She looked back at the image of a man dressed in a suit, standing by the very first Holtson store. He was the founder, the owner, and he looked a lot like—

Chloé’s head snapped up, her wide eyes locking with Ethan’s. No, there was no way.

But as the chaos that was her life these past few months flashed before her eyes, the luxury and extravagance of it all began to make sense.

“This is my grandfather, Edward—”

“Holt…” Oh my God.

Oh.

My.

God.

“Yes. He had a son, my father, so he called his first store Holt-son.”

Chloé blinked up at Ethan, trying to wrap her head around the fact that— “So now you’re the son in Holtson?”

“That’s right.”

She took a couple of steps back and sat down on the couch, the photo still clutched firmly in her hand. This was insane. Completely and utterly insane.

“You’re… You own Holtson’s?”

“Technically I own seventy percent of it. I sold some of the company’s stock a few years back. But yes, I own it.”

Putain…How many times had she shopped at a Holtson’s store? At least once a week her entire life. They sold anything and everything, and usually at the best price.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” She looked back at the picture again, completely flabbergasted. “When do you run it? How do you—”

“I don’t.” Ethan took the seat beside her. “When my parents died, I was the only heir that remained. Everything was left to me, contingent on my finishing school and university. With no one to claim me, I was placed at Kings until graduation, per their will. As you know, I was only eight. So a board of fifteen members were in place to look after all of the business comings and goings. I saw no reason to change that, but I do attend those board meetings once a month. There’s one tonight, so you and Zayne will have the house to yourselves.”

Still reeling from everything he’d just told her, Chloé blinked up at him.

“You okay, petite fille?”

“Uh, yes? I’m just trying to process everything you just said.”

“I know it’s a lot.”

“No, I mean, I’ve only shopped in your family’s store most of my life.”

Ethan twirled a lock of her hair around his finger and shrugged. “Small world, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know about that. More like you own a good chunk of it.”

“The world? No.” He chuckled. “Just the biggest corporation in the U.S. And speaking of owning things, I wanted to talk with you about something. I meant it when I said what’s mine is yours and Zayne’s. I’ve been given more than any one person could ever need, but none of it means a thing without you both. So when you’re ready, I’d like to put you on the titles to our homes.” Ethan looked at his watch and then gestured to the door. “I’m sorry, but I have to get going. Feel free to look around some more.”

“Are you sure? This is your office. I don’t want to—”

“Chloé? How many times do I have to tell you? What’s mine is yours. I mean that. I don’t have anything to hide.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’ll be back soon. I love you.”

She stared at him with eyes full of awe and wonder. Not over everything he’d just told her, but the simple and easy way he’d just said he loved her. She never could’ve imagined that from their first encounter.

“I love you too. Be safe.”

“Always.” He headed to the door, and as he slipped out, Chloé turned back to the photo in her hand.

This confession of his felt like the biggest of all. The trust he was showing unparalleled. Holtson… Holy shit.

“Red? Red, you in here?”

Chloé whirled around as though she’d been caught rifling through the filing cabinets. But when Zayne stepped inside the office, she instantly relaxed.

“What you got there?” He crossed the office and took the picture. “So, he finally told you, huh?”

“That he’s the son in Holt-son?” A sound of disbelief left her. “Yeah.”

“You sound like me the first time I found out.”

“Gobsmacked?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. I was fifteen.”

“Fifteen?”

“Mhmm. Imagine finding out your first crush was one of the richest people in the country.”

“I… I can’t even.”

“Exactly.”

* * *

ZAYNE PLACED THE photo of Edward Holt back on the shelf and took Chloé’s hand.

“Check this out.” He entwined their fingers and tugged her over to the window that overlooked the beautiful magnolia. “Did he show you this photo?”

She shook her head as Zayne picked up the frame on the desk and handed it to her. Chloé took it with such care that it was like he was handing her the finest china. But the second her eyes locked on the image, her breath caught and her hand flew to her mouth.

He understood the reaction, because he’d had the exact same one when he first saw the photo of Ethan’s parents—especially his father.

“Oh my God.” She glanced up at him, and Zayne nodded.

“Wild, isn’t it?”

Her eyes fell back to the moment that had been caught so perfectly in time, just outside this window, in front of the lake.

Ethan stood between his parents, his father had his arm wrapped around his wife, and they each had a hand on their little boy’s shoulders.

Zayne remembered the first time he’d seen that photo and how confused he’d been by the way it made him feel so…sad. A deep sadness not only for the little boy in the photo but for himself. He’d never known a love like that, something so pure, something so freely given, and seeing it firsthand had made him realize what he didn’t have. What neither of them had anymore.

“The resemblance is uncanny.” She drew her fingers across Ethan’s father’s cheek. “It must be so hard,” she whispered. “Always looking at—”

“A ghost?”

She nodded, her eyes glistening. “That’s so sad.”

“It is. It’s something he struggles with a lot. Can I give you some advice?”

“Please.”

“Wait for him.”

