Ethan Fair 소설 & 이야기

Teresa murmured. After hearing her remarks, I burst out laughing. I saw Ethan concentrating on his book. But I might argue that his focus was not on the book and that he was thinking about something else. He was a reserved person. We were familiar with each other. Not only was my father his father's beta, but he was also his father's closest buddy. But Ethan had a past. Ethan was not the son of our current Alpha, Neil Iversen. He was the son of Alpha Neil's brother, Evan Iversen.

He wanted to make it his secret hideaway. “Carter won't stop talking about how his mares are going to love the mountain air and how he wants to add an arena for training or something like that.” He took a sip of wine. “I just smile and nod, and it makes him happy.” Laura chuckled. “You know Mr. Williamson?” The man nodded. “I work with him at the California offices.” He smiled and held out a hand. “I'm Ethan, by the way.” “Laura,” she said, taking the handshake. It was firm and strong, much like she imagined him to be under that suit. She liked the way her hand felt in his and was almost sad when they had to end the handshake.

TINA Ethan is my closest cousin. My relationship with Ethan is nothing compared to what I have with Ryan. Ethan understands and never judges me. His cheerful personality is what endeared him to me the most. He always understands and always offers me advice. I can recall the day I told him about my relationship with Lucas, he had asked to Facetime with him and his reply after speaking with Lucas wasn’t a pleasant one. I can clearly recall his words when he called me later that day after speaking to Lucas.

Lizeth asked. “Now, you’re going crazy” James laughed. “You have to believe me. Fairies still exist. Anyway, just tell me what happened” Lizeth said. “There was no fairy, babe” he said in between chunks of sizzling laughter. “It is possible!” Lizeth argued. “Fine! Let’s assume that you are right” James said to avoid further arguments. “So, as soon as the priest called the couple…” James’ phone pinged. He was certain that it was a business notification. “Sorry, babe…I have to get this. Its business” he apologised and took the phone. Lizeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

I stared forward, looking at the person that stood in front of me, a person really dear to me. Ethan was dressed in a white suit that made him look so handsome. His hair was slicked back, making him look like those mafia bosses from Italy. He stretched out his hands and pulled me gently away from Mrs. Thompson’s. I walked and stood in front of him, with a pastor standing in front of us.

It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t going to stand. As I stopped at a red light, an idea came to me. Ethan. Ethan was John’s best friend and a damned good lawyer, the best in all of New York City. He wasn’t just sharp, he was ruthless, the kind of guy who could bend the law to his will. If anyone could help me contest the will, it was him. I hit the call button, and Ethan picked up after the second ring. “Ethan Blake speaking, who's this?” He responded, obviously not knowing who was on the line.

“Killian Cole Stone. Billionaire, boardroom tyrant, breaker of global records. And yet, somehow manages to dress like a catalog ad.” “Killian turned, grinning for the first time that day. “Ethan?” Ethan Caldwell, Killian’s best friend from childhood, sauntered in. All ease and charisma, dressed in a navy open-collar shirt and jeans. He spread his arms wide.’ “Surprise,” Ethan said. “Heard about your latest win. Figured that was my excuse to leave the European chaos and come breathe real air again.” Killian crossed the room and pulled him into a brief hug. “When did you get back?”

“Ethan’s not chaos. He’s...Ah…lively.” “Lively?” I snorted. “That’s an understatement. Are we talking about the same guy who thought it was hilarious to fill my shoes with mayonnaise? It squelched. Squelched, Mr. Wright.” Mr. Wright laughed, low and warm, leaning back on his elbows. “You make it sound like I signed up for a prison sentence. Ethan’s a good guy. A bit... colorful, sure, but solid.” “Colorful? That’s generous,” I muttered. “ He is the one who thought it was hilarious to replace my shampoo with glitter gel? My hair sparkled for weeks.”

“Did you look for me after you regained your memory?” Ethan chuckled lightly, but there was no humor in it. “If I didn’t look for you, Lauren, why am I here with you?” She slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. “Who really are you, Ethan?” He rolled his eyes and took another bite. “I’m Ethan Whitmore.” She cleared her throat. “So… you found your father. And now he’s the famous businessman, Raymond Whitmore.” He nodded, smirking faintly. “Sounds good, huh?”

The cold glass feels good against my palm, and I take a long sip… bubbles burn my throat, but it’s better than the tightness that’s been building there all day. “Not a fan of champagne?” I turn to find Ethan standing beside me, his bass guitar resting against his hip. He’s shed the velvet jacket, leaving him in just the white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms dusted with dark hair. “I’m not a fan of parties,” I say, taking another sip. “Or surprises. Or people who think they can fix things by buying expensive dresses and big cakes.” “Fair enough.” He grins, taking a flute from the tray as the waiter passes by again. “Though for the record, I think the cake is a waste