Chapter 3

Ethan woke. If spirits slept.

He was on the study floor.

The phantom ache in his shoulder throbbed.

Four days.

The countdown was a vise on his soul.

He found Liam in the kitchen.

Dressed in Ethan' s silk robe. Making coffee.

Looking perfectly at home.

His arm was in a sling. A dramatic touch.

"Morning, Ethan." Liam' s voice was cheerful. Too cheerful.

"Ava' s still asleep. Poor thing, she was so worried about me last night."

He sipped his coffee. Smirked.

"She really does care, you know."

Ethan said nothing.

The sight of Liam, so comfortable in his home, in his life, was nauseating.

Liam leaned against the counter.

"Ava thinks a trip to Aspen might be good. For her to de-stress."

He paused. Looked at Ethan.

"She wants you to come, of course. Formality, you understand."

His eyes hardened. The cheerfulness vanished.

"And you will come, Ethan."

A threat. Unspoken but clear.

"If you refuse, I' ll have to tell Ava how you confessed. About pushing me."

He smiled. A cold, predatory smile.

"We wouldn' t want to upset her further, would we?"

Blackmail.

Ethan felt a surge of helpless rage.

He was a ghost. With a deadline.

He couldn' t fight Liam. Not physically. Not yet.

He needed Ava to say those words.

"Fine." The word was a growl.

"I' ll go."

Liam' s smile widened. "Excellent."

The private jet. Hayes Industries.

Ava was distant. Cold.

She sat with Liam. Held his hand.

Whispered to him.

Ethan sat alone. Watching them.

The flight was long. Silent for him.

Aspen. The chalet. Another Hayes property.

Snow-capped mountains. Crisp air.

It should have been beautiful.

It felt like a prison.

They settled in.

Liam, ever the martyr, retired to his room. "To rest his arm."

Ava fussed over him.

Ethan watched. The ache in his chest intensified.

Later that evening.

A knock on the door.

Not a polite knock.

Ava opened it.

Armed men. Masks. Guns.

They pushed their way in.

"Nobody move!"

Ava gasped. Liam, emerging from his room, feigned terror.

"What is this? Who are you?"

One of the men grabbed Ava.

Another shoved Liam.

Ethan tensed. Ready to... what? He was a spirit.

"Marcus Thorne sends his regards."

The leader spoke. Voice gravelly.

Thorne. The hedge fund manager.

Ava had orchestrated a market play. Decimated his firm. Public disgrace. Financial ruin.

Ethan remembered the headlines.

"He wants compensation, Mrs. Hayes."

"For the pain you caused him."

The man dragged Ava to the center of the room.

"He wants a choice."

A phone was thrust at Ava.

Thorne' s voice. Crackling. Full of hate.

"Ava Monroe. You ruined me. Now you pay."

"I have your men. Your husband. Your lover."

"An exorbitant ransom. For one of them."

"The other... will be my guarantee."

"Choose, Ava. Which one lives?"

Ethan' s heart, his phantom heart, sank.

He knew who she would choose.

Liam. Always Liam.

He braced himself.

Ava' s voice. Shaking. But firm.

"I' m not choosing."

Ethan stared.

Liam looked shocked.

"He' s still my husband," Ava said, her eyes blazing.

"And under my protection."

She looked at Ethan. A flicker of something. Indecipherable.

"And Liam is... Liam."

"I won' t sacrifice either."

She negotiated. Fiercely.

Thorne' s men grew agitated.

Guns waved. Shouts.

The leader aimed his pistol. At Ava.

"Enough games! Choose!"

Ethan moved. Instinct.

He knew his spirit form couldn' t be permanently harmed.

But Ava could.

He tackled Thorne' s man. As the gun fired.

A searing pain in his shoulder. The same shoulder.

His spirit form mimicked the injury. Again.

He fell.

Ava screamed his name.

"Ethan!"

Sirens. Loud. Closing in.

The local sheriff.

Ava must have triggered a silent alarm.

The chalet door burst open.

Armed officers.

"Police! Drop your weapons!"

Chaos. Shouts.

Then, blessed quiet.

Thorne' s men, disarmed. Cuffed.

Ava rushed to Ethan' s side.

"Ethan! Are you hurt?"

Her face. Pale. Worried.

For him?

Or was it just the drama of the moment?