A week went by without any noteworthy events. Hayden and I had adjusted a little to our new pace in life. What that basically meant was that he no longer stuck to my side all the time. We met up when I got off work and when he was free. He would spend some nights at my apartment and the others back at his ce.


    Hayden didn’t tell me about it, but I was sure that some of his men were probably watching me at ces that I frequented such as the art school and my apartment building.


    After wrapping up a busy day of teaching at the school, I was tidying up. Carrying a bunch of artbooks in my arms, I headed back towards my ssroom where I needed to arrange them back into ce. Teaching was hard work, but it was also so fun and felt so fulfilling. I loved my students, my colleagues, and my job.


    "The girl who painted this has got some crazy talent, don’t you think?" a man’s voice spoke up the moment that I entered the ssroom.


    "Ethan…" I whispered his name before the thudding sound of something hitting the floor echoed throughout the empty ssroom.


    In my shock, I had dropped the art books that I had been holding. My entire body froze as Ethan turned around to face me. He smiled at me as his green eyes stared deeply into mine. My legs and all parts of my body refused to move.


    "You don’t have to be so shocked…" Ethan said casually as he walked over.


    I watched as he bent down to retrieve the books that I had dropped to the floor at my feet. Swiftly, he arranged them back into a pile and ced it on the table for me. He then proceeded to look around the ssroom at the various artworks by the students without saying anything more to me.


    Why is he here? What does he want?


    Although I had so many questions that I wanted answers to, my mouth wouldn’t move, and my throat felt very dry. I couldn’t speak. My eyes followed him as he walked slowly around the ssroom, his eyes on the various paintings and drawings hanging from the walls.


    "I like this one the most out of all of them. Do you know why?" Ethan asked followed by a smallugh.


    I did know why.


    "You painted this…when you were feeling lonely and quite depressed…" Ethan stated with certainty.


    My fists clenched into tight balls as I watched him continue to stare at the painting that I had painted when I first got the job. Back then, I was trying to move on with my life after the contract between Hayden and me had expired. It was a truly lonely and depressing time for me. It was just like Ethan to be able to tell so much from just a painting that I had painted.


    "How are things going between you two?" Ethan asked, his eyes still on my painting.


    "Fine…" I replied curtly.


    "Good," Ethan said with a satisfied nod.


    "Why are you here, Ethan?" I finally managed to ask.


    "To see you. Why else?" Ethan replied like it was supposed to be dead obvious.


    "What do you want?" I asked.


    "I just want to talk to you. Don’t worry, I came alone, and I’m unarmed," Ethan said after he turned to face me.


    Raising both his hands up, he made an effort to show me that he was in fact unarmed. That wasn’t why I was concerned though.


    "That being said, I’m more than enough to take you out of here before Hayden’s men can react…" Ethan said followed by an amused chuckle.


    "What do you want to talk to me about?" I asked, ignoring his unnecessaryments.


    The sooner that I could get him to get to the point, the sooner this conversation would be over.


    "Jack Witman…" Ethan said as his eyes narrowed at me.


    I knew that he was carefully watching my reaction and reading my bodynguage. It was one of the things that Ethan did best.


    "I see. So, Hayden did tell you about Jack. Were you surprised?" Ethan asked needlessly.


    "Yes, I was…" I replied.


    "Did he tell you how and why Jack died?" Ethan asked without mincing his words.


    "Yes…" I replied as I bit my lips.


    Ethan walked over to where I was standing and sat down on a chair. He seemed as rxed as ever. He gestured for me to take a seat on a chair next to him and I slowlyplied.


    "Are you mad at Hayden?" Ethan asked.


    "Why would I be mad at Hayden?" I asked in confusion.


    "Hayden sure is a very honest guy. He seemed to have told you everything except one very important detail," Ethan said afterughing a little to himself.


    I could sense that Ethan knew something that I didn’t and I hated how he was using it to make light of me.


    "What do you mean?" I snapped.


    "Your father sessfully went into hiding for years. Have you ever wondered how my father found him?" Ethan asked as if encouraging me to think.


    What is Ethan trying to say?


    "I don’t know what you’re talking about…" I said without hiding my annoyance.


    "Do you know want to know the real reason why Hayden never came looking for you?" Ethan asked.


    "He just wanted me to live a normal life away from the mafia. Exactly how my father wanted…" I replied with confidence.


    "Really? Are you sure?" Ethan asked in a drawl.


    "What is it that you want to say? Just say it, Ethan…" I urged him to spit it all out.


    I was getting tired of him ying around with me and my head.


    "He was scared that you would get killed if he found you…just like when he found your father," Ethan said as his face came closer to mine.


    What? Ethan’s words left mepletely dumbfounded as I watched his green eyes while he smiled teasingly at me. My throat felt tight, and I couldn’t produce any sounds.


    --To be continued…