Chapter 369: Back home

Ethan woke up as the first rays of the morning sun cut through the curtains. He felt refreshed, his energy core humming with a steady, quiet power. He dressed quickly and headed downstairs, expecting the usual morning bustle of the inn.

Instead, he found the lobby eerily quiet. The shelves were bare, the decorative trinkets gone, and the furniture covered in white sheets. Helen was standing by the front desk, looking smaller than usual amidst the emptiness.

"What happened here? Everything is... gone," said Ethan.

"I’m ready, Etienne. I closed the deal last night. I sold everything—the furniture, the stock, the goodwill. I only asked the buyer to let me keep the rooms for us until this morning. Whenever you’re ready to leave, I’m ready," said Helen.

Ethan blinked, impressed by her efficiency. "Well, I suppose we’re hitting the road. I slept like a log. Just let me grab some coffee... oh, wait. I forgot this isn’t your business anymore, is it? We can just buy some on the way," said Ethan.

"No! Please, it would be an honor. You’ve done so much for me that making you breakfast is the absolute least I can do. Give me thirty minutes, and I’ll have everything ready for the journey," said Helen.

"Fair enough. Do you have luggage? I can start loading the SUV," said Ethan.

"Just one suitcase. It’s upstairs in my room. I’ve already packed most of it," said Helen.

"I’ll go grab it while I bring down my own gear," said Ethan.

Ethan climbed the stairs and walked into Helen’s private quarters. The room smelled of lavender and old wood. He spotted the suitcase near the wardrobe, but as he moved toward it, his eyes landed on the bed. Scattered across the quilt were a few discarded items—and right in the center sat a pair of delicate, white lace panties.

He stared for a heartbeat too long. Before he could look away, the door creaked open. Helen walked in, freezing the moment she saw where his gaze was fixed. Her face turned a shade of crimson that rivaled a sunset.

"Oh! I... I’m so sorry!" said Helen.

She lunged forward, snatching the lace garment and tucking it behind her back with frantic movements.

"I thought I had more time... I was changing for the trip and I... I didn’t think you’d come up so fast! I’m so embarrassed!" said Helen.

Ethan cleared his throat, a faint, playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself. The tension in the small room became thick enough to breathe.

"Don’t worry about it, Helen. I didn’t see a thing. My eyes were strictly on the suitcase," said Ethan.

"You’re a terrible liar, Etienne," said Helen, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes darting to his before looking at the floor.

"Maybe. But I’m a helpful one. Let me take the bag," said Ethan.

He grabbed the suitcase, his hand brushing hers for a brief second. The contact felt like an electric spark—nothing like his lightning, but something much more human. He made his way down to the SUV, loading her belongings alongside his own.

A few minutes later, Helen came out carrying a small black plastic bag—which Ethan assumed held the "leftovers" from her bed—and a large wicker picnic basket filled with the promised food.

"It’s a long drive. I didn’t want us relying on gas station snacks," said Helen.

Ethan walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for her, bowing slightly. "After you, milady."

Helen blushed again, stepping into the high-end vehicle. Ethan climbed into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and put on some light music. As they pulled away from the inn, Helen looked back one last time at the life she was leaving behind, but then she looked at Ethan, and her expression softened.

Ethan focused on the road, his hands relaxed on the wheel. He wasn’t just driving home; he was moving his most valuable chess piece into position. The house Jason had prepared was perfect—close enough to the prison to be strategic, but secluded enough to keep his real identity hidden.

As they approached the city, Ethan bypassed the high-end districts and gleaming skyscrapers, steering the SUV into a quiet, middle-class neighborhood. The streets were lined with modest trees and well-kept, simple houses.

He pulled into the driveway of a two-story home with a small front porch and a neatly trimmed lawn. It was the definition of "unremarkable"—exactly how Ethan had instructed Jason to find it. A mansion would have triggered Helen’s instincts, making her feel like a bird in a gilded cage. Here, she could breathe.

"Well, we’re here," said Ethan, killing the engine.

"This is your summer house? It’s... it’s lovely. It feels very peaceful," said Helen.

"It’s my retreat for when I have business in this sector. It’s not much, but it’s private. Let’s get you settled," said Ethan.

He hopped out and rounded the vehicle, grabbing her suitcase and his own bag. He led her to the front door, the key turning with a smooth, oiled click. Inside, the house smelled of fresh air and floor wax. The furniture was comfortable—soft linens, wooden tables, and warm lighting.

"Make yourself at home. Let me show you around so you don’t feel like a stranger in your own space," said Ethan.

He led her through the living room toward the back.

"The kitchen is through here. It’s fully equipped, though the pantry only has canned goods and dry pasta at the moment. I apologize for that; I haven’t visited in a few months, so there’s nothing fresh in the fridge," said Ethan.

"Etienne, please stop apologizing. This is more than I ever expected. A kitchen like this... I can actually cook properly again," said Helen, her fingers trailing over the marble countertop.

"The guest suite is upstairs. It has its own bathroom and a view of the garden. My room is on the opposite side of the hall, but as I told you, I’ll be away for most of the next few days handling the paperwork for your son’s case," said Ethan.

He walked her up the stairs, opening the door to a bright, airy bedroom. The bed was made with thick, cream-colored blankets, and a vase of dried flowers sat on the dresser.

"All the utilities are paid for, and there’s high-speed internet if you need to look anything up. Consider this your fortress until we get your boy back," said Ethan.

Helen turned to him, the soft light of the afternoon sun catching the moisture in her eyes. "I don’t know why you’re being this kind to me. A summer house, a lawyer, a way out... it feels like a dream I’m going to wake up from."

"It’s not a dream, Helen. It’s a new start. Get some rest. I have a few calls to make to the prosecutor’s office," said Ethan.

He turned to leave, but he could feel her gaze on his back—a mix of profound gratitude and a growing, silent longing that she was desperately trying to suppress. Ethan walked to his own room and shut the door, his expression hardening instantly.

"Crul, contact Jason. I want a status update on the prison’s internal security and the boy’s current cell block. It’s time to move the pieces," said Ethan.

[Acknowledged, Master. Jason is standing by,] Crul said.