Page 43 of A Million Shades Of Love and Betrayal

"When I got home from work, he was waiting for me or Yasmin, I'm not sure but he threatened to not go through with the divorce if I went through with the deal with Ivan."

"I thought they were already divorced?" Roman voiced the very question I had.

"I thought the same, Yasmin told me she'd take care of it, so I just let it go."

"You let it go? Aren't you curious?"

I shrugged. "Of course, I am. I want to hold him hostage until he confesses all his dirty little secrets, but I decided to trust Yasmin."

He remained quiet letting my words sink in. "It doesn't make sense," Roman muttered, breaking the silence. "Ethan showing up here, threatening you. He's always been hot-tempered, but he's never been this stupid."

I leaned back in my chair, letting out a sigh. The memory of Ethan's visit replayed in my mind. His eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, had been wild with desperation. He had been waiting for one of us. I wasn't sure if he wanted to confront me or Yasmin, but he got stuck with me. He wasn't as put together as he usually was and now that I thought about it, he seemed anxious while he was there.

"I know," I replied, my voice heavy. "It's not like him. But then again, we never really know someone, do we?"

Roman nodded slowly, leaning forward as if to tell me a secret. "I’ve been hearing rumors, Rafael. People are saying Ethan is on the verge of bankruptcy."

My eyes widened in shock. "Bankruptcy? Ethan?"

Roman’s expression was grave as he continued. "Yeah. It explains a lot, doesn't it? His erratic behavior, the desperation. He’s backed into a corner, and he’s lashing out at anyone he thinks is responsible for his downfall."

"And I'm responsible for his downfall?"

It was his turn to shrug his shoulders. "When you stopped being his friend, everyone in the business community noticed. He was never the best choice to take over his father's company but with Ava as the only other option.... let's just say they did a lot more harm than good when they sabotaged your friendship."

"I see," I muttered. I hadn't even thought of Ethan after he blatantly accused me of being a thief. As far as I was concerned, he was no longer relevant. It's shocking to know just how much he benefitted from our friendship. Even so, that was all in the past and I had to focus on what was happening now.

It seemed almost unbelievable, yet the pieces started to fit together. His threats, his unhinged demeanor—it all made sense now. The thought of Ethan, desperate and cornered, made me uneasy. If he was willing to show up at my hotel and threaten me, who knew what else he was capable of?

"We need to take precautions," I said firmly. "I can't stay here. It's too vulnerable."

Roman raised an eyebrow. "You’re leaving the penthouse?"

"Yes. It’s time to return to my house. I need to be somewhere secure, somewhere I can control completely."

Roman nodded in agreement. "It’s a good idea. The sooner, the better. We don't know what Ethan might do next."

-31-

Yasmin

I took a deep breath, savoring the warm aroma of the freshly baked bread and the subtle hints of garlic wafting from the open kitchen. Rafael had picked this little Italian bistro on the edge of town for our lunch date, and it was perfect. Quaint and cozy, it makes you feel at home the moment you walk in. As I looked across the table at Rafael, his dark eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint, I felt a flutter of excitement as I stared at him.

"So, what's good here?" I asked, scanning the menu though my mind was only half-focused on the food.

"The lasagna," Rafael replied without hesitation. "Trust me, it's the best you'll ever have."

"Is that so?" I raised an eyebrow, trying to hide my smile. His eyes seemed lighter and his smile brighter in the few hours we were out of the city.

He leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "I've been coming here for years. Mario, the chef, makes it just like his Nonna used to. It's the real deal."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Well, when you put it that way, I need it."

We placed our orders, and as we waited, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Rafael had a way of making me feel at ease like I could tell him anything. We talked about our favorite books, and movies, and even debated the merits of pineapple on pizza. I could be persuaded to try it, but he was strongly against it. It felt good to laugh, to forget about the chaos outside these walls, if only for a little while.

When the food arrived, it was every bit as delicious as Rafael had promised. The lasagna was rich and savory, with layers of creamy ricotta and tangy marinara that melted in my mouth. We ate in comfortable silence for a while, savoring each bite.

"So," Rafael began after taking a sip of his wine. "I've been thinking."

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