Chapter 272

Ethan had been whisked away by Grace in the dead of night and never returned to his room.

Vanessa had assumed that once they arrived at Whitmore Manor, she would finally get a chance to speak with Ethan properly.

But after dinner, while she helped the staff clear the table, Ethan had vanished without a trace.

Her calls went unanswered. Since stepping foot in Whitmore Manor that evening, Ethan hadn’t uttered a single word to her.

The Whitmore family members were as sharp-eyed as ever, their gazes making Vanessa’s skin prickle with unease.

She couldn’t risk anyone noticing the tension between her and Ethan, so she excused herself early, skipping the Christmas Eve festivities.

At midnight, the sky outside erupted in a dazzling display of fireworks.

While the rest of the household cheered for Christmas, Vanessa paced her room, restless.

The bursts of light were too bright, too intrusive. She moved to the window, staring blankly at the spectacle.

The colors painted the night—gold, sapphire, ruby—each explosion a fleeting brilliance against the dark.

Her reflection in the glass looked hollow.

Where was he?

Grace had taken him hours ago. What could possibly be keeping him away this long?

Vanessa’s fingers tightened around her phone. Still no response.

The fireworks roared, their echoes vibrating through the manor’s old walls.

She should have been downstairs, laughing with the others, pretending everything was fine.

But the act was getting harder to maintain.

A particularly loud burst made her flinch.

For a split second, the room flashed white, illuminating the untouched bed, the packed suitcase, the half-written note on the desk.

Then darkness swallowed it all again.

Vanessa exhaled sharply.

She needed answers.

And if Ethan wouldn’t give them to her, she’d find another way.

The night sky erupted in a kaleidoscope of colors, as if celestial painters had dipped their brushes in liquid gold and silver. Cascading sparks formed intricate patterns overhead, transforming the velvet darkness into a shimmering canvas of light.

A soft rapping sound barely registered against the booming echoes of the fireworks display. Vanessa stood mesmerized by the spectacle, her fingers tracing invisible patterns against the windowpane.

As the final burst of light faded into smoke, she turned - and froze. Ethan stood silhouetted in the doorway, his piercing gaze sending chills down her spine. Vanessa's breath hitched before she forced her lips into a practiced smile.

"There you are, darling. I've been searching everywhere for you." Her voice dripped with honeyed concern as she stepped forward. "Where have you been hiding all evening?"

Every romance novel promised that lovers' quarrels were but temporary storms.

Vanessa had prepared meticulously for this moment. The silk nightgown clung to her curves like a second skin, its neckline dipping dangerously low. The bath oils still lingered on her skin, their floral notes mingling with something more primal.

She knew Ethan would return to Whitmore Manor tonight.

On the dresser sat the unlit candle - her secret weapon. Its exotic fragrance promised to lower inhibitions, to blur the lines between resentment and desire. One spark was all it would take to rewrite their story.

Vanessa understood the depth of Ethan's distrust. This was her last, desperate play.

When his shadow fell across the threshold, her fingers twitched toward the matches. The game had begun.

Her fingers trembled slightly, the lighter clicking uselessly several times before finally sparking to life.

"Leave it if it won't work," Ethan muttered, his voice icy.

Vanessa ignored him, stubbornly flicking it again until a small flame flared up.

In a heartbeat, she threw herself against him. "Ethan, you've been gone for so long. I thought... I thought you didn't want me anymore."

She pressed her face into his chest, her movements delicate, like a fragile bird seeking warmth.

Her hands clutched at his waist, fingers tracing idle patterns against the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't be angry with me, please?" She tilted her head up, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, emotions threatening to spill over at any second.

The sight of her—vulnerable, pleading—could have softened the hardest heart.

A single tear escaped, trailing down her cheek before landing on his chest, darkening the fabric beneath.

The moment was perfectly crafted.

Scented candles burned softly nearby, their rich fragrance wrapping around them like an invisible embrace.

The air thickened with an exotic, seductive fragrance that sent hormones raging through everyone's veins like wildfire.

Ethan Caldwell's pupils contracted sharply as Vanessa Hart's fingers began working on his shirt buttons. A dark realization dawned in his whiskey-colored eyes.

His attention snapped to the scented candle Vanessa had lit in haste moments ago. With a violent swipe of his hand, the candle clattered to the marble floor, wax splattering like blood.

"Ethan—" Vanessa gasped, her breath hitching.

The scent of expensive cigars clung to Ethan's tailored suit, mingling dangerously with the sharp tang of bourbon—evidence of his earlier drinking.

He seized her jaw with bruising force, his lips curling in a venomous smirk. "Vanessa Hart," he growled, each word dripping with contempt. "Did you really think you could play this cheap whore's trick on me?"

The atmosphere crackled with unspoken threats as the intoxicating perfume continued its relentless assault on their senses.