Page 30 of Ethan: The Untouchable CEO

“Thank you. Honestly, even I’m impressed.”

And it’s true. The place looks like something out of a fairy world—every corner carefully thought out, every small detail fitting into the bigger picture so perfectly that the final result somehow turned out even better than the one I imagined when we first started planning this event.

“Shall we get this party started?” Theo asks, appearing beside Chase with a grin that stretches from one ear to the other.

From the moment I met him, I realized how easygoing he was, how good-natured. But over time, I discovered that beneath that relaxed exterior is a person even more open and sociable than I initially thought.

I only know part of the story that made him suggest the fake relationship between us, but when he first confessed the situation, I accepted without hesitation. I’ve always liked to believe I can read people very quickly, that I can tell when someone’s intentions are genuine.

And with Theo, my instincts weren’t wrong.

“Are you all here already?” I ask in mild surprise, my gaze drifting toward the front of the room.

The Hardy and Thomas brothers are gathered there, talking among themselves.

All of them, except Ethan. Yes, that Ethan.

The man I shamelessly rubbed myself against until I came, only to run away without saying a single word.

Ever since we returned home, I’ve somehow managed to avoid him completely. Though I still can’t decide whether that’s because he’s been avoiding me too… or simply because he’s been too busy.

Irina, on the other hand, I know for a fact I’ve been avoiding intentionally.

I haven’t answered a single one of her calls in the past few days, always replying hours later with some pathetic excuse about being busy or in the middle of planning meetings. Whether she believed me or not, I honestly have no idea, but she never gave the impression that she suspected anything.

Whatever was left to organize for the event, I only passed on to her through official emails, keeping the interaction as formal—and as distant—as possible.

The truth is, I feel terrible about what happened. Because Ethan is in a relationship.

And for half an hour, I let myself become the other woman.

Hours slip by almost unnoticed, the regular hum of music, laughter, and clicking glasses blending into a rhythm that makes time feel irrelevant, as if the entire evening exists in its own little universe, separate from the world outside these walls.

Only moments ago, we were handing out prizes for the first contest—the bowling competition—and now the energy in the room has transformed, anticipation building almost tangibly in the air as we prepare for the final event of the night.

The Barbie costume parade.

“Thalia, go change,” Sierra’s voice brushes against my ear as she suddenly appears beside me, her presence as bold and unapologetic as always.

I turn toward her—and for a second, I genuinely don’t know whether to whistle or stare.

She’s wearing a pale pink dress that clings tightly to her breasts before cutting away completely at the midsection, leaving her stomach bare, the two pieces of fabric connected by nothing more than a narrow strip of gray metal that gleams under the light.

The dress is dangerously short, ending just beneath her ass, while on her legs she wears thick-heeled, thigh-high boots in the exact same shade of pink, the whole look walking a fine line between daring and outright scandalous.

“I don’t know, Sierra,” I murmur back, lowering my voice as a tight knot of uncertainty twists in my stomach. “This doesn’t seem like such a good idea.”

“Holy fuck, what the hell are you wearing, Sierra?” Nick’s voice cuts in abruptly, loud and completely unfiltered, his reaction so immediate it almost startles me.

I glance toward him just in time to see the exact moment his expression morphs—from confusion, to disbelief, to something dangerously close to outrage—as his gaze roams slowly over her body.

“No way. Go change into what you had on five minutes ago.”

He stands stiff for half a second, jaw slack, before striding toward her in long, purposeful steps, his entire posture tensing with every movement.

“It’s just a costume, Nick,” she replies, rolling her eyes as if his reaction is nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

Nick drags a hand down his face, exhaling sharply, and even from where I’m standing, I can feel the tension radiating off him.