Chapter 13: He’s Always Been There
2560words
It was Ethan.
He had stopped Olivia's hand from hitting me.
And my waist was encircled by his arm—I hadn't noticed when he had pulled me into his embrace.
“You dare lay a hand on her?”
Ethan's face was dark, his eyes deep, his words cold as ice. As he spoke, his grip on Olivia's hand tightened.
"Let go of me!"
Olivia cried out in pain, slapping at his hand, while her servant hurried forward to intervene.
Ethan ignored them, looking down at me, crying like a pear blossom in rain.
Strange—his eyes, cold as ice just moments ago, now seemed to hold some warmth as I looked at them.
I was stunned, and it took me a while to pull his hand back.
"She's pregnant. Don't bother with her."
Only then did Ethan slowly release his grip.
Olivia recognized the man before her and retreated several steps in fear.
"Mr. West..."
"So, who were you calling a 'random man' just now?"
His gaze was sharp, cold as ice as he looked at Olivia.
Olivia still hadn't understood what was happening, blinded by anger, and blurted out:
"Alia is just a slut! She slept with another man before breaking up with her boyfriend..."
"SLAP!"
This slap came from Ethan.
He hit a woman!
The surrounding air seemed to freeze.
Olivia held her face, finally realizing that he was that "random man"!
"Get out. Don't let me hear your voice again."
Ethan didn't look at her, carefully wiping the tears from the corners of my eyes, caressing my reddened cheek.
Olivia knew she was in the wrong and didn't dare cause more trouble. Holding her swollen face, she hurried away.
I didn't know what to do.
"Does it hurt?"
"..."
I steadied myself, wanting to escape his embrace, but he held me tighter.
"Have you been checked yet?"
He was gentle, his eyes warm too.
I lowered my head, my heart pounding, my face flushed from ear to neck.
My small hand had somehow clutched his clothes.
"Let me go first, everyone's watching..."
Ethan finally released me slowly, while Noah beside us pursed his lips and secretly turned away.
After all this commotion, I hadn't managed to get checked—the doctor had finished for the day.
I was forced to let him hold my hand as we went to his car.
Noah waited outside while the two of us sat awkwardly in the car.
"Why did you come?"
"Dr. South called me, saying she saw you in the obstetrics department. I saw you retching this morning, so I came."
Ethan turned his head, looking at my flushed face.
"If I hadn't come, how long were you planning to hide it from me? Hmm?"
I clutched the examination form. My usual boldness disappeared around him, my inner confidence completely suppressed.
"I really did take the pill, and I haven't been checked yet, so I don't know if..."
My words became cautious.
Ethan's Adam's apple bobbed.
"What if you are?"
"That's none of your business."
I paused, opened the car door, and left. Ethan didn't stop me.
"None of my business, indeed."
He murmured, leaning against the back of the car, watching me walk away through the window.
My "none of your business" seemed like anger, just like what he had said to me at the estate yesterday.
Noah got in and sat in the driver's seat. Seeing his boss unhappy, he didn't dare ask, but he seemed to understand many things.
"That temper, more stubborn than a mule," Ethan remarked.
Noah smiled gently.
—
Back at my apartment, I lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. I raised the form in my hand, looking at the heavy words "early pregnancy test," and irritably threw it on the coffee table.
"Ethan."
I murmured this unfamiliar name, then sighed.
What if I was pregnant? Abort it? Or like my mother, give birth and be a single mom?
Lost in thought, I opened my contacts to "Ice King CEO," staring at his number.
"Alia! I know you're home, open the door!"
Jack's voice came from outside.
His voice was deep, heavy, and breathless, as if he were drunk.
I glanced at the door, hugging a pillow over my head. I knew he would come, just not so soon.
Neighbors were opening their doors, whispering.
Not wanting to cause trouble, I took my phone and walked to the door, peering through the peephole.
Through it, I could see him swaying, the smell of alcohol detectable even through the door.
Opening the door, a heavy wave of alcohol rushed in with him, the strong smell spreading everywhere.
In that second, I was unexpectedly embraced by Jack's large frame.
The door closed.
"Get off!"
I tried to push him away but was held even tighter!
"Alia, I've missed you..."
He spoke tearfully, frantically kissing me.
I pushed him away in disgust, as if encountering a plague, but he stuck like glue, impossible to shake off.
"Jack! You're drunk! Don't touch me!"
I shouted, but somehow ended up on the sofa with him.
Jack was known for his good physique. Dealing with him, I had no way to break free—the strength difference was too great.
