After Ethan's verbal beatdown, Claire was left seething.
He'd stripped away her white lotus persona and called her out as the manipulative gold-digger she was.
That shattered the core of her pride.
Sure, she'd played guys, chased wealth, and strung along simps—but deep down, she still believed she was a good girl.
To be so mercilessly rejected by someone like Ethan—a guy she used to consider just a low-level backup—was a blow she couldn't accept.
Moments after Ethan ended the call, Claire spammed him with voice messages, one after another.
Ethan didn't bother listening. He didn't need to—he could guess she was hurling insults.
But did he care?
Not in the slightest.
In his eyes, Claire was already dead—just another casualty of the icebound apocalypse.
He had no intention of arguing with a walking corpse.
Instead, seeing her frustrated and losing control brought him joy.
"Hahaha!"
Ethan burst into laughter, leaning back in his chair.
In a good mood, he walked into the kitchen and opened one of the climate-controlled cabinets.
He pulled out a bottle of Romanée-Conti.
Retail price? $30,000.
One of his few true indulgences salvaged from the Walmart warehouse—kept perfectly chilled in its original crate.
He didn't have many bottles left, only a few dozen.
But today called for a celebration.
His home, built like a fortress, had independent power lines hooked into silent generators and battery banks.Electricity? Not a problem.
Fuel? He had barrels.
Water? Stored by the ton.
He headed back into the living room and set out a luxurious spread:
French escargots
Tomahawk steak
Stargazy pie
Nanjing-style salted duck
And, of course, the $30,000 wine.
In this ruined world, where survival had become the only rule, Ethan was having a private banquet of kings.
He didn't care about pairings or etiquette anymore.
He'd eat what he liked, drink when he wanted.
Sometimes he even scooped caviar like it was rice—just because he could.
No one on earth was living like he was right now.
Not even the so-called elites.
Even the rich had been caught off-guard.The collapse had been too sudden.
Ethan remembered: in his previous life, even powerful tycoons didn't make it past the second week.
Like Hugo Walsh's father—once the CEO of a conglomerate.
The man died ten days in.All his wealth turned to worthless paper.
His bloated body couldn't survive the cold, nor did he have the skills to fend for himself.
Meanwhile, back in the freezing apartment Claire shared with Natalie…
Claire was unraveling.
She was pacing, slamming drawers, and muttering Ethan's name through gritted teeth.
She cursed him up and down like a lunatic.
Had it been any other time, she wouldn't have lost her cool.
But what killed her inside was seeing how Ethan lived like a king—while she was trapped in a subzero hellhole.
Warmth. Light. Gourmet meals.
A paradise just a few floors away—and she wasn't allowed in.
It drove her insane.
"Ethan, you son of a bitch! Who the hell do you think you are?!"
"If it weren't for this goddamn snowstorm, I wouldn't even look at you!"
She screamed, eyes blazing with fury.
Natalie watched her from the couch, wrapped tightly in a quilt.
There was a trace of disdain in her eyes.
"Yeah, well... you blew it," she muttered. "If you hadn't messed things up, we could be over there right now enjoying the fire and the food."
Claire snorted. "Please. He's just some nobody with a decent apartment and some savings."
"I'm meant to marry rich. Become someone's trophy wife."
Natalie frowned. "Well, right now? Ethan's setup is way better than any spoiled trust-fund kid."
She turned to look out the frost-covered window.
Snow still fell, heavy and endless.
Their phones had picked up scattered news over the last couple days—enough to know the entire world was frozen over.
Natalie's voice trembled."What if it never stops?"
Inside the apartment, the TV still played one of the few remaining broadcasts.
A government spokesperson, bundled up like a polar explorer, stood shivering in front of the camera, insisting help was coming.
"Stay strong, fellow citizens! We'll get through this together!"
But no help had come.
Nothing changed.
Natalie hugged herself tighter.
"If this goes on… we're gonna freeze to death or starve."
Her words hit Claire hard.
For ten days, they'd been locked in like prisoners.
The days felt longer than years. The constant cold, the gnawing hunger, the hopeless silence—it wore them down.
Neither of them was mentally strong enough for this.
Beneath their Instagram filters and manipulative charm, they were just two scared twenty-somethings—unprepared and vulnerable.
Claire curled into herself on the couch.
Her mind kept circling back to Ethan's home:
The fire.The food.The laughter.
"It's not fair," she murmured. "Why does he get to live like that… while I suffer like this?"
"I'm beautiful. I deserve better."
Natalie gave her a long look, then said nothing.
Instead, she grabbed her phone, scrolled through her contacts, and stopped on Ethan's name.
Downstairs, Ethan was sipping his Romanée-Conti, halfway through a bite of duck when her message popped up.
He raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"Here we go," he said aloud.
Watching women like Natalie squirm under pressure was better than Netflix.
He tapped the message.
"Ethan, I saw how you stood up to Claire. I'm honestly so happy for you."
"I always knew she was just using you. She never cared about your feelings."
"It's about time you saw through her lies!"
Ethan chuckled.
What a fake.
She hadn't wasted a second flipping on her friend.
But he wasn't surprised.
Birds of a feather.
He replied curtly:
"Mm. Not a big deal."
Natalie wasn't finished.
"I used to hate watching her treat you that way. I just… I couldn't say anything."
"Ethan, the truth is… I've always liked you."
"Now that you've finally moved on from her… maybe we can be together?"
Ethan nearly choked on his wine.
Jesus, that escalated fast.
He stared at the screen and muttered, "Talk about shameless. These two are something else."
In her prime, Natalie had always acted like she was too good for him.
Now that he lived in comfort, suddenly she was interested?
Typical.
He shook his head, laughing softly.
"Some people really crumble fast under pressure..."