Chapter 118: Are you sure you’re not seeing anyone?
Ethan scrolled through his phone, his brows furrowing slightly as he skimmed the latest comments under Anna’s post. The atmosphere in her feed had shifted drastically ever since the user @DarkKnight_07 publicly clarified that he wasn’t her lover.
The chaos that had once filled her comment section had calmed, replaced by curiosity and admiration.
Ethan wasn’t someone who cared much for social media—or so he liked to believe. But ever since he’d learned that Anna had signed with Starlight Agency, he’d found himself checking her updates more often than he cared to admit.
For an artist starting her career, a strong online presence was essential. When Anna finally introduced herself as a Starlight artist, he’d intended to send her a simple follow request—something friendly, professional. But then he saw the flood of comments, the endless chatter, the rumors.
That’s when he stopped.
He didn’t even realize he was scowling at the screen until a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
"You seem quite busy ignoring your one and only mother, Ethan," a woman’s voice teased lightly.
Ethan blinked, lowering his phone. His mother, Stephane, sat across from him with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
She had flown in from Country C after three months—three months of failed attempts to get her son to visit. Yet now, sitting directly in front of her, he seemed more interested in his phone than in her presence.
"I was just checking something," he muttered, sliding the phone into his pocket.
Stephane arched a brow, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Checking something—or someone?"
Ethan’s shoulders stiffened.
"Are you sure you’re not seeing anyone?" she asked with mock suspicion. "Because I have a strong feeling it’s the other way around."
"There’s nothing like that," he said quickly, his tone firm enough to end the discussion—or so he hoped.
Stephane sighed, feigning disappointment. "Poor me. I was really hoping for some good news. Honestly, Ethan, you should go on a date once in a while. There are plenty of women who’d love to get to know you. Why hesitate?"
He rubbed his temple, suppressing a groan. "Mom..."
Stephane’s expression softened. She wasn’t teasing anymore—just worried.
After the divorce, Ethan had spent most of his time with his father, while Stephane built a new life overseas. She eventually remarried and had another son, while Ethan’s father stayed single, more interested in business than companionship.
Ethan, too, had chosen a solitary path. His father’s world revolved around deals and mergers, but Ethan wanted something different—something his father never understood. When he declared he wanted to act, not join the family business, it led to a cold silence and, eventually, his moving out.
Since then, his father occasionally called, mostly to set up blind dates he never accepted. Love, to Ethan, was a fleeting illusion—something that began beautifully and ended in disappointment.
"Mom," he said at last, looking up with quiet resolve. "You know I’m focused on my career right now. Love isn’t something I want—or need—as a distraction."
Stephane sighed again, her gaze softening with that familiar mix of love and sadness. She’d heard those words before, every single time.
Ethan had been only twelve when his parents split. The memory of their love unraveling, of watching two people grow strangers under the same roof, had imprinted deeply on him. Since then, he’d stopped believing in forever.
Love fades, he’d decided long ago. So why bother chasing it?
Before Stephane could respond, another voice broke through the hum of the café.
"Ethan!"
Both heads turned.
Standing near their table, radiating practiced poise, was Fiona Stewart. Her smile was wide, deliberate, and camera-perfect.
Stephane’s eyes widened with recognition, her face lighting up. "Oh! Aren’t you Fiona Stewart—from Livid?"
Fiona’s smile softened modestly. "Yes, that’s me."
Stephane’s excitement grew. She wasn’t much of a movie enthusiast, but she had followed the entertainment world closely—mostly because of her son. Fiona was well-known, talented, and charming.
"Oh, please, have a seat!" Stephane gestured warmly to the empty chair beside them before Ethan could react.
Ethan shot his mother a sharp glare. "Mom—"
She ignored him completely, already engaged in conversation.
"It’s such a pleasure to meet you," Stephane said, her tone bright with approval. "I’ve heard wonderful things about you."
Fiona gave a polite laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she sat down gracefully. "That’s kind of you to say." Her gaze flickered briefly to Ethan, who leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable.
He didn’t return her smile. In fact, his entire posture screamed disinterest.
Stephane, on the other hand, seemed thrilled. The way Fiona carried herself—elegant, confident, successful—made her seem like the perfect match for her stubborn son.
