Page 13 of Ethan: The Untouchable CEO

Her body tenses imperceptibly, a subtle tensing at the edge of her jaw, the faint clenching of her fists resting on her lap. Her eyes flash with a mix of disbelief, irritation, and something else—something sharper, more dangerous, that betrays the tension simmering beneath the surface.

Even the tiniest adjustment of her posture is a silent challenge, a reaction she doesn’t dare voice aloud.

Because I’m paying such close attention to her, I notice the moment determination takes over her face.

Slowly, sensually, she rises from her chair and walks toward me.

When she reaches me, nothing betrays any hint of weakness or emotion. She leans toward me, maintaining eye contact, then brings her mouth close to my ear and says, “I can only believe I’m better than you at this, considering I never got caught.”

Her lips brush my ear with every word, and her warm breath teases along my skin, pushing me dangerously close to the edge.

I can feel the tension coil in my chest, a tight thrilling ache that makes my hands curl slightly on my desk. My pulse hums in my veins as every movement of her body—the sway of her hips, the roll of her shoulders, the delicate calm in her stride—sends a jolt through me.

Laughing mischievously, she straightens and walks back to her seat, glancing over her shoulder at me.

“I think I’ve given your employees enough of a show, and I doubt Irina would appreciate these… interactions between us. So, please approve my plans. After that, you’re free to invite your girlfriend over and fuck her in peace once you activate the privacy system.”

I deliberately ignore her comment about never being caught having sex in public—whether it was with Theo or another man, or several other men, and where, and whether those men were careful enough to ensure she was never exposed—and instead I nod, smirking ironically.

With a sly glance, I sign off her contract and tell her, “Good luck.”

She looks at me triumphantly, gathering her tablet and papers from the desk, then she moves toward the door but doesn’t leave until she glances over her shoulder again, her voice low and confident.

“I don’t need luck. I’m damn good.”

SEVEN

Thalia

Of course, everyone was ready on time, and by 1 p.m. they had left for Theo’s mountain house. I had already told them that I would be running late, and Sierra, Theo, and a few others offered to wait for me. I’m pretty sure everyone would have volunteered in turn if I hadn’t mentioned in the group chat that it was fine—I could drive there on my own.

It’s almost 6 p.m., and I’m just now packing up my things at the office. I’ve finished organizing every single event; everything is perfectly in place, and I’ve managed my time down to the minute. My plan is to spend the weekend reviewing the Hartho event once more so I don’t miss even the tiniest detail.

I want Ethan to have absolutely nothing to criticize, and, for the first time, I want him to look at me without that defiant, challenging expression.

With my backpack in one hand and my thermos and phone in the other, I wave goodbye to the colleagues who are still in the office, keeping my eyes lowered so I don’t feel guilty—or worse, tempted to pity their glum expressions and offer my help.

The moment I get in the car and hit the road, my phone rings from the passenger seat. Since it’s already connected to the car, I answer immediately.

“Thalia, did you manage to leave? We’ve been here for about three hours already,” Sierra says, her voice tinged with worry.

“Yes, Ser. I just left the office. I have my bag with me, so I’m heading straight to you,” I reply, genuinely excited.

I’m really looking forward to this trip. I can’t wait to relax and have fun with my friends. We haven’t all been together in ages, even though we practically live on the same property, if you could even call such a massive estate a single property.

When Nick and the guys bought the land and built their houses and the huge yard, both Sierra and I were shocked. The place looks like a little city. As soon as you pass through the gates, it feels like stepping into another world—one where luxury and opulence rule every corner, yet the people are warm, welcoming, and kind.

“Thank God,” Sierra says, relieved. “Colt made it too, even though he didn’t answer the guys and no one knew where he was. We’re all here.” She continues, “Well, almost all. That’s actually why I called you, Ethan stayed at the office, of course, and said he’d finish around 7 p.m. Go to Hartho, and you’ll meet up with him; he’s waiting for you.”

Before I can say anything, she adds, “Love you,” and hangs up.

Ugh. Sierra.

I debate whether to drive to Hartho and travel with Ethan to the mountains, or just leave on my own. I’m still riding the high of our last interaction—small and insignificant as it may have been—and I don’t want a few hours alone in a car with him to drag me back down to reality. To the reality where he keeps ignoring me, where all the flirtation between us no longer exists.

But in the end, I choose not to invite questions. I don’t want to face the curious looks or the endless prodding about why I traveled alone when, apparently, Ethan is waiting for me.

The twenty-minute drive from my office to Hartho passes in a blur. I let the music wash over me, singing along softly, trying to chase away the relentless energy that’s been simmering inside me ever since Sierra mentioned Ethan’s name.