No Second Chances Ex-husband (Lauren and Ethan) novel Chapter 97

CHAPTER 097

ETHAN’S POV

I dropped the spoon on my plate with a soft clink, the sound sharp against the otherwise quiet dining room. The taste of the last bite of dinner still lingered faintly on my tongue, though I had hardly paid attention to the food as I ate. My mind had been elsewhere, circling around the night ahead. My tie, a black piece, hung loosely around my neck, waiting to be knotted. My white shirt, still unbuttoned halfway, exposed the firm line of my chest. I leaned back slightly, allowing my meal to settle as I reached for the napkin beside my plate.

Behind me, like shadows, the maids stood in silence, hands clasped in front of them, their gazes fixed downward. They had been trained to wait, not to move until I gave a sign. And as soon as I dropped that spoon, their reaction was immediate. Several of them rushed forward, clearing the table with a kind of nervous urgency. The china barely rattled as they moved, but I could see the way their hands trembled ever so slightly. Good. They knew what was expected of them. They knew that if I had to tell them again, if I had to raise my voice or even glance at the clock to remind them, there would be consequences.

I took the napkin, slowly dabbing at the corner of my mouth, savoring the quiet control of the moment. Then, with my index finger, I made a small gesture toward the head maid. She understood instantly and stepped closer, bowing her head respectfully as she approached.

“What can I do for you, sir?” she asked, her voice low, careful. She did not look me in the eyes, she knew better than to attempt that.

I let a beat of silence hang in the air before I spoke. “As you can see, my wife and I are going out this evening, and we might not be back until midnight.” I set the napkin down deliberately on the table, folding it once, neatly. “I want you to take care of my son. Make sure he is well-fed. Make sure he goes to bed on time. Do I make myself clear?”

She gave a small nod, her eyes still cast downward. That silent bow was all the reply I needed, but it irritated me

nonetheless.

I narrowed my gaze at her and leaned slightly forward. “Just to be clear, if I get any complaints from my son about any of you, even the smallest of complaints, then consider yourselves fired.” I rose from my chair as I spoke, pushing it back with a quiet scrape against the floor. “Do not test me on this.”

The maids stepped back in unison, another series of quick bows following my words. They tried to mask it, but I could see the way their hands shook as they held the trays, the way their shoulders stiffened with fear. That fear was not weakness it was respect, the very thing that kept a household running as it should. I believed firmly in ruling through fear, both in my home and in the business world. It was fear that kept people sharp, loyal, and unwilling to cross you. And in my world, staying on top required nothing less.

I turned and left the dining room, walking with steady strides toward the staircase. Each step carried me closer to my bedroom, where I knew Sofia would be waiting.

When I entered, she was already standing before the mirror, adjusting the straps of her gown. She had chosen not to join me for dinner, of course. I had known she wouldn’t. The gown she had picked for tonight was the kind that demanded a waist trainer beneath it, and Sofia was always willing to sacrifice comfort for the image she wanted to portray. Eating before an event, for her, was unthinkable food would only betray her by swelling her stomach and making her corset unbearable.

I watched her silently for a moment, taking in the glamour she had wrapped herself in. She turned, her lips curving into a smile as she spun lightly, letting the gown’s fabric catch the light. “It looks good, right?” she asked, her voice threaded with expectation.

“Yeah, sure,” I said after a pause. My tone was even, but inside, I knew that was a lie. The dress fit her well enough, but my eyes were drawn to the faint line of the waist trainer beneath the gown. Not everyone would notice it, not unless they looked closely, but I could see it. I always could.

The truth was, we had a perfectly good gym downstairs, one equipped with everything she could ever need to stay in shape. Yet she rarely set foot in it. Instead, she wasted her weekends indulging herself, eating with abandon every Saturday night, then complaining about the results. And when the inevitable happened, when the fat crept in at the edges, her solution was not discipline but concealment. Waist trainers, restrictive gowns, carefully chosen angles in photos.

I shook my head inwardly. Discipline was what separated the strong from the weak. If only she understood that.

“I’m leaving in ten minutes,” I said, my voice firm as I began adjusting the cuffs of my shirt.

She turned toward me fully now, her eyes narrowing as she took in my reflection. “Looking like that?” she asked, gesturing at my unkempt hair and the undone state of my outfit.

“What’s wrong with it?” I countered, my brows lifting slightly. “Am I going to a fashion show?” I glanced at myself in the mirror, unbothered by my disheveled appearance.

She sighed, irritation slipping into her tone. “Look, I know you’re going to an event your rival is hosting, but that doesn’t mean you should go there looking like a lowlife. At least put in a little effort. Show them you have class. If we manage to talk to one of their investors, do you honestly think they’ll take you seriously if you look like this?”

Her words hung in the air, sharp and inconveniently true. I exhaled slowly, resisting the urge to argue. Sofia could be irritating, but she wasn’t entirely wrong. Appearances mattered, especially tonight. I had built an empire on power, but power was nothing without perception.

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