Beautiful, grounded, and from the same industry, Stephane thought, her mind already working faster than she should admit. Maybe this is fate lending a hand.
Meanwhile, Ethan remained silent, his jaw tight, wondering how the universe could possibly have this cruel a sense of humor.
This was supposed to be a quiet lunch with his mother—one of the rare moments Ethan actually agreed to spend time with her.
But somehow, it had turned into this.
Fiona Stewart sitting across from him, smiling like she belonged there, while his mother looked positively delighted.
Why is she everywhere? Ethan thought bitterly, his jaw tightening as he watched the two women chatting like old friends.
He took a slow sip of his coffee, hoping they’d tire of the conversation soon. No such luck.
"So, Fiona," Stephane began casually, tilting her head with a mischievous glint in her eye, "do you have someone special in your life?"
Ethan nearly choked on his drink. His eyes snapped up to his mother, disbelief etched across his face.
Fiona blinked, momentarily caught off guard before she composed herself with a demure smile. "No, I don’t."
"Great!" Stephane exclaimed cheerfully, clapping her hands together. "Then why don’t you date my son?"
Ethan: "..."
Fiona: "..."
Silence.
If a pin had dropped, it would’ve echoed through the entire café.
Ethan’s expression darkened instantly, his gaze shooting daggers at his mother. His jaw flexed, his lips parting in restrained disbelief.
You did it again, Mom.
His glare screamed the words she already knew—he hadn’t forgotten the last time she tried setting him up behind his back.
Stephane only laughed awkwardly, waving a hand. "Oh, relax! I was joking."
Fiona’s smile faltered, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks as she tried to laugh it off. "Haha, of course... I mean, how could we date when we’re working together, right?"
"Wait," Stephane blinked, curiosity piqued. "You’re working together? I thought your co-star was some debutant?"
At that, Fiona’s lips twitched, the smile on her face freezing ever so slightly.
"You’re right," she said smoothly, though her tone had a hint of edge. "There’s a debutant in the film too. Her name is Anna."
The name rolled off her tongue deliberately, like a pebble dropped into still water.
Stephane’s brows lifted. "Anna..." she repeated softly, as if testing the sound.
Fiona caught the subtle shift in her tone but said nothing. Instead, Ethan—who had been stoically quiet the entire time—finally spoke.
"Mom," he said flatly, already rising from his seat, "if we’re done here, can we go? I have a photoshoot."
Stephane sighed, giving her son a pointed look but nodding nonetheless. "Of course. I didn’t realize it was that late."
She turned back to Fiona with a pleasant smile. "It was lovely meeting you, dear. I hope you and Ethan get along well on set."
"Of course," Fiona replied sweetly, her lips curling in polite warmth.
Ethan didn’t bother replying—he simply nodded, his expression unreadable as he gestured for his mother to leave.
They walked toward the exit, and Fiona’s eyes followed them, her gaze narrowing as her practiced smile slowly melted into something colder.
For a moment, she hesitated, her hand brushing against the edge of the table. Then, as if compelled by some unseen force, she rose and took a few slow steps toward the door—her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor.
Stephane turned slightly at the sound, meeting Fiona’s gaze once more.
"Of course," Fiona said again, this time with a voice soft enough to sound innocent—yet her words carried a quiet venom beneath them. Her eyes flicked briefly toward Ethan’s retreating figure before meeting Stephane’s again.
"I’ll make sure I get along very well with your son, Aunty."
A faint, knowing smile tugged at her lips, and just for a heartbeat, something dark flickered in her eyes.
Stephane chuckled, unaware of the undercurrent. "I’m counting on it."
But as Fiona watched them disappear through the café door, her expression shifted—sweetness fading, replaced by something far more calculating.
***
[Outside]
"You shouldn’t have reacted that way. She will think of you as someone rude" Stephane said as they reached his parked car.
"And was it right what you did inside. How will you justidy it" Ethan respond with a straight face.
Out of all the people his mother would end up blurting such nonsense before Fiona.
Stephane looked at her son keenly accepting her mistake, but soon her lips curled into a mischivous grin.
"If not Fiona, how about Anna. I am sure she is as beautiful as her" she blurt out once again and this time he rolled his eyes on her.
Ethan didn’t bother to response and simple got into his car, while Stephane followed him grinning widely.