"I heard you're with West now?"
Olivia had acted quickly! Probably angry after being slapped by Ethan, she was stirring up trouble!
Jack held both my hands against my abdomen with one of his, while the other supported him on the sofa as he looked down at me.
I couldn't move at all, my legs pinned under his knees.
"You even blocked my calls and messages. How could you be so heartless?!"
He accused, like an innocent defendant.
"What's wrong with Ethan?! He's cleaner than you! Richer than you! Better built than you!"
"SLAP!"
"Ah!"
Jack slapped me.
I froze, tears flowing.
Jack also froze, realizing he had hit me—the woman he loved.
He quickly leaned down, caressing my reddened face, full of remorse.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
"Get your filthy hands off me!" I gritted my teeth, secretly pressing the Ice King CEO's number on my phone.
"You still won't forgive me..."
"You don't deserve it!"
Jack's eyes reddened, his throat tightening. The air around us seemed to thicken, my heartbeat momentarily stopping—I could almost hear the crisp sound of blood freezing. His grip on my hands grew tighter.
I bit my lip in pain.
His expression changed, becoming tender and watery.
I knew I was in trouble.
I felt Jack's hand gently caressing my delicate face, trying to wipe away my tears.
"Don't cry. Let me comfort you too. A big shot like Ethan won't let you through his door, but I will. We can go abroad, somewhere where no one knows us..."
"Ptui!" I spat at him!
"Garbage! Dream on!" I cursed.
Jack stared at me intently, calmly wiping the saliva from his face.
He didn't even show any resentment.
Just then, he noticed the phone in my hand. The call had just connected when he snatched it away.
"Give it back! Jack!"
I couldn't move, screaming hysterically.
"Still hoping for him at a time like this? Hmph! He probably found out today that you're carrying his child, and by tomorrow he'll be figuring out how to make you get rid of it!"
He mocked coldly, hung up the phone, and tossed it aside.
"He wouldn't! Not everyone is like you!"
"I'm doing this all for you, Alia! I love you! I really love you too much!"
His alcohol-laden breath sprayed out.
"Jack, I believe you love me. Let me go first, and we can talk properly..."
I pleaded, afraid of angering him.
But his eyes were bloodshot; he had lost all reason.
He leaned over me, looking at me, and suddenly tore at my already damaged clothes.
Hiss—
I felt my entire body go cold, my natural state exposed to the air, my porcelain-white shoulder instantly marked with a long red streak.
"Jack! You're insane!"
"Yes, I am insane for you!" he roared!
At that moment, there came a violent banging at the door.
"Help! Help! Mmph!"
My mouth was covered by his large hand.
I was suffocating.
My mind became foggy.
"Shut up!"
Jack's strength was immense, pressing painfully on my nose bridge, deforming my face.
I felt the world darkening...
...
But soon, I felt my body lighten, fresh air rushing in. I felt alive again...
"Cough, cough..." I coughed violently.
Jack was dragged to the floor by a figure, and I heard the heavy sound of flesh hitting flesh, along with painful wails.
Once, twice...
When I recovered enough to climb up from the sofa, I realized Ethan was standing in the living room.
His eyes were fierce, his frameless glasses spattered with droplets of blood, his white shirt stained red.
He was calmly wiping the blood from his hands with a tissue.
"Ugh—" Jack lay on the floor, groaning in pain.
His blood flowed on the ground, filling the room with a sickening metallic smell.
"Ethan?"
This wasn't a dream—
It was him.
"Mm." He glanced at me.
My dried tears began to flow again, unbidden.
Just then, Noah rushed in breathlessly, his feet stepping on the broken door with a "tap, tap, tap" sound.
"Call the police, and also 911. Notify the Hale family," Ethan said.
"Okay..."
Noah, out of breath, pulled out his phone from his pocket, his face pale as he shakily dialed 911.
Ethan sighed almost imperceptibly, picked up the suit jacket that had been thrown on the sofa, and walked toward me.
He knelt on one knee on the sofa, his cold eyes fixed on me, roughly draping the jacket over me and pulling me toward him.
“This is the last time I’ll ask—will you be mine?!”
His hands gripped the collar, holding me—this small figure—within his jacket.
His tone was forceful, so forceful that if I had shaken my head, he would have turned and left.
"Yes."
My tear-filled eyes looked at him, my broken voice coming unhesitatingly from my hoarse throat, evoking pity.
Ethan's Adam's apple bobbed. He thought he had misheard, stunned for several seconds.
