CHAPTER 10- ETHAN
1619 Words
Sunlight spilled softly through the half-open curtains, painting pale gold across the rumpled sheets.
Victoria stirred, her arm reaching out instinctively across the bed.
But there was no one there.
Her hand met cold fabric.
No warmth. No heartbeat. No Kelvin.
Her eyes snapped open.
The memories came in a rush—his hands on her waist, the way he kissed her like she was something fragile and burning at once. The way she gave in, her body trusting what her mind hadn’t yet caught up with.
She sat up slowly, the sheet sliding over her bare skin. The room still smelled like him—cologne and firewood, and something darker beneath. Her heart ached, confused.
Was it just lust for him? Did it mean anything at all?
On the nightstand was a folded note.
Just her name. “Victoria.” Written in his hurried scrawl.
She opened it with trembling fingers.
> I had something to do, I will call you back or see you at work.
— K.”
Her heart clenched.
What did their night mean to him?
---
Elsewhere...
Kelvin stood in front of the mirror in his private penthouse bathroom, a towel slung around his waist, water dripping from his hair. But his mind was a storm.
He gripped the sink tightly.
You shouldn’t have touched her again.
You said it’d be one night.
You told yourself she was just another beautiful woman who crossed your path.
But when he’d woken up and saw her sleeping—curled toward where he’d been, her face softened in sleep, her hair across his pillow like it belonged there—something in him shifted.
And it scared the hell out of him.
She wasn’t like the others.
She wasn’t supposed to matter.
But she did.
Damn it, he thought, slamming a hand against the sink.
His phone buzzed. He didn’t check it. He couldn’t.
---
Back at her apartment...
Victoria stared at the note again, her fingers tightening.
> “Does he think I'm easy?"
Those words swirled in her chest like smoke.
She wasn’t sure what hurt more—
That he left.
Or that part of her wanted to run after him.
....
Kelvin’s Office – 9:47 AM
The office was silent. Too silent.
Kelvin sat at the head of the long obsidian conference table, the morning light cutting sharp angles across the room. His assistant finished her report, waiting for his response.
He didn’t hear a word.
His mind was still in her apartment. On her skin. Her breathless whimpers. The way her nails had clawed lightly at his back like she was trying to hold on to something she couldn’t name.
“Sir?”
Kelvin blinked. “Repeat that last part.”
The assistant hesitated, unnerved. “The Westbridge account—should we approve the merger?”
He stared at her blankly for a moment. Then he sat back in his leather chair, jaw clenched.
“Tell them to wait.”
He dismissed everyone with a flick of his hand and stood, pacing. He hated this. This pull. This... attachment. He hadn’t let a woman get under his skin like this in years.
And yet Victoria’s scent lingered on his shirt collar.
Her voice echoed in his skull.
And her eyes—those damn eyes—haunted him.
He opened his phone. Her contact stared back at him.
He nearly called her.
But just then, his best friend and CFO, Malcolm, walked in with a coffee and an annoyingly smug expression.
“I heard you are entangled with a woman named Victoria. It was mentioned last night,” Malcolm said casually. “Funny... but she was seen having drinks with Ethan. Guy’s still obsessed with her, isn’t he?”
Kelvin’s blood turned cold.
“Ethan?” he asked slowly.
Malcolm nodded. “Childhood friend, I think. Rumor is—he’s trying again. They’ve always had some weird chemistry.”
Kelvin didn’t answer.
He just walked out of the room—without a word.
---
Victoria’s Apartment – Evening
Victoria was laughing.
It was the first time she had all day.
Ethan had come over with takeout and bad jokes. He always had this way of making the air lighter.
But even he could tell something was off.
“You seem... distracted,” he said, handing her a wine glass.
She gave him a soft look. “Rough night.”
“Want to talk about it?”
She hesitated. Then shook her head. “Not really.”
Ethan didn’t push. But he stepped closer, eyes scanning her face.
“You know, I’ve always been here, Vic,” he said quietly. “Even when he wasn't.”
Before she could respond—
There was a knock at the door.
She froze.
