Ethan Winters Daughter Novels & Stories

My chest rose and fell in short, sharp breaths. A sinking, hollow pain tore through me. Not because Ethan had been perfect, far from it but because nobody deserved to die like that. Not even Ethan. “Where is she?” I finally managed, my voice trembling. “Where is Dawn?” “Inside,” he replied. “In the living room. She… she didn’t take it well.” Of course, she didn’t. How could she? “How did she…” I felt my throat closing. “Is she alone? “Your daughter is fine,” he cut in quickly. “We made sure she is.

the young woman complained. She was Ethan's daughter, Christina Jackson. The earlier young beauty immediately spoke up. "Christina, look at the times we're living in. Being able to eat at all is already a blessing. Don't be so picky." Her name was Jennifer Cohan. Naturally, she wasn't Christina's biological mother—she was her stepmother. It wasn't that Ethan had been unfaithful. His first wife had died of illness, and he remarried soon after. The problem was this—

No one knew the anonymous packages were already on their way. The packages arrived at noon. One for each guest. They opened the boxes, confused, and found them stuffed with photos and documents. The photos told a chilling story. Ten-year-old Sera pushing her sister into a pool and standing on the edge watching her struggle. Another set of photos showed Sera's real life over the years. Nightclubs. Alcohol. A man she supported in secret. She was not doing business in Europe. She was throwing money away.

Now she had a five-year-old daughter. A daughter with no father listed anywhere in her records. “Lucas.” I looked up. Ethan was studying me carefully. “What are you thinking?” I hesitated. Because saying it out loud sounded ridiculous. Then again, most things involving Natalie had sounded ridiculous over the last five years. “I think I need to meet her daughter.” Ethan stared at me. For several seconds, he didn’t say a word. Then he laughed. A full, uncontrollable laugh that made me wonder whether I wanted to fire him or punch him. Or both.

“It was a bit hit or miss that you would live at one point.” “I am grateful to you all. Wait, there was a girl.” I hope she is okay. She risked herself for me. She walks into the room, casually eating an apple. “Thank you, all of you. You saved my life. I am Ethan.” The witch tells me her name is Mille; the girl is her daughter Caren and the boy is called Parker.

Why would he partner with a company that was responsible for the deaths of people? I sighed. Rich people's problems. I clicked the search bar and typed ‘Ethan Wolfe’s children’ The only thing that popped up was in writing. No photos. Ethan Wolfe and his late wife Emma Marie Wolfe had two children before her passing in 2015. August Wolfe. And Elena Wolfe. So August had a sister. And his mum was dead. There was no picture. Not public sightings. Nothing. Why was he so mysterious? I could not shake this feeling of someone’s eyes drilling holes into the back of my head.

She kisses my cheek before leaving, “Don't worry about it. I will see Layla and Nathan now.” My insides twist with nerves; there is no way I am leaving here without seeing Layla. Jackson won't be returning from the Alpha meeting for another couple of days; Nathan will have time to send scouts out to meet him. There is no doubt in my mind Jackson will bring a majority of his warriors with him once he picks up my scent and tracks it. I am deep in thought and don't hear the door open when the wolf scent of lilies and fresh peppermint fills the room. My heart stops. I turn slowly and see my daughter for the first time in eight years.

I watched as Drake’s expression changed Drake looked towards Ethan and attacked him with words. “What are you doing here? You really have the nerve to show up. How do we know you were not the one who kidnapped her?” Drake said “stop it,” I said quickly If I didn’t stop their fight, Drake would not likely expose the fact that Aria is Ethan’s daughter. Ethan took that as his sign to leave, and I offered to walk him, but he refused, and I thanked him for all his efforts.

Just then, our daughter ran out of her room. "Mommy, when are we leaving?" she asked innocently. "Didn't we say we were going on a trip?" The air froze. Ethan's gaze flickered to the suitcase behind me. "A trip?" he sneered, his eyes flicking to the suitcase behind me. "Running to Julian?" Ethan didn’t roar. He didn't explode. He just went still. A terrifying, predatory calm. He even calmly adjusted his cuffs before walking slowly toward us.

He ran down the stairs so quickly he practically toppled his mother. "Mom, you look great." He said and he meant it. Catherine wore a navy blue floor length dress with just the slightest of sparkle. Somehow the dress, or her son's compliment seemed to make her olive eyes sparkle with just the slightest hint of gold. "Mom, can you do me a huge favor?" Ethan asked. He continued on before she could answer, "Can you let Emma know I decided to drive myself to the party so I can hang out with the guys after?"