On His IPO Day, He Chose My Sister Chapter 03

On His IPO Day, He Chose My Sister Chapter 03

I locked my phone and kept eating.

The food had gone cold ages ago, yet I forced every bite down my throat.

Tears plopped into my rice, turning it unbearably salty and bitter.

Seven curled up at my feet, quietly rubbing its head against my calves. It couldn’t speak, but it’d noticed my heartbreak long before Ethan ever did.

Ethan stumbled home at eleven that night, clutching a takeout in one hand.

Seven’s ears pricked at the sound of the door, and he trotted over to greet Ethan out of old habit.

Ethan glanced down and roughly kicked the dog away with an impatient huff. Seven whimpered and scurried back to my side.

I pulled the pup into my arms, my gaze landing on the takeout container on the dining table.

“Late-night snack?”

Ethan set the container down flat. “The food’s fantastic. I grabbed it just for you.”

“I’m not hungry.”

His brows knit tight. “I went out of my way to bring this back—just have a little.”

I said nothing.

He crossed over, snatched my phone right out of my hands, and stared down at me from his towering height.

“Maya, what’s your problem? Just say whatever’s on your mind. I can’t stand you shutting down like this.”

“Like what?”

“Moping around with that sour look, acting like everyone’s done you wrong.”

Hadn’t he wronged me enough?

I didn’t bother picking a fight. I stepped over to the table and flipped open the takeout box. Lobster, crab salad, a creamy seafood bisque.

I waved a hand toward the food, my tone cool and even.

“Ethan, you got all this just for me?”

He glanced over the dishes. “Yeah? What’s the problem?”

“I’m deathly allergic to seafood. Did you forget?”

He froze for a split second, then quickly looked away. “I didn’t pay attention. Chloe… the server packed everything up for me.”

“Chloe, huh?”

His frown deepened instantly. “Are you spying on me?”

I unlocked my phone and pulled up the video Chloe sent earlier—footage of my father’s birthday dinner.

Ethan peeling shrimp for her, the Quinn family laughing and crowding around them like they were the obvious couple. It was impossible to pretend I hadn’t seen it.

Ethan fell silent for a beat, then strode to the bar, poured a glass of whiskey, and downed it in one gulp.

“You didn’t even call your own father for his birthday.”

His tone reeked of tired blame. “If you’re gonna act this childish, why should I lower myself to your petty level?”

I stared straight at him as he kept talking.

“If you’d just swallowed your pride and made peace with him years ago, I might not have struggled half as much.”

“I’m worn thin, Maya.”

So this was what he thought of me—blaming me for refusing to use my traumatized relationship with my father as a shortcut for his success.

I turned and shut myself in the bedroom. “I’m sleeping alone tonight.”

We spent the next few days locked in a cold war.

While he was out at the office, I slowly packed every single one of my belongings.

I dumped all the slow-simmered broths I’d spent hours perfecting straight down the drain.

Every jar of spice, fermented paste, and handwritten recipe left the cabinets for good.

I retrieved every early menu draft and recipe test log from his home office—all pieces that had always belonged to me. Over the past decade, I’d always set my identity aside for us. Not anymore.

I dropped Seven off at a pet boarding facility run by a friend earlier that week.

As I left, he scratched frantically at the car window, his ears drooping in dejection. I stroked his soft head through the glass.

“Be good. I’ll come get you soon.”

It was eight on Saturday night when Ethan walked through the door, briefcase still clutched in his hand, his tone flat as he spoke.

“My mom’s set up a dinner tomorrow evening with your dad and Chloe. It’s a full family meal, and you’re expected to come.”

I paused mid-scroll on my phone. “Can I skip it?”

He fixed me with a hard, unnegotiable stare. “Maya, you know what a family dinner like this means.”

I lifted my gaze to meet his eyes.

What exactly did it mean? A formal engagement talk? Or a public handoff, swapping me out for Chloe right in front of everyone?

I didn’t bother asking.

I simply nodded once. “Fine.”