Rising from the Ashes The Heiress They Tried to Erase Novel

Chapter 1020 Chapter 1021: "All right then. I'll head back and whip up some food to keep you all going," Kathie said as she turned to leave. At that point, Ethan, his frustration mounting, turned to Chris and said, "Hey, bodyguard, could you grab my phone for me?" Chris paused briefly but then picked up the phone from the nightstand and handed it over. "Want me to make the call for you?" "No, I got it. I can type." Despite the pain, Ethan took the phone and opened Twitter, beginning to draft a message.

He needed to lay out what was going on to "JusticeBlaze" and make sure his feelings about Maia were crystal clear. Meanwhile, the real JusticeBlaze-Chris himself-remained completely oblivious, busy filling a glass with water for Maia. But Marisa felt like the world had just caved in around her. She had been mortified by her wild daydreams just a moment ago, but now a wave of doubt and bitterness washed over her. Ethan was still texting someone, even with everything going on? Who in the world could that be? Maybe it was Melanie? Ugh... The thought stung worse than a slap to the face!

"Ethan, I've been through so much trying to support you..." her inner voice muttered in frustration. A weird sense of rivalry bubbled up inside Marisa, pushing her to shut her eyes and silently size herself up against Melanie. Your next story starts here: gⱯlnσνℓs․com Did Ethan prefer girls like Melanie? Marisa wondered if it was because she usually kept things low-key with her style. But she had made an effort for him before, hadn't she? Refusing to sit and wait, she knew she had to sneak in a moment to ask him what type of girls he was into. Out of the blue, Chris' phone buzzed.

A private message popped up on Twitter from "Winters." It turned out to be the exact message Ethan had just typed out. Hearing the notification, Ethan snapped his gaze up at Chris. A soft wind from the sea drifted through the air. The old warehouse at the harbor's edge, usually quiet except for the waves lapping at the shore, had suddenly come alive with men in black suits. The longstanding calm had been shattered. Hurst, mistaken by Ethan as JusticeBlaze, had just arrived, looking travel-worn.

He wore a dark suit cut to perfection, his jacket left open, and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. His face radiated a calm, icy composure. The moment Hurst stepped in, a crowd of people lined up to show respect. "Good day, Mr. Cooper." "Mr. Cooper." In near-perfect unison, dozens of voices rang out from inside the warehouse. They all bowed in sync, their eyes showing both respect and fear, their gestures sharp and coordinated. Hurst gave a slight nod, used to this kind of display, and motioned for everyone to fall back into their places. . . .