His gaze softened. “You were exhausted. And you’re a good mother. I could see that the second you boarded. Anyone who’s ever traveled with a child knows how hard it is.”
I felt heat rush to my face. No one had said something like that to me in years.
“But that’s not the only reason I’m telling you this,” he said.
I blinked. “There’s more?”
He hesitated. “She wasn’t just filming. She was following me. She’s been showing up at my events, sending letters. My security team flagged her last month.”
My stomach twisted. “A stalker?”
“Potentially.”
“And she thought… I was close to you.”
“Yes.”
The pieces snapped together.
Her anger.
Her accusations.
Her insults.
Her fixation.
I was never the target.
I was collateral.
Ethan rubbed his temples. “I didn’t mean for you to get dragged into something dangerous. But now that she’s seen you near me… she might decide you’re a threat.”
Ice slid through my veins. “What do we do?”
He looked at me, steady and calm.
“You and your daughter need protection. And I’m going to handle it.”
That afternoon, the airline escorted us through a private exit normally reserved for VIPs. I felt painfully out of place, clutching Lily while walking behind a billionaire CEO flanked by security. Outside, black SUVs idled near a restricted curbside zone.
Ethan turned to me. “Before anything else, you should know—you’re not in trouble. You didn’t do anything wrong. But I can’t let you go home until we assess the situation.”
My chest tightened. “I live alone. With my baby. If she’s unstable—”
“That’s exactly why I’m involved,” he said firmly.
He guided me into one of the SUVs while two security members climbed into the front. Lily slept against my collarbone as we pulled onto the highway.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“A secure temporary residence WardTech uses for out-of-state employees. We’ll keep you there for now.”
I stared out the window, overwhelmed. I was a normal woman—Emily Carter, 29, office assistant—suddenly thrown into a world of corporate security protocols and billionaire stalker threats. It didn’t feel real.
Once we arrived, the building’s quiet safety began easing my panic. A security agent named Rowan gave me a one-page form.
“This is standard,” he said. “Just confirming your emergency contacts.”
As I filled it out, Ethan stood near the door, checking updates on his phone. His expression hardened.
“She’s already at it,” he said.
I froze. “What?”
“The woman from the flight. Her name is Andrea Watkins. Security caught her trying to leave the airport after arguing with police. She claimed you assaulted your child and I ‘covered it up.’ She used your appearance, your exhaustion—anything she could twist.”
I felt sick. “People will believe her.”
Ethan met my gaze. “Not if the truth comes out first.”
He handed me a tablet showing a statement drafted by WardTech’s PR team:
A passenger harassed a young mother on today’s flight and attempted to fabricate a false narrative involving CEO Ethan Ward. Airline security intervened. No child was ever in danger.
I blinked. “This… defends me.”
“Because you deserve to be defended.”
My eyes stung. No one had stood up for me in years—not my ex, not my parents, not even coworkers who dismissed me as “the tired mom.”
Later that evening, Ethan returned with two cups of coffee. “I need to ask you something,” he said carefully. “Do you want us to press charges? You don’t have to decide now.”
I looked at Lily sleeping peacefully on the bed. “If she might come after us again… yes.”
He nodded. “Then we’ll move forward.”
Over the next week, WardTech’s legal team coordinated with police. Andrea was arrested for harassment, stalking, and interference with airline crew. Ethan testified. So did the flight attendants.
And in the end, the case was straightforward.
But what wasn’t straightforward was the way Ethan kept checking on me.
The way he asked how I was coping.
The way he held Lily like he’d done it a thousand times.
The way he looked at me like I wasn’t invisible.
One night, after the chaos had settled, he said quietly:
“Emily… if you ever need anything—help, support, or even just a break—I’m here.”
For the first time in a long time, I believed someone meant it.