Chloé frowned, and Zayne reached out to smooth his thumb across the creases of her brow.

“I know you’re probably trying to remember what happened to his parents right now. That you must’ve heard it somewhere along the way, with their being so famous. But let him tell you. It’s his story, and now you’re a part of that. Don’t read someone else’s version.”

Chloé looked back to the family she held in her hands. “Is that what you did?”

“Yeah. I was pushy and impatient. I rushed him.”

“You were fifteen.”

“I know.” Zayne stepped around her and walked over to the window to stare out at the lake. Then he shut his eyes and remembered the first time he ever stood there…

“ETHAN?” ZAYNE BANGED on Ethan’s dorm room door for the third time in a matter of minutes, his frustration level mounting as he stood in the empty corridor. “I know you’re in there, so stop ignoring me.”

It’d been three days since he’d seen or heard from Ethan, and the teachers told him he’d reported in sick. But whenever Zayne texted or tried to see him, it was radio silence, and this shit was getting old.

He was worried about him. Cared about the jackass. But if he was going to just ghost him, then maybe Zayne shouldn’t even bother. Clearly Ethan didn’t want to see him or talk to him. But the idea that Ethan was lying in bed sick as a dog didn’t sit well with him.

And if he was that sick, then why wasn’t he at the doctor’s or hospital?

Ugh, Zayne couldn’t decide if he was more worried or annoyed at this stage, but one thing he did know—he wasn’t leaving until Ethan opened the damn door.

Bang, bang, bang.

“Go away, Zayne.”

Ah, so he is alive.Just ignoring me.

“No. Not until you open this door and prove you’re not dying.”

“Jesus.” The door was yanked open so hard that Zayne was shocked it didn’t fly off its hinges, but before he could get his bearings, Ethan spat out, “Are you stupid?”

That had his brain refiring. “For giving a shit about you? Probably. Can you not text a person back? Clearly you can walk. So is it only your hands that aren’t working?”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed, and for a second Zayne thought he was going to slam the door shut. Instead, he turned and said, “Go away.”

What the hell was going on here? It had been nearly a year since the two of them had been—well, whatever they were—but not seeing each other daily wasn’t part of it. Hell, they spent every spare minute together, often in this dorm room, on that bed. So being told to go away now for no goddamn reason wasn’t going to fly.

“Seriously?” Zayne followed Ethan into his dorm and shut the door behind him. “You think that’s really going to work on me? I followed you around even when you hated me. News flash, I ain’t going anywhere. So tell me what’s wrong with you. Are you really sick?”

Ethan stood with his back to him, his hands in his pockets and his head bent low, and that was when Zayne saw it: the deep breath in…then out.

Ethan looked utterly defeated. A word Zayne would never usually associate with the guy.

“Ethan, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. I don’t feel well, that’s all.”

He was lying, and Zayne knew it. He’d seen Ethan when he was sick. Brought him chicken noodle soup when he’d had the flu back in January.

No, something else was going on here. Something that was causing Ethan to pull away.

“Bullshit.”

When Ethan still didn’t turn, Zayne marched over and walked around him until they were face to face.

“Would you stop lying to me and tell me the fucking truth?”

“I did.” Ethan glared at him. “I want you to go away.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? I just want to be on my own.”

“For days?” Zayne shook his head, trying to understand, trying to work out why Ethan was suddenly acting this way.

He was his boy.

His Z.

So why was he suddenly acting like Zayne had the fucking plague?

“Did I… Did I do something I shouldn’t have? Say something? I thought we were good. That we…”

Something in his voice must’ve broken through, because finally Ethan looked up.

“You didn’t do anything.” His amber eyes were flat. Darker and colder than Zayne ever remembered seeing them. “I just…” He rubbed a hand over his face. “This is a hard time of the year for me.”

“It’s Halloween. The time of year you can scare the shit out of everyone without getting in trouble. Why would that be—”

That was when it hit him. Ethan’s parents. This had to have something to do with Ethan’s parents. “Ethan, I—”

“No. Don’t do that.”

Zayne frowned. “Do what?”

“Pity me. Everyone else does that all fucking month. They stare and wait for me to lose my shit.”

So that’s why he’s staying away.

“I can’t deal with that from you.”

Zayne slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t pity you.”

“No?”

“No. I’m too pissed off at you. You could’ve just told me what was going on instead of being a jerk.” He thought about that for a second then shrugged. “Actually, it’s you, so being a jerk kind of comes with the territory.”

Ethan’s lips tugged up at the corners. “Well, now I’ve told you. So don’t freak out when I’m gone for a few days.”

“Gone? Gone where?”

“I have to go and do something, and I’m leaving in about half an hour.”

Trying not to be a nosy asshole, Zayne nodded and decided to just leave it there. Ethan had been clear: he didn’t want Zayne prying, so there wasn’t much else he could do.

“Okay. Then I guess I’ll see you when you get back.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed as Zayne headed to the door, and just as he was about to open it, he heard, “Z?”

