Ethan Cutkosky 2024 Novels & Stories

“Today’s meeting is for you to familiarize yourself with President Lancaster before she officially arrives.” Following Dakota’s orders, Reid no longer addressed her as “Commander” publicly. Still— The respect in his tone remained impossible to hide Ethan instantly straightened. “Understood.” Then he quickly turned toward Dakota again. Despite the disbelief buried deep inside him, his attitude remained respectful. “President Lancaster.” He extended a hand politely. “My name is Ethan Cole. I’m the acting general manager of K Group Kingsland.” He smiled professionally. “From now on, I’ll personally handle your schedule and operational support.”

Ethan, a man seemingly assembled from spreadsheets and bad intentions, straightened on the screen. “Since we’re all here,” he said, his CFO smile as slick as a marble tabletop, “let me do this properly.” I reached for the bottle of mineral water in front of me. The glass was cold against my fingers. I needed something cold before my old instincts told me to throw a stylus at someone’s forehead. “Arabella,” Ethan went on, “this is Zachary de Sanctis. Principal behind the acquisition, chairman and controlling owner of Casa de Sanctis.”

Cassidy breathed, confident he had nothing to back up his claim, “I did not want to be mean and have respected you long enough, please stop this.” “I may have gone after you but I already left you to your wife, she can have your scarred self. You can also walk now so that's a plus for both of you.” “Ahhh, an attempt on my self esteem? Sorry to disappoint you.” He turned to walk to the podium, escorted by Arnold and Bruce as they prevented the reporters from approaching. Ethan faced the audience, “A pleasant afternoon to everyone, I apologize for the commotion but unfortunately, it won't be ending soon.”

She scrambled for her phone as he slammed the conference room door. Minutes later, she tiptoed in with refreshments, stealing glances at Ethan's thunderous expression before fleeing. The team filed in, laughing and chatting until they noticed Ethan's face. The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. "So, how was the gala?" Gary Kaon, president of McQueen Construction, grinned obliviously. "Did you meet Dream Inc's hound? I heard she's quite the beauty, haha..." His laugh died as Ethan's glare could have melted steel.

I said quietly. “Postpone?” Mom looked horrified. “Honey, all those people are already at the venue. The flowers, the catering, the musicians…everything’s ready.” “But I don’t have a proper dress—” Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway, interrupting my protest. Everyone turned toward the door as a familiar figure filled the doorway. Ethan stood there in his perfectly tailored black tuxedo, looking like he stepped off the cover of a magazine. His dark eyes took in the scene…the destroyed dress, Emma’s tear-streaked face, Mom hovering protectively, the general chaos of my bedroom.

As my turn comes, Ethan gets busy with some drawings that a staff gave him. They suggested to highlight my hairs but I didn't wanted to experiment anything. So I just got haircut. I make sure that my hairs are neither too short nor too long in length. And in the end it reaches to the little lower to the middle of my back with slight curls at the end. Ethan kisses my hairs after he looks at me. His hairs are dark brown color just like Lucas. We come back to house and start decorating the backyard with floral arrangements. Some of Emma's co-workers helps us too.

somehow, he knew I was hiding something underneath it. "I am trying to study," I hissed, leaning forward. "This is a group project. You are not in the group. You aren't even a student. You are a grown man, an executive at a multi-billion dollar company, sitting in a university library annoying undergraduates. Don't you have a job?" "I'm on a break," Ethan said smoothly. "And technically, I'm supervising. Lance needs guidance." "I really don't," Lance muttered into his hoodie, looking miserable. "I was doing fine."

A tall guy stepped in, dark hair, sharp jaw, confident posture, and stopped short when he saw Elias. “Oh shit, sorry,” the guy said, raising both hands. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I thought the room was empty.” Elias steadied himself against the wall, heart still racing from the surprise. “It’s fine. I was just heading out.” The guy smiled, a little sheepish but warm. “I’m Ethan. Ethan Voss. New here. Just transferred in for figure skating training.” Elias blinked, recognition clicking slowly. “Vera mentioned you. I’m Elias. Elias Noir.”

“Ethan didn’t just buy the rights. He authorized liquidation of your father’s estate three days after the funeral. He didn’t save you from poverty. He created it so he could be the one to rescue you.” “That son of a bitch,” Kai breathed. The front lounge door swung open. We jumped, nearly tipping the laptop. Ethan stood there, calm, crisp in white. “You two look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said, voice a smooth, terrifying purr. “Everything alright with Charleston prep? Anya, you look flushed.” “Just a heated debate about the encore,” I said, shutting the laptop. “Kai thinks he can play Chopin with a wrist that’s still sore. I told him he’s being a prima donna.”

He continued staring ahead, him mood dampening more, he stood stiffly as she reached up to kiss his cheek, and just when her lips was close enough he turned his headbthr other side just enough that she missed, her lips brushing against the fabric of his shirt instead. She pulled back slightly, unfazed, and murmured, "It’s an honor to have you here, Mr. Caruso," her voice dripping sweetness like it would cover the fact she’d just been brushed off. Lucas gave her a look that made it very clear he wasn’t impressed or interested. Ethan, clearly used to the theatrics, barely blinked as he told them, "I want lights in here in a minute," He ordered. "And he has a wife, Natasha. Atleast that's what