Chapter 7 - The Declaration
That evening, a heavy storm rolled over Lake Washington, sending sheets of cold rain crashing against the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the estate's private lounge.
Amy had fallen fast asleep in her bedroom after a long day of playing.
Sophie sat on the large velvet sofa in the lounge, holding a hot cup of chamomile tea in her hands, watching the lightning flash across the dark water outside.
The double doors clicked open, and Ethan walked into the room.
He had removed his suit jacket, his crisp white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his dark sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing his muscular, tattoo-inked arms. He held two crystal tumblers of scotch in his hand.
He walked over and sat down beside her on the deep sofa, handing her one of the glasses.
“You should drink this,” Ethan murmured gently. “It helps with the rain.”
Sophie took the glass, setting her tea aside, looking at the golden amber liquid. She took a small sip, feeling the warm fire spread through her chest.
“Thank you, Ethan,” she whispered. “For what you said to Victoria today.”
“I meant every word,” Ethan replied, leaning his arm against the back of the sofa, his eyes fixed entirely on her face.
Silence fell between them—not a tense, uncomfortable silence, but a heavy, electric quiet filled with unspoken desires and deep, dangerous emotions.
Sophie looked up into his cold blue eyes, which were now burning with a soft, intense heat she had never seen before.
“Ethan...” Sophie asked softly, her voice trembling slightly. “What happens when Moretti is gone? Do we... do we just go back to our old lives?”
Ethan leaned closer to her, the rich scent of cedar and rain enveloping her completely.
“You are never going back to your old life, Sophie,” Ethan said, his deep baritone dropping into a husky rumble. “I will never let you clean another floor. I will never let you worry about rent, or medicine, or safety ever again.”
“Ethan... I can't just take your charity forever—”
“It isn't charity,” Ethan interrupted, his long, warm hand reaching out, sliding behind her neck, his thumb gently resting against her rapid pulse point.
Sophie froze, her breath catching in her throat, her eyes widening as his face drew closer to hers.
“Then what is it?” she breathed.
“It’s possession, Sophie,” Ethan whispered, his blue eyes flashing with an absolute, undeniable hunger. “From the moment your daughter walked into my office with that piece of toast... you became mine. Both of you.”
Before Sophie could process his words, Ethan leaned down and captured her lips with his own.
The kiss was deep, powerful, and overwhelming—a sudden explosion of raw, pent-up passion that shattered every lingering doubt in Sophie’s mind.
Sophie let out a soft gasp against his mouth, her fingers tangling frantically into his dark hair, pulling him closer, surrendering completely to the fierce, protective warmth of his embrace.
Ethan wrapped his massive arm around her waist, pulling her small body flush against his chest, kissing her with an intense, possessive devotion that made her world spin out of control.
When he finally pulled back slightly, their foreheads resting together, both of them breathing heavily in the dim light of the fireplace.
“You are coming with me to the Syndicate Gala tomorrow night,” Ethan murmured against her lips.
May you like
Sophie blinked, her heart pounding. “The Gala? But... all the powerful bosses will be there...”
“Good,” Ethan growled possessively, kissing her cheek softly. “I want every boss in North America to see who rules this city beside me.”