Ethan turned slightly, eyebrow raised. “Expecting someone?”
“No.”
She stood slowly, heart already racing.
When she opened the door—
Kelvin.
Wearing a dark coat, eyes like a storm. No smile. No hello.
His gaze swept past her... and landed on Ethan.
Victoria didn’t speak.
But Ethan did.
“Well,” he said coolly. “You must be Kelvin.”
The air tightened. Thick with territorial tension.
Kelvin’s jaw flexed. " You must be the friend who doesn’t know when to leave.”
Ethan smirked, not intimidated. “Or maybe the man who knows when to show up.”
Victoria could sense a lot of tension and stepped between them, palms up. “Guys—stop.”
But Kelvin’s eyes were locked on Ethan. Possessive. Calculating. Cold.
Victoria swallowed hard trying to comprehend what was going on.
"You should go"
Both looked at her simultaneously wondering who was meant to leave.
"Ethan please I have to talk to him, I will call you later."
The door closed behind Ethan with a soft click.
But the echo felt like a scream in the silence that followed.
Kelvin hadn’t moved. He stood just inside her apartment, coat still on, fists clenched at his sides. Victoria remained by the kitchen ,, arms folded tightly over her chest.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said quietly.
His voice was calm—but threaded with something darker. “Neither should he.”
She blinked. “Are you serious right now?”
Kelvin’s eyes locked with hers. “Dead serious.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then she laughed. Bitterly.
“You can sleep with me. Touch me. Haunt my dreams. But the moment I talk to someone else—even someone I’ve known for years—you act like you own me?”
He stepped forward slowly. “Don’t twist this—”
“I’m not twisting anything, Kelvin,” she snapped. “You can’t keep showing up like this. Like I’m yours. You don’t even know what you want.”
His jaw flexed. “That’s not true.”
“Then what do you want?” she demanded, voice cracking. “What are we? Some impulsive mistake? Something to pass your nights with until it bores you?”
He didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he moved toward her—deliberate, intense—and gently took her hand, placing it against his chest.
His heartbeat was thunder beneath her palm.
“I don’t know how to say it,” he admitted quietly. “But when I saw him here—smiling at you, looking at you like he had the right to—something snapped. I wanted to drag him out myself.”
“Because you’re jealous?” she whispered.
He looked down at her. “Because I’m scared.”
Her lips parted. “Of what?”
He leaned in, voice low, reverent. “Of needing you the way I do.”
Her breath hitched. And when his hand found her waist—slow, possessive—it was like her body betrayed her, leaning into him.
The plates in the sink behind her went forgotten as he turned her to face him fully. Their lips hovered—close, dangerously close.
“You don’t get to run after this,” she whispered.
“I’m not running,” he murmured. “Not tonight.”
And then his lips crashed into hers—raw, unapologetic, devouring.
The kiss was nothing like before.
This was war. This was surrender.
Her back hit the kitchen counter. His hands slid under her shirt, finding bare skin, tracing fire up her sides. She gasped against his mouth, and he swallowed the sound like a starving man.
“Bedroom,” she managed.
He didn’t wait.
He lifted her—effortless, like she weighed nothing—and carried her down the hall. Clothes fell. Breathless moans followed. By the time they collapsed onto the bed, there was nothing soft left between them.
No pretending.
No games.
Just two people battling everything they felt—in the only way they knew how.
And in the silence afterward, with her curled against his chest and the moonlight bleeding across her skin—
He whispered, barely audible, “Don’t fall for anyone else.”
She didn’t respond.
But her fingers curled into his chest like a promise she hadn’t yet dared to speak.
---
Meanwhile…
Outside – 10:57 PM
Ethan sat in his car, staring at the apartment window. One light was still on.
He didn’t need to see anything.
He already knew.
And it hurt.
It hurt because he had loved her longer than anyone. Because he’d watched her cry after heartbreaks and brought her coffee through every finals week.
Because she never looked at him the way she looked at Kelvin.
Ethan turned the key and pulled away from the curb, whispering to himself in the dark,
“One day... maybe she’ll see me.”
- Writer
