Chapter 3

My heart skipped a beat. I instinctively gripped my fork tighter.

That letter was mine.

I had written it a few days ago to thank Ethan and wish him a happy Father's Day.

Since he wasn't home at the time, I had left it on his study desk.

How did Stella get this letter?

"Ethan,"

Stella began, her voice like poison coated in sugar.

"I know Ava is young and doesn't understand things well. But we should guide her properly."

Hearing this, Ethan put down his knife and fork. His gaze shifted to me, his eyes probing.

I was so nervous I could barely breathe. I hurried to explain:

"Sir, that was a thank-you letter I wrote..."

"A thank-you letter?"

Stella laughed lightly, cutting me off.

She elegantly picked up the letter, her slender fingers brushing the edge of the paper.

Holding it up to the light, she read in an almost lyrical tone:

"Thank you for giving me a home so I no longer have to wander. I will study hard and live up to your expectations."

She paused, then her tone sharpened, her eyes suddenly piercing:

"Ava, these words are beautifully written. But how do you explain this last sentence?"

I looked at her blankly.

Then I saw her red lips part as she read in French:

"I love you, and I want to be the one who holds your hand for life."

My mind went blank with a buzzing sound.

"I didn't write that!"

I shot to my feet. The chair scraped loudly against the floor.

"I never wrote anything like that!"

"You didn't?"

Stella pushed the letter toward Ethan, pointing at the line at the bottom.

"Ethan, look at this handwriting. How could it not be hers?"

I rushed forward to grab the letter, but Ethan's icy glare stopped me.

His eyes lingered on the paper for a moment. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

"Sir, it really wasn't me!"

Tears welled up in my eyes. My voice trembled with fear.

"The last line of my thank-you letter was wishing you a happy Father's Day!"

Stella let out a timely sigh, her tone full of helplessness and tolerance:

"Ava, don't be scared. I know you're dependent on Ethan. That's normal. But this kind of feeling is unhealthy and must be corrected early. You're still young. You have a long road ahead. You can't waste your thoughts on the wrong things."

Every word sounded like she was looking out for me.

But every sentence was nailing me to the pillar of shame for "improper thoughts."

Ethan finally spoke, his voice devoid of warmth: "That's enough."

He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. The lenses reflected a cold light.

"Ava, your priority is your studies."

He looked at me, his gaze distant, as if looking at a troublesome stranger.

"I don't want anything like this to happen again."

My heart sank, cold as if it had fallen into an icy pit.

He believed her. He didn't even give me a chance to defend myself before condemning me.

"Stella and I are going to Europe for our honeymoon next week."

Ethan's voice was calm.

"During that time, I'll have Jasper move in to supervise your studies."

Jasper Chase.

Ethan's good-for-nothing younger brother who did nothing but fool around.