Mr Cold Ceo Loves Me

Ethan, my comfort

Isabella was trembling as she held onto Ethan's arm. "Wait, what about Mark? My family, my friends—what if he hurts them? I could never forgive myself," she said, her voice filled with fear.

Ethan turned to her, his eyes filled with concern. "Shhh, it's okay. Just send me everything about them, and I'll help you, I promise."

Isabella looked up at him, her eyes wide with confusion. "Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked.

Ethan chuckled softly and looked away for a moment. When he turned back to her, his gaze was intense. "Well, Isabella, because I find you beautiful, and I think you deserve better—even if it isn't with me. I want you to experience a better life, so I'm willing to help you in any way I can."

Isabella felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. Where had this sweet, handsome, kind-hearted man been all her life? She didn't know how to repay him. "Thank you so much," she whispered, her voice quivering with gratitude.

Ethan shook his head. "You don't have to," he said. "Now, let's get your bags packed. If we want to leave, we have to do it now, or else Mark will catch us."

Isabella nodded and led the way to Ethan's car. They drove in silence to her apartment, and when they arrived, Isabella felt a sense of relief wash over her. The lights were still off, and she let out a silent prayer of thanks.

As soon as they entered, the lights came on, and Mark was there, looking disheveled and drunk. "Where have you been?" he slurred, glaring at Isabella. "And who is this?" he asked, pointing to Ethan.

Isabella felt her heart rate spike, and she stumbled over her words. "I-I," she stammered, her anxiety heightening.

As she stood there, trembling with fear, Ethan stepped in front of her, shielding her from Mark's wrath. "I think you should leave, Mark," Ethan said, his voice calm but firm.

"No, I don't think I will," Mark slurred, taking a step closer to them. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm a friend of Isabella's," Ethan replied, his tone unyielding. "And I think it's time for you to go."

Mark sneered, his eyes flickering with anger. "Stay out of this, buddy. This has nothing to do with you."

"It does now," Ethan retorted. "Isa, go back and pack your bags."

Isabella nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as she made her way to the bedroom. She quickly grabbed her bags and important documents, her mind racing with worry for Ethan. She could hear the grunts and muffled screams coming from the living room, and she felt a pang of guilt for dragging Ethan into this mess.

She managed to get her stuff out to the car and hurried back inside to find Ethan and Mark still going at it. Mark was coming toward her, his fists raised, when Ethan stepped in and landed a punch that sent Mark sprawling to the ground.

"You're nothing," Mark spat, struggling to get back on his feet. "Even your parents didn't love you—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Ethan was on him again, his fists flying. Isabella couldn't stand there and watch anymore. She ran over and grabbed Ethan's arm, pulling him back. "Let's just go," she begged, tears streaming down her face. "Please, Ethan."

Ethan looked at her, his eyes filled with concern. He nodded, and they made their way to the door, with Mark hurling threats and insults at them.

Once they were in the car, Isabella couldn't stop shaking. Ethan reached over and took her hand, his touch warm and comforting. "It's okay," he said softly. "We're okay now."

She nodded, still too shaken to speak. Ethan started driving, and after a while, she began to calm down. She looked over at him, taking in his strong jawline, his piercing blue eyes, and his muscular build. She felt a sudden surge of gratitude toward him, amazed at how he had come into her life just when she needed him the most.

They pulled up to Ethan's house, and he helped her carry her bags inside. They both went straight to the bathroom and started cleaning up, washing away the blood and grime from the fight. As Isabella watched Ethan in the mirror, she noticed the purple and blue bruises forming on his knuckles and the side of his face. Despite everything, he was still there for her, and it made her feel both grateful and heartbroken.

They sat down in the living room, and the conversation flowed easily. It felt incredibly comforting to talk to someone who truly listened and cared. For the first time in a long time, Isabella didn't feel like a disappointment. She was able to share her fears and vulnerabilities without judgment, and it was a relief.

"Don't worry about it, hmm?" Ethan said, breaking the silence.

"But you're hurt because of me," Isabella replied, her voice heavy with guilt.

"Hey, I will continue to protect you again and again, hmm," he reassured her, his voice gentle yet resolute.

"I don't know what to say. I don't know how to repay you."

"You don't need to, okay? I'm serious about it," Ethan said, his tone firm but kind. "Just focus on yourself right now."

"Thank you," Isabella whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.

Ethan shook his head, a small, reassuring smile on his face. "You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad I could be here for you. We’ll get through this together."

Isabella felt a wave of gratitude and relief wash over her. She was still processing everything that had happened, but with Ethan's support, she felt a newfound sense of hope.

They continued to talk for hours about everything and nothing. The warmth of his presence was a balm for her wounded soul. It was the kind of comfort she hadn’t felt in years, and for the first time, she began to believe that maybe, just maybe, she could start to rebuild her life.

As the night wore on, they shared stories, laughed about little things, and found solace in each other's company. It was a night she would always treasure—the night that she found a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.

Even though Mark had hurt her deeply, Isabella knew that with Ethan by her side, she was stronger than she ever thought possible. She felt ready to face whatever came next, knowing she wasn’t alone.