UNDER THE ASHES

Refusing the Offer

"You think I need you?" Ethan’s voice was sharp, cutting through the cold silence of the room.

Reginald sat behind his polished oak desk, his face unreadable. He leaned back in his chair, watching his son with a calm, almost amused expression. "I’m offering you a lifeline, Ethan. Don’t be a fool."

Ethan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. "You’re not offering me anything but chains. I’m not coming back under your control."

Reginald raised an eyebrow. "Control? This is about survival. Without my help, you won’t last long in this world. You’ll drown."

Ethan took a step forward, his eyes burning with anger. "I’d rather drown on my own than be trapped under you again."

For a moment, Reginald’s face twitched, a hint of frustration breaking through his calm exterior. He stood up, walking slowly around the desk until he was face-to-face with Ethan. "You don’t understand the stakes here, Ethan. This isn’t about pride. It’s about power. Without it, you’ll be crushed."

Ethan met his gaze, refusing to back down. "I don’t need your power. I’ll build my own empire. And when I do, you’ll regret ever abandoning me."

Reginald’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a faint smile. "Build your own empire?" His voice dripped with disbelief. "You have no resources, no allies, nothing. You’ve been left with nothing but your pride, and pride doesn’t win wars."

Ethan felt his heart pounding in his chest, but he kept his voice steady. "I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll do it my way."

"You’ll do it your way?" Reginald’s voice was a low chuckle now, like he found the idea amusing. "And how exactly do you plan to do that?"

Ethan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. He wouldn’t give his father the satisfaction of knowing he hadn’t figured it all out yet.

"You don’t have a plan, do you?" Reginald said, his voice calm again. "You’re acting on emotion, not logic. That’s always been your problem."

Ethan felt his chest tighten. He had no plan, but he knew one thing—he wouldn’t let his father win. Not again.

"I don’t need a plan yet," Ethan said, his voice firm. "I just need to be free from you."

Reginald’s smile disappeared, and for the first time, his voice hardened. "You’re walking away from the only thing that can save you."

Ethan took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. "Maybe I don’t want to be saved by you."

The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of them. Reginald stood still, his eyes locked on his son, studying him, trying to read what was going on in his mind.

Finally, Reginald spoke again, his voice quieter but still cold. "You’re making a mistake."

Ethan shook his head. "No. The mistake was trusting you in the first place."

Reginald’s gaze sharpened. "If you walk out of here, there’s no coming back. You’ll be cut off from everything. No safety net. No second chances. Do you really think you can survive that?"

Ethan stepped back toward the door, his hand hovering over the handle. "I’ve survived worse."

Reginald’s eyes darkened. "And when you fail, when you come crawling back, don’t expect me to be waiting."

Ethan’s hand tightened on the doorknob, but he didn’t turn around. "I won’t be coming back."

There was a long pause. Reginald’s voice was low and dangerous. "You’ll regret this."

Ethan finally turned to face him, his eyes steady. "Maybe. But at least it’ll be my regret."

Without another word, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway, leaving the suffocating presence of his father behind. 

The air outside the study felt colder, heavier, as if the weight of what just happened was following him. But even with that weight, there was something else—a sense of freedom he hadn’t felt in years.

As he walked down the long hallway, his mind raced. He had just cut ties with the most powerful man he knew. He had no money, no resources, and no allies. But he had his will. That had to be enough. It had to be.

The mansion loomed behind him as he stepped out into the night, the sharp wind biting at his skin. He paused at the gate, staring at the massive house, the symbol of everything his father had built. "One day," he whispered to himself, "you’ll be looking up at what I’ve built."

The wind howled in response, but Ethan didn’t move. His mind was already turning, already searching for a way forward.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, the screen glowing in the darkness. It was Victor. Ethan hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Where are you?" Victor’s voice came through the line, calm but concerned.

"Just left my father’s house," Ethan said, his voice tired but steady.

"How did it go?" Victor asked.

Ethan let out a short, humorless laugh. "Exactly how you’d expect. He offered me a way back in, and I refused."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "So, what’s next?"

Ethan took a deep breath, his mind still racing with possibilities. "I’m not sure yet. But I’m not going back."

"You know this means he’ll be coming for you," Victor warned. "He doesn’t take rejection lightly."

"I know," Ethan replied. "But I’ll be ready."

Victor was silent for a moment, then he spoke again, his voice lower. "Do you have a plan, Ethan?"

Ethan swallowed hard. "No. Not yet."

"Then we need to talk. Soon."

Ethan nodded to himself. "I’ll meet you tomorrow. Same place?"

"Same place," Victor confirmed. "But be careful, Ethan. Reginald isn’t going to let this go."

"I know," Ethan said, his voice steady. "I’m counting on it."

He hung up, slipping the phone back into his pocket as he walked down the empty street. The wind whipped around him, cold and unforgiving, but it didn’t matter. He had made his choice, and there was no turning back now.

As he walked, his mind kept going over the conversation with his father. Reginald had offered him everything—power, wealth, security. But it had all come with a price Ethan wasn’t willing to pay.

"I’ll do it my way," he muttered to himself, his breath visible in the cold night air.

But how? That was the question that gnawed at him. How would he build something from nothing? How would he rise when everything was stacked against him?

He stopped in his tracks, his eyes scanning the dark streets around him. "Victor might have ideas," he thought, but even Victor couldn’t do everything. Ethan would need more than one ally. He would need more than vague plans. He needed a strategy, one that would get him close to the people who held real power.

Suddenly, a thought struck him. His father’s connections, his network—Ethan knew them all. He had grown up in that world, had watched from the sidelines as deals were made, as alliances were formed. He had stayed silent, unnoticed. But not anymore.

"I know your world, Father," Ethan whispered, his voice filled with new determination. "And I’ll take it from you."

He could feel the pieces starting to fall into place. If he could find a way to use what he knew, to turn his father’s own world against him, then maybe—just maybe—he had a chance.

His phone buzzed again. This time it wasn’t Victor. It was an unknown number. Ethan hesitated, then answered.

"Young Master?" a deep, unfamiliar voice asked on the other end.

Ethan’s blood ran cold. "Who is this?"

"Someone who knows your father. And someone who’s been waiting for you to make your move."

Ethan’s heart pounded. "What do you want?"

The voice chuckled softly. "The question, Young Master, is what do you want?"

Ethan’s grip tightened on the phone. "What are you offering?"

"A way forward," the voice said smoothly. "But it won’t be easy. Are you ready for that?"

Ethan’s mind raced. He had no idea who this person was or what they were after, but something told him this was the opportunity he needed. 

"And if I say no?" Ethan asked.

The voice paused for a moment before answering, "Then you’ll have to find another way. But tell me, Ethan, do you really have time to look for one?"

Ethan’s breath caught in his throat as the question hung in the air.

What was he going to do now?