CH 22
“I once admired you, Mr. Cole, believing that only a man of unparalleled vision and strategic genius could elevate the Cole family to such heights. But seeing you now, I am sorely disappointed. What principle do you speak of? Is it not merely an antiquated rule, devised by the powerful of the past to maintain their grip on authority? True strength lies in evolving beyond such conventions, not clinging to them.”
Her words hung in the air, unyielding and defiant, leaving both Sophia and James to reconsider the woman before them.
“You…” James stammered, his finger trembling as he pointed at Olivia. His words faltered, unable to match the sheer force of her argument. He had severely underestimated her. Olivia’s sharp, eloquent responses cut through his bluster like a blade. Beneath her composed demeanor was a strength he hadn’t anticipated, completely dismantling her reputation as the family’s underdog.
“Alright,” Sophia interEmily Grantcted, her tone steadying the room. Her words, deliberate and calm, diffused the tension. “Now I understand what Ethan sees in you, Olivia. I accept you as my daughter-in-law.”
Olivia inclined her head respectfully, her lips curving into a warm smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Cole. That means more than I can say.”
“Sophia!” James exclaimed, his frustration evident as he raked his hand through his graying hair. “How can you accept her so easily? This isn’t just about us—it’s about our family’s honor!”
Sophia’s eyes hardened, her voice taking on an edge of finality. “And what do you believe honor is, James? Our family’s reputation is built on how we act and what we stand for. If anyone dares challenge it, they will face us—united and unyielding.”
Olivia raised an eyebrow, silently admiring Sophia’s bold stance. Before anyone could say more, a servant burst into the room, breathless and frantic.
“Something’s wrong!” the servant cried. “Smith—he’s fallen into the pool! Ethan… Ethan pushed him!”
The room erupted in gasps of disbelief, and everyone rushed outside toward the garden.
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Reaching the scene, Olivia saw Ethan in his wheelchair, his face unreadable, yet his sharp gaze was fixed on Smith. The young man lay sprawled on the ground, soaked to the skin, his chest heaving as he coughed weakly.
“Smith!” James knelt by his son, his panic evident. “Smith, speak to me. Are you alright?”
Smith barely opened his eyes, his voice thin but insistent. “Dad, it wasn’t Ethan. I slipped. That’s all.”
“And you’re still covering for him?” James’s voice rose with incredulity. He stood abruptly, his hand lifted, ready to strike Ethan. But before he could bring it down, he hesitated, frozen by Ethan’s piercing, ice-cold stare.
“Thinking of hitting me, are you?” Ethan’s voice was calm, almost chilling, a stark contrast to the turmoil around him.
“You’ve endangered your brother,” James said, his tone faltering despite his efforts to sound resolute. “This cannot be overlooked. You must answer for this.” Yet even as he spoke, doubt flickered in his eyes—a hesitation to follow through with his threat.
“James, that’s enough.” Sophia stepped forward, placing a hand on his raised arm and gently lowering it. “We need to hear Ethan’s side first.”
James huffed, his anger simmering just below the surface. “Very well. I’d love to hear this explanation.”
Ethan shrugged nonchalantly. “I pushed him in. You all saw it.”
Sophia’s eyes widened in surprise, a mix of worry and disappointment clouding her features. “Why would you do that, Ethan? This isn’t like you.”
Ethan’s gaze shifted to his mother, steady and unyielding. “Mom, tell me—what exactly do you think I should be like?”
Sophia faltered, caught off guard by the question. She had always known Ethan to be collected, confident, and articulate. But since his accident, he had grown more distant, his silence an echo of something deeper.
“You heard him,” James snapped, his voice cutting through the tense air. “He’s confessed. If I don’t teach him a lesson now, who knows what he’ll do next?” Turning sharply to the servant, he barked, “Fetch me a stick!”
“Wait,” Olivia interEmily Grantcted, her voice clear and resolute, slicing through the tension like a knife.
James glared at her, his annoyance palpable. “What now?”
Stepping closer, Olivia positioned herself behind Ethan, her sharp gaze falling on the pool. Her expression was thoughtful, as if piecing together a puzzle. “I can’t help but wonder—why are you so convinced Ethan pushed Smith into the pool?”
James scoffed, his frustration mounting. “He just confessed, didn’t he? Are you implying he lied?”
