Chapter 105 What Else Do You Want
Bangkok was bathed in sunlight today. The golden rays poured through the glass, warming the air-conditioned chill of the room.
I stared at the pages, not reading a word.
The heavy click of the door lock made my spine stiffen. Ethan walked in.
He stopped, his gaze darkening. It was that look again. The one that stripped me bare, the one that said he owned every breath I took.
Panic fluttered in my chest like a trapped bird. I stood up abruptly, the book clutching against my chest like a shield.
"Are... are you finished with work?" My voice was small, pathetic.
He didn't answer immediately. He crossed the room in three long strides, closing the distance between us until his heat radiated against me. He pulled me into his arms, not roughly this time, but with an inexorable firmness that allowed no escape. He lowered his head, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of my ear.
"What are you reading?" His voice was a low rumble, vibrating against my chest.
I held up the cover, my hand trembling slightly. "Just this."
He glanced at it and let out a short, dry chuckle. "You read Thai now?"
"No," I whispered, looking down. "I can't understand it. I was just... holding it."
He buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply.
"You smell good," he murmured against my skin.
He’d said that before. A dozen times.
"It's the hotel body wash," I said, trying to lean back, to put an inch of space between us. "You used the same one."
He didn't let me go. Instead, he tightened his grip, his teeth grazing my neck in a mock bite that made me gasp. "It's not the soap, Olivia. It's you. It's your scent."
I pushed against his chest, but it was like pushing against a marble wall. He was hard, unyielding.
He lifted his head, framing my face with his large hands. His thumbs stroked my cheekbones, his expression unreadable. "Make a list of books you want. I'll have someone pick them up."
I looked up at him, trying to keep my eyes soft, submissive. "Actually... I want to learn a language. Could you find me a tutor?"
One of his eyebrows arched, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Suddenly studious? Why the sudden interest?"
"I just want to learn," I said, trying to sound practical. "Having more skills never hurts. It doesn't weigh you down."
Ethan maneuvered us to the sofa, pulling me down onto his lap. He bounced his leg slightly, settling me against him. A smirk played on his lips.
"True," he drawled, his hand drifting to my waist. "It doesn't weigh you down."
I turned my face away, flushing at the double entendre in his tone.
He kissed the corner of my mouth, lingering there. "We're sending you back in three days."
My heart skipped a beat. "Okay."
He turned my face back to him, his thumb rubbing firmly over my bottom lip. "Tomorrow, I'm taking you out. Where do you want to go?"
"Anywhere is fine," I said.
His grip on my waist tightened, his fingers digging into my flesh. He leaned in, his intent clear, his breathing shifting, becoming heavier.
Just as his lips were about to crush mine, his phone buzzed on the coffee table.
For once, I didn't have to push him away. Ethan pulled back with a curse, reaching for the device.
"Speak," he commanded.
I could hear Justin's voice on the other end. Ethan listened, his eyes fixed on a point on the wall, cold and predatory.
"Keep tracking them," Ethan said, his voice clipped. "Don't get sloppy. I want eyes on Bogota."
He listened for a moment longer, his jaw clenching. "If we reject Vincent, he runs to Victor. I know. Victor thinks he's clever, playing both sides. He thinks because he backed the winning horse this time, I have to bow to him."
Ethan’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint of violence flashing in them. "Let him think that. Victor is a petty little shit who forgets who feeds him. Once he gets a taste of power..."
He cut himself off, exhaling a sharp breath of smoke he wasn't smoking. "Fine. Let Vincent sweat for a few days."
"Understood," Justin's voice came through clearly now. "Also, the local government just issued the warrant for Zaw. Military and police are mobilizing tonight. It's going to be a heavy sweep."
"Good," Ethan said, a cruel smile touching his lips. "Tell them to make it loud. The bigger the show, the better."
He hung up and tossed the phone aside. The darkness in his eyes lingered for a second before he turned back to me. The transition was terrifyingly seamless. One second he was discussing manhunts and corporate warfare; the next, he was nuzzling my neck.
"How about we go for a drive tonight?" he whispered against my skin. "Up the mountain."
The night air in Bangkok was humid and thick with the smell of exhaust and street food. We were in a white Pagani Huayra.
Outside, the city was screaming.
Blue and red lights flashed in the rearview mirror, but they weren't for us. Ahead, a neon-green Lamborghini was tearing through the traffic, flanked by three Ferraris. It looked like a scene from a movie—reckless, dangerous, and loud. Sirens wailed, cutting through the thumping bass of the street clubs.
Ethan glanced at me. "Exciting?"
I frowned, looking at him like he was insane.
Ethan smirked, the cigarette dangling from his lips. He shifted gears, and the Pagani roared, a beast waking up. "Hold on."
He slammed on the gas.
My head snapped back against the headrest as the car surged forward like a missile. The city blurred into streaks of neon light—red, gold, blue.
Ethan drove with his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his voice low and unhurried. "The passion young boys can give you... I can give you more."
He downshifted as we hit the curve leading out of the city, the engine growling low and menacing.
"Those boys can't give you the world," he said, his voice dropping an octave. He reached over, his large hand covering my knee, squeezing possessively. "I can."
I bit my lip, refusing to answer. The implication hung in the air: I can give you everything, so why do you still look like you want to run?
"You want to learn languages?" he asked, referencing our conversation from earlier. "Done. When we get back to LA, I'll hire the best tutors money can buy. Spanish, French, German, Japanese. Hell, learn Latin if you want. Five tutors, one for every day of the week. Weekends off."
The car crunched to a halt on a gravel overlook, the city lights glittering below us like diamonds.
"You want a degree? I'll buy the university. A career? I'll buy the company."
I sat frozen, dizzy with the absurdity of it.
He killed the engine, letting the silence rush in. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he turned and cupped my jaw, his dark eyes locking onto mine.
"Tell me," he whispered, thumb tracing my lip. "What else do you want?"