"Are you sure?"
I didn't speak, but knelt up, closed my trembling eyelashes, and pressed my cold lips to his thin ones, stained with traces of blood.
Our hot breaths intertwined instantly, then quickly separated.
Ethan, his eyes deep, reached out with his warm palm, caressing the tear marks on my face, then pulled me into his embrace.
Soon, the police arrived, and the questioning went smoothly.
Then the ambulance took Jack away.
—
"I'll take her home first. You find someone to move her luggage," Ethan said.
He reached out, holding me tightly, stroking my sweat-dampened hair, then carefully lifted me in his arms and walked toward the door.
"Okay," Noah replied.
I secretly looked up at him, inhaling his unique scent.
I was carried the entire way, into the car, to his apartment, and he didn't let me down until we reached the bathroom.
"I can manage by myself."
The bathroom was large, but this enclosed space made me feel nervous and afraid.
"Alright, I'll get you some clothes to wear for now."
Ethan didn't look further, just turned and walked out.
I sighed with relief. Standing before the mirror, I looked at myself, unable to escape the memory of what had just happened.
I looked at the jacket I was wearing, took it off, and secretly kissed it. "Thank you."
"Knock, knock..." Someone knocked on the bathroom door.
I opened it a crack and saw a large hand, veins prominent, holding out a white shirt.
I took it, and a pair of slippers was also tossed in.
"Thank you."
"Call if you need anything."
"Okay."
After some time, I dried my hair in the bathroom, moving my long tresses to the front because, without a bra, wearing his black shirt would reveal too much.
Simply put, I wasn't wearing anything underneath.
I gathered my courage and walked out.
The room was empty. I passed through the study, the dressing room, and finally reached the familiar "battlefield" from that night.
My hands clenched tightly, all my inner tension and fear surfacing.
Just then, I heard rustling outside the door and quickly hid under the covers.
"Knock, knock, knock..." came a knock at the door.
"Come in," I responded cautiously.
It was Ethan, pulling a suitcase—my suitcase.
"All your luggage has been brought back. I've arranged a day off for you tomorrow. Rest and go back to work the day after."
"Change into your clothes first, then call me. I'll apply some medicine for you."
"Okay."
He had showered at some point and changed into clean loungewear.
His tone was still ice-cold, emotionless. He didn't even look at me before walking out, gently closing the door.
I stared blankly at the door.
I admired his dignity, his gentlemanly behavior. I had to admit, if I loved him, he would make an excellent partner.
I opened my suitcase. Living alone, all my sleepwear was minimal, so I decided not to change. I just put on underwear beneath his large shirt and called him in.
Ethan came in with a medicine box and placed it beside the bed.
I hadn't noticed until now that my hands were covered in abrasions.
His movements were gentle, one hand holding mine, the other carefully applying ointment.
My wrists were red, and my face had some swelling.
"How did you arrive so quickly?" I was curious. I had just called him, and he appeared.
"I followed you home from the hospital. We only left after you went upstairs. As we were leaving, I saw Jack enter the elevator. Worried he might hurt you, I turned back, and that's when I received your call."
"You followed me home?"
"Yes."
"I'm glad you came..." I responded softly.
Ethan's ears reddened.
"Though I broke down your door again."
"Hehe..." I chuckled.
This was the second time he had broken down a door—another $300 gone.
"Now for your face," Ethan set my hand down and took a fresh cotton swab.
I swallowed, not knowing where to look.
Ethan maintained his icy expression, his emotions unreadable. He carefully held my chin and applied medicine to my face.
His clear breath met mine, our breaths intertwining, creating an intimate atmosphere.
I could faintly hear both our heartbeats. Only then did I realize how close we were.
This was the first time I had looked at him so closely, seeing even the fine pores on his face.
His face was flawless—thick eyebrows, almond eyes, a high nose bridge, thin cherry-red lips. I wanted to kiss...
Embarrassed by my own thoughts, I quickly lowered my head.
"Did I hurt you?"
Even his gentle words sounded cold.
"No, no..."
Ethan noticed my flushed cheeks and also withdrew his gaze.
"The other side," he reminded me.
I quickly turned my face, closing my eyes to prevent my mind from wandering.
Ethan's lips curved slightly as he looked at this blushing girl.
After applying the medicine, he said while tidying up:
"You haven't had dinner, right? Rosetta has delivered some food. Let's go downstairs to eat before sleeping."
"Okay."
"I'll wait for you on the first floor."
Ethan left first, giving me time to compose myself.
