Dad's best friend secret baby

Chapter 17

Ethan

I kept my eyes trained on the footage as I watched her twirl and gesture down the stairs. It was the CCTV footage of the house where I watched Sophie whenever I felt like it.

I hadn't used it in a while. I suddenly found the urge to. But it wasn't Sophie I was watching now.

Her hands continued to gesture towards her heart and outward, her mouth opening and closing dramatically. I couldn't quite figure out her actions.

When Evie reached the base of the stairs, she turned both sides as if searching for something. I narrowed my eyes when she hunched. Was she hurt?

She did a small lady-like bow at the end before jogging into the playroom. When I realized what she did, a small smile tilted my lips at the act.

The sight of a twenty-one-year-old performing down the stairs was quite amusing. Wait, amusing?

I quickly shut the lid of my system. What the fuck was I doing? Fuck. I really was conflicted. Greatly.

It would be cowardice to deny that I was barely hanging by a thread. It would be the same to deny that Evie was starting to affect more than just my dick. Fuck. Evie was starting to live rent free in my head... my thoughts.

I could barely do anything without thinking about her. I tried to convince myself that Sophie was the reason I remembered the footage, but a large chunk of that reason was her. Evie. This was bad.

First, I called her two days ago into my office, talking about how she was helping me and shit. Now, watching her like a creep?

I'm Ethan Thorne. For fuck sake, I don't have time for useless conversations. I never forged ahead in a decision when I knew the risks outweighed the benefits. It was common business knowledge. So, what the fuck was wrong with me?

Despite the glaring risk, why couldn't I get my mind off her?

I buried my face in my palms.

There were important company matters to tend to.

The researchers from Minnesota arrived yesterday. They'd delayed this long for whatever issue, but they were here now.

The new investor, Mr. Charles, for the surgical robots, was already on our necks for the first testing.

The deadline was approaching. I'd announced to the team, including Evie, that we couldn't afford to slack, yet here I was.

I refilled my glass of whiskey, downing the glass in two large gulps. Perhaps Doctor Amelia could have the answer. Picking my car key from my table, I exited the office and the building.

Driving outside the parking lot, I fisted the wheel of my car.

I hadn't been this disturbed, not since Olivia. A dull ache streamed through my chest at the thought. Olivia.

There wasn't time to grieve too much after Olivia's death. I had Sophie to care for. I had my company to run. And though it hurt when she died, I had to move on quickly.

It was easier to do that because, somehow, her death paved the way for my freedom. Marriage to Olivia was like drowning in an endless ocean, and after years of struggling to float, I could finally breathe.

But that didn't last when I started to see the reality that my daughter might remain mute for the rest of her life. I still blamed myself for Sophie's predicament. That was enough to rid any other activity, including women.

Shortly after Olivia's death, I received proposals from models, actresses, and women in power on how they wanted to be with me. Most were for selfish desires. The few that weren't didn't interest me. Nothing outside work and Sophie interested me.