Page 35 of Silent Night Temptation

And then there’s Nyree. The mere thought of her sends waves of conflicting emotions through me. I feel drawn to her in a way I can’t control, no matter how much I wish I could. It’s maddening. She has a power over me that I can’t understand, a pull that strips me of my defenses. I trusted her, too much, too easily. I let myself believe she was different, that I could be vulnerable with her, and yet, she hid this from me. She knew Coco was pregnant, knew what it would mean for me, and she said nothing. The knowledge crushes me, not just because of the secret, but because I thought we were closer than that. I had let her in, let her see more of me than I show anyone else, and she kept me in the dark.

But perhaps I’m angrier at myself than I am at her. I should have known better. I should have been more guarded, more cautious. I always am. I don’t let people get too close, and now, when I finally do, it backfires in the worst way.

My thoughts churn in an endless loop as I lift the axe and bring it down again and again on the logs before me. Each swing is an outlet for the rage and frustration surging through me. I can hear the sharp crack of the wood splitting, a brutal echo of the chaos inside my mind. This holiday, which could have been so full of peace and joy, is now poisoned. I stand here, unsure of how to piece it all back together.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glint of movement. My attention turns to it, and there he is, Ethan. Just the sight of him stokes the fire burning inside me. My grip tightens on the axe as a fresh wave of frustration surges through me. I bring it downwith brutal force, the blade biting deep into the wood. The crack of the split echoes through the cold air, but it isn’t enough to silence the roar of anger inside me.

He’s coming closer. Slow, measured steps crunching through the thick snow. The nearer he gets, the harder I swing, splintering the logs with every strike. His boots grind against the frost, louder with each step, until he’s standing just meters away.

I refuse to acknowledge him. A part of me doesn’t want to. I’m afraid of what I might do if I give him even a sliver of attention. So, I keep my focus on the task in front of me, letting the axe do the talking. For what feels like an eternity, he just stands there, watching me. I half expect some cutting remark, some smug comment designed to get under my skin, but nothing comes. Maybe even Ethan knows that this isn’t the time for his usual antics.

At last, he speaks. “Hey… can we talk?”

The words make me freeze mid swing. My eyes snap up to meet his, and I know he sees the anger in them. It’s reflected back at me in the look of hesitation in his gaze. His voice sounds different this time. Not the confident tone I’ve grown accustomed to, but something quieter. More subdued. “I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already have. I just want to talk.”

His words linger in the air, and I study him, scanning his face for any sign of deceit. There’s a look I’ve never seen on him before, something closer to sincerity, as if, for once, he’s speaking from a place that isn’t wrapped in manipulation. And then there’s the cold, hard truth that hits me again: this man is going to be the father of my grandchild. A momentary change happens inside me. Not a complete one, but enough to make me pause, enough to make me listen.

I swing the axe one last time, a hard, final blow, and let it stick into the block of wood before me. Ethan flinches slightly at thesound, and I can’t help but feel a satisfaction in his unease. I wipe the back of my hand across my brow and turn, walking over to a small log behind me. I sit down slowly, feeling the weight of the moment settle around us like the thick snow beneath our feet.

I fix my eyes on him, steady and unflinching, and nod once. “Alright then… talk.”

He pauses for a moment, like he's weighing every word before it leaves his mouth. Then, in a breath so heavy it almost doesn’t seem like it came from him, Ethan lets out a long, deep sigh. I can’t help but raise an eyebrow at the sight of it. This is not the Ethan I know. But before I can fully process my surprise, he begins speaking.

"Marcus..." he starts, and there's something unguarded in his tone. "You and I... we’ve never exactly seen eye to eye. And honestly, you have every right to question me. I deserve that. I've earned it."

I say nothing, just watch him.

“I know some of the things I’ve done… during this whole business rivalry, this mess we’ve gotten tangled up in… I understand why you hate me.”

I give a slow nod. This is a different Ethan standing before me, but I’m not stupid. I’ve seen him play games before, twist words like a knife in the back. My guard stays firmly in place..

“I’ve been an asshole to you,” he continues, and the bluntness catches me off guard. “I know that. There’s a lot I have to apologize for. A lot of things I’ve done just to get ahead. I’ve played dirty. I’ve played games.”

He pauses, and I can see him struggling with something, the words lodged in his throat. His eyes, which had been drifting somewhere distant, finally lock onto mine with an intensity I wasn’t expecting.

“But Coco…” His voice falters for a split second, and he swallows hard. “Coco is not a game to me.”

My eyes narrow.

“I’m in love with your daughter,” he says, and this time there’s no hesitation, no crack in his voice. Just raw, naked truth.

His breath fogs in the cold air, his eyes not straying from mine now, locked in the gravity of the moment.

“I know what you think of me,” he continues, his voice quieter but no less intense. “I know you think I’m some manipulative bastard, and you’re right. I’ve been ruthless…hell, I’ve wanted to be. It’s how I’ve always operated. I wanted to win, to beat you, no matter what it took. I’ve lied, I’ve cheated, I’ve undercut deals just to throw you off balance. I know that.”

He takes a step forward, cautiously, as though testing the limits of how close he can come without me reacting. I stay seated, watching and listening, the tight grip of mistrust not loosening in the slightest. But there’s something in his voice now, a chink in the polished demeanor I’m used to seeing.

“But Coco…” he says her name again, softer this time. “She’s changed everything for me, Marcus. I’m not the same person when I’m with her. I don’t want to be that guy anymore…the one who’s always scheming, always looking for an angle. I love her. Truly. And I know, coming from me, that probably sounds impossible, but I swear to you, it’s real.”

He stops, waiting for my reaction, but I give him nothing. My face is a stone wall. I want to hear it all, every single word he has to say. Let him lay it out for me. If there’s any truth in him, I’ll find it.

He glances down at the snow, his shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of his confession. “I don’t expect you to believe me. I wouldn’t, if I were you. But she’s pregnant, Marcus. She’s carrying our child. And I’m going to be there for her. I’m going to be there for both of them, no matter what it takes.”

The words hang between us, and for a moment, the only sound is the faint crunch of snow under his shifting boots. I feel something tighten in my chest, a blend of anger and protectiveness.

“You’re right,” I say, my voice low and deliberate. “I don’t believe you. Not yet.”

He blinks, but I can tell he expected this.

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