Ethan Cutkosky Dead Novels & Stories

“That’s not the word I’d use.” She smiled, and when she leaned forward again, the neckline of her uniform dipped just enough to draw his eye; despite himself, the soft curve of her breasts was on show. The TV played in the background. He was keeping an eye on it, trying to catch a glimpse of Marisol, Vince, or Lorenzo. Right now, a reporter was commenting on the famous guest list of the rich and powerful. The funeral of Chad Vale was a media circus. Ethan hadn’t cared about the kid when he was alive, and he didn’t care now. He found the whole thing disrespectful. He just wanted to lay eyes on Marisol, see that she was ok.

"Hey, what are you guys doing? Did I miss something?" Ethan chuckled, then shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "Uncle Chuck and I were talking about the dead guy we found last night. The situation is terrible. It's embarrassing!" Ethan held his own head, then shook his head in disbelief. "I hope I wasn't recorded by someone else. My face must be really ugly." Uncle Chuck tapped Ethan on the shoulder, he made a mocking face as he said, "I should have taken a picture of you. We can stick your pale, zombie-like face on the wall. The buyers will love it."

He not only lost his wife but his daughter too. All of them said their eulogy. Mr Polinski decided not to say anything about her. His thinking was, “This wasn’t the time when they say goodbye”. She was still here with him and always will be till his last breath. And we all respected that. As worse as funerals go, this was rather a beautiful one. At least I know she’s somewhere safe. After the ceremony, I looked around and saw Jonathan getting out of his car. “Jonathan?” Ethan was standing right beside me. He wasn’t pleased that Jonathan was here, but it wasn’t a place you actually command someone not to meet the other one.

It was deathly silent in here, and I made my way forward and leaned against the cell opposite Ethan, hearing him sigh and turn to me, looking at me in shame. "You do realize that killing Lucas wasn't much of a peace offering?" I told him, a little offended that he thought that killing the scientist would make up for what he had put me and Kacie through. "It was worth trying," Ethan spoke, and I grimaced, his voice hoarse. I wondered if he had been crying. Probably not. He struggled to show emotion since his mate died.

Jakes responded with a rehearsed anguish that made my stomach churn. Mr. Jakes, the man responsible for the chaos that had chanced us, had maneuvered his way into becoming the new CEO of Ethan's company. Mr. Jakes, can you tell us the details of Ethan's death? It must have been a tough one for you. Mr. Jakes, can you tell us the details of Ethan's death? It must have been a tough one for you. Mr. Jakes, pretending sadness, “Yes, it's been devastating for our family. Ethan, my only son, met with an unfortunate accident, and it has been an inconceivable loss.”

I stared at my phone for a moment longer as I wondered what I was going to do now. “Who was it?” Ethan asked and iet out a loud sigh. “It was from the council in Minnesota,” I informed him and his brows immediately scrunched. “What's wrong? The rogues are getting stronger?” He questioned and I ran a hand over my face as I wondered how to break the news to him. “Steve is dead,” I announced and Ethan immediately stiffened. “They said he died while fighting the rogues. The right army is getting stronger each day-” I narrated but Ethan suddenly exploded and before I could comprehend what was happening I felt the air being knocked out of me as Ethan punched me right in the gut with all his streng

His face was a blanket of sorrow. His eyes dimmed, his throat moved, and in that moment, we all knew something terrible was coming. “What happened, doctor?” Cleo asked frantically, unable to wait another second. “Ethan suffered a traumatic fall,” the doctor said. “We tried everything we could, but he didn’t make it. He died the instant he fell.” I turned away, marching off to the corner of the room. I bit the inside of my mouth, hurting myself as I faced the wall.

"You hated him. You had every right to hate him." Silence stretched between them, filled with the distant sound of string quartet and polite conversation. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, but no less dangerous. "Yes, I did. But that doesn't mean I wished him dead." "He killed himself." The admission felt like ripping off a bandage, quick and brutal. "Three months after your father's company went under. He couldn't live with what he'd done." Ethan's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "And now you're here. At my party. Wearing a dress that costs more than most people make in a month and stealing food like some kind of"

He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. A pause. “He’s gone.” The words echoed. Lisha didn’t move. Didn’t react. Just stared. Ethan Cross— The man who controlled everything. The man who feared nothing. Was dead. Just like that. And in that moment no one noticed the glass of wine still trembling slightly in Lisha’s hand or the quiet storm behind her eyes. Because while the world saw shock Lisha felt something else entirely.

Daniel said, whose face also looked confused. The doctor seemed to want to explain further, but Xavier immediately understood that Ethan's vomiting of blood was not related to medical issues. "All right, that's enough! You can go," Xavier said. A moment later, Xavier rushed into Ethan's hospital room with Joss. The young man, who was not yet 25 years old, was asleep. His face looked pale, which made them very worried. While Ethan was still fast asleep, the two men sat on the waiting sofa. Joss remembered his king's words, and said, "Sir, Mr. Ethan said that the woman cannot see his tattoo. Do you think Mr. Ethan trusts us?"