Chapter 5 - The Glass House
That night, the quiet penthouse apartment on the top floors of the Manhattan tower was lit by the soft, golden glow of warm lamps.
The space was enormous, featuring soaring thirty-foot ceilings, minimalist Italian furniture, and panoramic views of the glowing city below. But for the first time since it was built, the cold, sterile apartment felt alive.
A plush white rug in the center of the main living room was covered in soft cotton blankets that Ethan’s staff had rushed to purchase from a high-end children's boutique down the street. Lily was sitting on the floor, happily playing with a set of wooden stacking blocks, her small giggles echoing off the glass walls.
Maya sat on a deep velvet sofa, wearing a comfortable cashmere sweater Ethan had given her. She held a cup of warm tea between her hands, watching the bright lights of the city reflection in the window.
Ethan walked out of the master bedroom, having finally showered and changed into a simple gray t-shirt and dark jeans. He looked ten years younger without the stiff suit and tight necktie.
He walked over to the sofa, sat down beside Maya, and pulled her gently against his chest. He rested his chin on the top of her head, inhaling the sweet, familiar scent of her peach shampoo—the same shampoo she had used in Vermont.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his strong arms wrapping around her waist.
"I feel like I'm dreaming," Maya admitted, setting her tea cup on the table and leaning back into his warmth. "This morning I was trying to figure out if I had enough change in my jar to buy milk and fresh eggs. Now I'm sitting in a palace above New York."
"It's not a palace," Ethan said, his voice laced with gentle regret. "It's just a lot of steel and glass. If you want to go back to Vermont, Maya... if you want to buy a house in the mountains and never see a tall building again, we can leave tomorrow. I have enough private wealth disconnected from Vance Global to make sure we never have to work another day in our lives."
Maya turned in his arms, looking into his face. She touched the soft crease between his eyebrows—the crease that had been there ever since his father died.
"I don't care about the buildings, Ethan," she said softly. "And I don't care about the money. I just want us to be real. I don't want secrets. I don't want corporate wars keeping you away from your daughter."
"There will be no more secrets," Ethan promised, taking her face in his hands and pressing his lips to hers in a slow, deep kiss that made her heart race just like it had two years ago in the small diner during the storm. "Tomorrow, my legal team finishes the restructuring. I am stepping down as active CEO."
Maya pulled back, surprised. "You're stepping down?"
"I’m appointing Arthur Harrison as executive chairman," Ethan explained, smiling softly. "I’ll retain my majority board vote, but I won't be working eighty hours a week anymore. I missed fifteen months of my daughter's life, Maya. I missed her first smile. I missed her sitting up. I am not going to miss her first words or her first steps."
From the floor, Lily let out a loud squeal, knocking down her tower of wooden blocks with a dramatic wave of her arm.
Ethan laughed—a bright, ringing sound that Maya hadn't heard in years. He slid off the sofa onto his knees, crawling over to the blanket to help Lily stack the blocks again.
Maya watched them—the powerful billionaire who had brought Wall Street to its knees three hours ago, now patiently letting a fifteen-month-old girl stuff a blue wooden block into his mouth.
A soft knock sounded at the penthouse door.
Ethan frowned slightly, standing up. "I told security no visitors tonight."
He walked over to the video intercom and pressed the screen.
The camera displayed the private elevator lobby. Standing there was a young man in his late twenties, wearing a plain leather jacket and a dark baseball cap. He looked nervous, holding a thick leather courier bag over his shoulder.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. He pressed the intercom button. "Who are you?"
The young man looked directly up at the camera lens. "Mr. Vance... my name is Julian Ross. I worked as your mother's private driver for three years."
Ethan’s tone turned cold. "If Eleanor sent you—"
"She didn't send me," Julian interrupted quickly, his voice trembling through the speaker. "She was arrested three hours ago. The police are searching her estate. But before they locked the gates, I went into her private vault in the basement."
May you like
He reached into his leather bag and pulled out a heavy, rusting iron box with a thick padlock.
"I know what's inside this box, Mr. Vance," Julian said quietly. "It's your father's original unedited will. The one your mother hid four years ago before he died."
