Page 40 of Mile High Ex's Dad
“Ethan,” I say, and my voice shakes despite everything I do to stop it. “Don’t.”
He tightens his grip. “You always did this. Acting pathetic so people would feel sorry for you.”
I wrench again, harder this time. “Get out.”
His eyes drop, wild and unfocused for a second, then come back to my face. “Maybe I should’ve ended this properly in Spain.”
The words hit me like ice water.
And then a second voice, cold and deadly calm, cuts through the room behind him.
“Take your hand off her.”
Ethan freezes.
So do I.
I know that voice immediately.
Viktor.
6
SIENNA
He’s barefoot,shirt sleeves rolled, dark trousers low on his hips like he threw them on in a hurry. No jacket. No tie. His hair is slightly disordered, and somehow that makes him look more dangerous, not less.
Ethan lets go of me at once.
The relief is so sudden my knees almost buckle.
“Father,” he says, and the word comes out thin.
Viktor doesn’t look at me first. He looks at Ethan.
Only Ethan.
I’ve never seen a man’s face go that empty.
“What,” Viktor says, very quietly, “do you think you’re doing?”
“It’s not what it looks like.”
“Then explain it.”
Ethan glances at me, then away. “We were talking.”
Viktor takes one step into the room. “No,” he says. “You were drunk. You were in her room. And you were laying hands on a woman who told you to let go.”
The silence that follows is suffocating.
Viktor keeps walking toward us. “It concerns me now.”
The floorboards barely creak under him. He isn’t hurrying. He doesn’t need to. There’s something about the way he moves when he’s angry that makes speed irrelevant.
Ethan looks at him, then at me, and something ugly twists in his mouth. “You think this is about her?” he says. “She’s a fucking joke.”
I can feel the shape of Ethan’s fingers there already, hot and angry against my skin. I pull the robe tighter around myself and back toward the bed, not far, just enough to put a little more space between me and both of them.
