Page 65 of Ethan & Grace

“Let me guess—you’d want me naked and on my knees for that?”

He put a hand to his chest. “Aw, you know me so well.”

I didn’t mean to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. He was just so ridiculous.

He looked at me with a sparkle in his eyes, gently stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. The touch made me want to throw my arms around his neck and hold him close. But when Ethan’s phone vibrated in his jacket pocket, I suppressed the urge.

He reached for his phone, tearing his eyes off me to read the message that had just come in. A furrow appeared between his eyebrows, and I watched the smile gradually slip from his face.

“What is it?”

He raised his head, and this time, when he looked at me, there was no hint of confidence in his expression—only concern. “I need to get back to the hotel immediately.”

24

Shocking Revelation: Henry Darlington Embroiled in a World of Drugs!

Secret Addiction Comes to Light!

INsider headline

Ethan

Grace had offered to come with me to the hotel for moral support, but I wasn’t the one who needed it. Henry was. I couldn’t begin to imagine how he must be feeling right now. These past few months, he’d given everything he had to keep the hotel running, and I was certain that The Darlington would be in a far worse state today were our dad still the one in charge. Henry had sacrificed so much, given so much, risked so much—only for the media to tear him to pieces.

The article had been out for barely half an hour, but I was sure that at least a dozen news outlets had already picked up the INsider headline. This kind of news tended to spread like wildfire. How had they even caught wind of his addiction?

At the hotel, I headed straight for Henry’s office and knocked on the door.

“Get lost, Vivian!” he called out.

I pushed it open. “Can I come in?”

Henry, slumped in his chair, gave a nod.

I slipped into the room and closed the door behind me. My brother looked devastated. His face was creased. He had taken off his jacket and tie, and his shirt was unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled up. His expression was dark, as if he had just returned from a funeral. In a way, he had: the funeral of his squeaky-clean reputation. Henry had always been the golden boy. His two biggest, and really only, scandals had been his breakup with Olivia Asterdam and his relationship with Kate. There was no other drama in his past—or if there had been, it was long forgotten by now.

I ignored the tea and coffee station and went straight to the drinks trolley, where I poured a glass of scotch. Not for me, but for Henry. I sat down and slid the glass across the desk to him. He reached for it and downed it in one go. Without a word, I got up again and fetched the whole bottle. Henry poured himself a generous refill and took another sip.

“Why am I doing this to myself?” he asked, sounding resigned.

I didn’t reply, because it was clearly a rhetorical question. He wasn’t looking for an answer. He just needed someone to listen while he vented. And since I hadn’t been that person for far too long, I was glad I could be there for him now.

“For months, I’ve been busting a gut for this hotel. The Pearl Gala was a huge success, despite all the setbacks. We raised almost fourteen million pounds. And even though The Darlington’s finances are worse than ever, I gave the entire staff a pay raise in January to reward their loyalty and commitment. But do you think anyone reports on that? No. No! Instead, those bastards find the only blot on my reputation and drag it into the public eye.” He gulped down more of the scotch. “Have you read the article?”

I nodded. It was pretty devastating. There wasn’t a single mention of the fact that Henry was clean now, or clarification that he’d been addicted to prescription medication rather than hard, illegal drugs. The article gave the impression that he was seriously hooked on heroin. And they backed up this aspersion with unflattering photos supposedly showing him as a junkie, even though at least one of them was clearly AI-generated. But that wouldn’t stop people from sharing the piece. The worst thing about the article was that it linked his addiction to his relationship with Kate. The media had once portrayed her as a drug addict too, after a friend of her late mother gave a scandalous interview.

“What will you do now?” I asked.

Henry shrugged. “Maybe I’ll drop everything and emigrate to Spain or southern Italy with Kate. I’m sick of this cold English weather anyway.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. He would never give up the hotel. “OK. But seriously?”

“I’ll put out a press statement setting the record straight as soon as I’ve calmed down and sobered up,” he said, topping up his scotch glass once again. “And then I’ll find out who was responsible for the leak and make their life a living hell, believe me.”

I believed him; the anger in his eyes was hard to miss. That said, it was nothing compared to Grace’s. I’d rarely seen rage so unbridled as hers was towards Detective Carter. It had looked like she might lunge at the investigator.

“Do you have any suspects yet?”