Page 20 of Possessive CEO

Mel nudges me with her elbow and motions to Ethan with her chin. “You love him, huh?”

Smiling, I continue staring at him. “What do you know about love? You’re barely a teen.”

“Right. You should see your face whenever you look at him. With hearts in your eyes. Face as red as tomato.”

I slap her knee playfully. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“My babies. Oh, my babies!” Mom cries as she steps out of a black sedan and runs to us, shawl around her shoulders and clutching a handkerchief.

Tears are rolling down her cheeks as she takes each of us in, touching our faces, running her fingers through our hair. “Oh, my God. When Ethan called, I was crazy scared. That bastard Janus! I should’ve known he was good for nothing. I’m so sorry, girls. God. How can I live with myself? I’ve put you in danger again!”

Mel and I take each of Mom’s hands and rub them on our cheeks. When she gets hysterical like this, she’ll likely descend into depression the next day, so we do our best to soothe her. It’s not her fault. She dated Janus for just a month before his crazy became too obvious. But by then, he knew enough of our lives. He manipulated me and Mom into giving him money, threatening Mel.

“No, Mom. It’s not your fault. He’s a psycho. But it’s all good now. Ethan took care of it,” I tell her, rubbing her back to calm her down.

“E-Ethan? Where is he?” Mom sniffs and looks around.

Ethan must have heard us because he nods to the officers and walks toward us in long strides. Even with so many watching, including Mom and Mel, he pulls me to him and kisses the top of my head. The air between us changes, and everyone else starts mumbling excuses to leave us alone.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” he asks.

I smile, “You’ve asked me that a thousand times already. No. I’m fine. You?”

“I’m alright, baby girl. I know the Chief of Police and he personally called me to say he’ll make sure the bastard stays in jail.”

After years of enduring his threats and blackmails, living in constant fear of being found, being terrorized with one text, one call, it’s done. It’s over. It’s finally over. And all because of Ethan. My hero. My savior. My Daddy.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, baby girl,” he responds huskily, eyes hazy with desire.

“I love you. I love you so much.”

His face softens, but his grip on me tightens a bit. “I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.”

Something warm blooms in my chest, almost too much to take. “Let’s go home, Daddy.”

* * *

Three months later,I find my hands full. I went back to college to earn my degree in business administration. After what happened with Janus, Ethan admitted that the cafe was actually mine—under my name! At first, I was shocked, too shocked that I could only stare at him, unable to wrap my head around the fact that I own a business. Later, I realized it shouldn’t have been a surprise. It’s so Ethan. He’s always leaving surprises for me. I keep telling him not to spoil me, but he never listens.

I once said in passing about never tasting deep-dish pizza, and he flew me to Chicago an hour later. He saw me get off the taxi after visiting Mom and Mel, and he brought me to a car dealership the following morning.

His generosity knows no bounds. And no matter how busy he is, he always makes time for me. He’s made it a rule in his office that unless it’s a life-or-death situation, they should never contact him past 5 PM.

“You ready, baby girl?” he calls from the living room.

I zip my suitcase and double-check how I look in the full-length mirror right beside my bedroom room. “All set!”

Ethan is waiting beside the oversize pink sofa I forced him to buy last weekend. I had it replace the old black leather Chesterfield. He didn’t budge until I promised to let him do everything he wants to me on it. He even gave the salesman a little extra if he could have it delivered within the day.

Ethan’s standing with his hands shoved inside his pockets. He’s ditched the suit for something more comfortable—a pair of dark pants and a Henley shirt. Even in simple clothes, he looks like he belongs on the billboard.

“You’re beautiful, baby girl. Have I ever told you that?”

“At least twenty times a day, but who’s counting?” I say, looping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He lifts me easily, like I weigh nothing.

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