When pride meets

The hum of the city filtered in through the grand windows of Ethan Grayson's office as he leaned back in his leather chair, staring out at the skyline. His fingers drummed idly on the mahogany desk, the click-clack rhythm of his thoughts echoing in the otherwise quiet room. John Taylor, his ever-efficient secretary, was organizing papers at the far side of the room, his back to Ethan.

"John," Ethan finally broke the silence, his deep voice laced with a rare, almost reflective tone.

John turned, arching an eyebrow. "What is it now, Ethan?"

Ethan's gaze remained fixed on the glittering horizon, though his mind seemed far from the view. "Do you ever think about how we ended up here? I mean, how... we both got here, considering where we came from?"

John chuckled lightly, but there was no humor in it. "You mean from orphanage to billionaire CEO? Yeah, I've had a few thoughts about it. Can't say it's a fairy tale."

Ethan smirked but didn't respond right away. His mind wandered back to those years, to the cold and lonely nights in the orphanage where survival was an art and trust was a luxury no one could afford. The memories were as sharp as they were distant. The one thing he knew for sure: no one had helped them get here. They had built their empire from the rubble of their past, clawing their way up through grit, resilience, and a touch of luck.

"Do you ever wish things had been different?" Ethan asked, his voice almost quieter this time.

John leaned against the desk, folding his arms. He studied Ethan for a moment, taking in the rare vulnerability in his usually impenetrable gaze. "You know, I don't think we'd be who we are if we'd had it any easier. What's the point of looking back? We're here now."

Ethan's lips twisted into a grim smile. "Right. I suppose you're right."

It wasn't that Ethan wanted to revisit those days, but the memories always seemed to creep up on him at the most inconvenient times. The orphanage had been more of a battlefield than a home, with cruel caretakers, broken promises, and other kids who quickly learned to look out only for themselves.

John had been the closest thing to a friend during those years, though "friend" was a loose term. They'd both been on survival mode, but there had been an unspoken understanding between them—a bond forged through shared pain. It was why John never questioned Ethan's decisions, never challenged him outright, even when his arrogance became unbearable. They both knew what it felt like to have nothing, to lose everything, and to fight like hell for even a scrap of something better.

Ethan's thoughts drifted to the one thing that still haunted him—his decision to marry a "normal" woman. A woman who didn't care about his money, his power, or his legacy. A woman who wouldn't just see him as a means to an end. He didn't know why, but something about this idea felt different, like it might finally be what he needed to feel whole.

John, sensing the shift in Ethan's mood, cleared his throat. "So, what's the real story? Are you actually considering going through with it?"

Ethan snapped his gaze back to John, his eyes narrowing in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, Ethan. You're not exactly the 'commitment' type, and you're certainly not marrying someone who doesn't fit your... profile." John raised an eyebrow, his tone a mixture of amusement and concern.

Ethan leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the desk. "I'm serious this time, John. I want to find someone... real. Not someone who wants my money or status. Just someone who sees me."

John's face softened slightly, though he was clearly trying to mask it with his usual sarcasm. "Well, good luck with that. You may be a billionaire CEO, but I'm guessing your idea of 'real' is a bit different from what you'll find out there."

Ethan let out a sharp laugh. "That's why I'm looking for someone who doesn't fit the mold. Someone... normal."

John leaned back against the desk, his hands in his pockets. "Normal? What does that even mean, Ethan? You think some bookshop girl is gonna be 'real' enough for you?"

At that, Ethan's eyes flickered, a spark of something unidentifiable dancing in his gaze. He didn't answer immediately, instead focusing on the view outside the window.

In the back of his mind, he saw her again—the woman from the bookshop. Emily. Her sharp wit, her unbothered attitude, and the way she had made him feel for the first time in ages—something other than just a business transaction. Something real.

Maybe it was a long shot. Maybe he was chasing an illusion. But there was something about her that had sparked a curiosity in him that he couldn't ignore.

"I'm going to meet her again," Ethan said quietly, as though the decision had just been made. "Tomorrow."

John blinked in surprise. "Wait, the bookshop girl?"

Ethan nodded slowly, the determination clear in his expression. "Yeah. I'll find out if she's the one. If she can see beyond all this," he motioned vaguely around the office, "then maybe she's worth it."

John's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Well, if you think you can charm her without your bank account in the picture, good luck. You're gonna need it."

Ethan shot him a look. "Don't worry. I've got a plan."

John shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "You and your 'plans,' Ethan. I'll believe it when I see it."

Ethan couldn't help but grin. He didn't know what was going to happen next, but for the first time in a long while, he was looking forward to the chase.