The day went by oddly quickly for Ethan. His figure reflected in the window was shrouded in mystery against the night lights of the bright city.
"The Young Miss has gone to sleep." One of the maids informed him, sneaking glances at the man who stood with his back toward her. "I also brought her bag as ordered."
"Leave it on the desk. You can head back." He waved, allowing her to take the rest of the night off.
The whiskey in his hand was no longer appetizing. He occasionally indulged in drinks, treating them like a luxury, since he was a health maniac.
Perhaps it was the report he had received that had sullied his mood. He didn't quite understand the feelings that were in his heart or why he felt a little care for the grandchild he never properly looked at.