Zayne stopped and glanced over his shoulder, and just when he expected some kind of caustic comment, Ethan threw him for a total loop.

“Will you come with me?”

ZAYNE COULDN’T REMEMBER a time he’d ever packed a bag so fast. But in less than ten minutes, he had clothes and school books stuffed in a backpack and was again knocking on Ethan’s door.

Ethan opened it almost immediately, and if Zayne had expected a warm welcome, he was in for disappointment, because the grim line on Ethan’s lips was still in place. He had a bag on the bed, much like Zayne’s. He grabbed it and headed for the door.

Without a word, Ethan stormed down the hall toward the main lobby of the school, and Zayne followed. When they reached the front desk, Principal Morton’s eyes immediately locked on Zayne and a frown of disapproval pulled at his brows.

“Excuse me? What exactly is going on here?”

Zayne had no idea, but before he could come up with any kind of believable lie, Ethan came right out with the truth.

“Zayne’s coming with me.”

Principal Morton’s eyes flicked between the two of them. “I don’t think so. Mr. Copeland doesn’t have permission to leave the grounds.”

“Then give him permission.” Ethan’s tone was cold, his expression impenetrable as he stared Principal Morton down, and Zayne figured they were about two seconds away from being put in detention.

Instead, Principal Morton looked over to Miss Margaret—the school receptionist—and leaned in to tell her something. A few seconds later, she handed him a clipboard that he then thrust in Zayne’s direction.

“You need to sign this.”

Zayne glanced down at the papers that stated if and when he stepped off the property, he was no longer the school’s responsibility and blah blah blah. He signed his life away quicker than he could blink. It wasn’t like his father would care if something happened to him. So the way he saw it, it was his choice to leave it up to fate.

He handed the papers back to Morton, and the guy’s lips twisted like he was sucking on a lemon.

“One week,” he said to Ethan, who didn’t bother replying. Instead, he walked to the front door of the school and pulled it open, leaving Zayne to follow.

One week? Shit. We’re going somewhere for a week? Where?

“Hey?” he called out, jogging after Ethan, who of course didn’t stop. Zayne picked up the pace and caught up to him. “I said, hey?”

Ethan came to a stop in the front drive. “What?”

“We’re going away for a week?”

“Yes.” Ethan went to turn away from him again, but Zayne caught him.

“Where?”

“Does it matter?”

Not really—he would’ve gone anywhere with Ethan. But still, he figured he should at least try to look like he cared about his own well-being.

“Yeah. I usually like to know where the hell I’m going.”

A black SUV came up the drive and stopped in the drop-off area in front of them.

“I’m going home.”

Nothing he could’ve said would’ve shocked Zayne more. Going home?

As far as he knew, Kings was home for Ethan. That he’d been shipped off here after his parents died. So what did he mean that he was going home?

Ethan opened the car door and tossed his bag inside, then he climbed in and looked back to Zayne. “Well, you still want to come?”

Zayne blinked and knew there was nothing on earth that would make him say no. So he climbed into the car and forever sealed his fate with the mysterious boy who’d walked into his life and never walked back out…

“THAT WAS THE first time I ever came out here to the estate. It was the anniversary of his parents’ death. It was also the first time I found out who Ethan was. He showed me this photo, and, being the stupid kid I was, the second I was alone, I searched for every bit of information I could find on him. I was so curious about what had happened to his family and who he was.”

Chloé placed her hand on Zayne’s arm and squeezed. “That makes sense. You were just a kid.”

“He didn’t think so. I’m pretty sure there was instant regret for bringing me with him when he found out I was looking him up. God.”

Zayne shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I thought I lost him that day. He totally shut down, didn’t talk to me. Here we were, all alone in this huge estate, and he avoided me for three days straight. It was pure torture. I’d never felt so guilty in my life.”

“You didn’t know.”

“That I was digging into his private life?” Zayne shrugged. “Yeah, I did. I knew how much he hated gossip. How much he hated being talked about and pitied by everyone at school. But I couldn’t help myself. His silence was my punishment, and I hated every second of it. I found him on the fourth day, sitting under that tree out there. His mother’s tree. I apologized, I would’ve groveled if I had to, and I promised I’d never hurt him that way again.”

Chloé smiled up at him. “A promise you must’ve kept. He told me you were the light in his dark room. That’s a beautiful compliment.”

Zayne smiled back. “That’s definitely an opinion he came to many years later, trust me.”

“I don’t think so. He brought you here during one of the darkest times of his life. You may not have been perfect, but I think you were the light out of the dark room for him. You showed him what could be that first year you were together. You showed him that life was still worth living.”

Zayne drew gentle fingers down her cheek to her chin. “I like to think so.”

Chloé looked back out to the beautiful magnolia tree.

“Be patient with him,” Zayne whispered. “He’ll open up. He’s already started to.”

Chloé wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled in. “I know. I was just thinking about those two boys under the magnolia tree. I’m glad they found each other, and I’m glad they found me.”

Zayne pulled her in and kissed her on the head. “So are they, Red.”