Page 62 of Ethan: The Untouchable CEO

For once, I intend to keep it that way.

These few hours—rare, uninterrupted, mine—aren’t getting wasted on pointless exchanges or half-hearted distractions.

I lean into the couch, letting the night settle around me, steady and quiet, exactly the way I need it.

Because I know one thing for certain—next week won’t offer anything close to this.

TWENTY-FIVE

Thalia

Theo and I are the last to arrive at the airport, because of me, obviously. I was too tired to finish packing last night, and this morning I forgot to change my alarm, so I woke up exactly at the time I was supposed to leave, not get ready.

Thankfully, Theo helped me throw the rest of my things into the suitcase, following the checklist I keep in my phone for every trip.

Everyone else is already on the jet, one of many with HARTHO painted on the side, of course. Sometimes I still can’t believe this is my life now. I may not have the money for this kind of luxury, but somehow I’m living a life I never would’ve dared to dream of before.

“Finally. We’ve been waiting for you for almost an hour,” Liam says, throwing a pointed look at Theo.

“Not my fault, man,” Theo answers simply, giving me a quick wink before dropping into one of the empty seats beside Colt.

“I fell asleep last night while I was packing, sorry,” I explain, looking around for a seat, preferably one far from them all.

But my gaze stops for a few seconds when it lands on Ethan.

He doesn’t even look at me.

He’s seated by the window, posture relaxed, one arm resting against the armrest while the other holds his phone to his ear. Dressed in a black designer tracksuit that fits him like it was made for him, a matching cap pulled low over his eyes, and a watch at his wrist that probably costs more than my salary for several years, he looks… unreal. Effortless. Dangerous in that quiet, controlled way that never asks for attention but gets it anyway.

Absolutely stunning.

And completely uninterested.

His attention stays fixed outside the window, voice low as he speaks into the phone, calm and detached, like whatever conversation he’s having matters more than anything—or anyone—around him.

And I can’t help but wonder—who’s he talking to? His girlfriend, maybe? I half expected her to come on this trip too.

I look away quickly, pretending I was never staring in the first place, and walk toward the back of the plane to sit as far away as possible.

Sierra’s asleep with her head resting on Nick’s shoulder while he watches a hockey game on his tablet. Most of the others are asleep too, which isn’t surprising since it’s barely six in the morning. That’s exactly what I plan to do now—sleep for a bit, and then finally start the book I downloaded weeks ago but never had time to open.

I wake up six hours later, eat some fruits, and immediately fall asleep again. I guess all those sleepless nights, especially lately, with everything that’s been happening between me and Ethan, are finally catching up to me. I didn’t think I was this exhausted, but apparently, I was wrong.

Now we’re preparing for landing, so I fasten my seatbelt and pull out my phone to take a few pictures. The view below is breathtaking—endless shades of blue, sun shimmering on the water like scattered glass.

I have no idea where we are; the maps on the tablets on board are locked, and of course, that has Ryan written all over it. All I can tell is that we’ve been flying for around nine hours, judging by the time.

“Ready to have some fun?” Colt asks, stretching lazily.

“Fuck, yeah,” Nick replies, fastening Sierra’s seatbelt before brushing a kiss on her temple.

“I don’t know what plans you all have for this week,” Zayn says with a grin that can only mean trouble, “but don’t expect to get too much sleep.”

Not surprising at all, considering he organized the entire trip. Knowing Zayn, very few people actually know the destination.

“So can you finally tell us where we’re going?” Ethan’s voice cuts through the noise—calm, a little impatient, but not half as enthusiastic as the rest.

When I fell asleep, he was glued to his laptop. Now, as I glance over, he still is. I doubt he’s slept at all. Typical Ethan. The man is practically a machine. If I hadn’t experienced it myself, I’d probably have believed he could work even while having sex. But I know better.