Chapter 6 The Shadow in the West Wing
The Bentley cruised deeper into Beverly Hills, following a private road flanked by perfectly manicured California oaks. Blake lowered his window as we approached a security checkpoint, nodding casually to the guards. Two men in crisp black uniforms immediately straightened, offering respectful nods.
"Good evening, Mr. Bennett," one said with practiced deference.
A voice recognition system confirmed Blake's identity, and massive iron gates slid open silently, revealing a winding private driveway that stretched beyond my line of sight.
"Welcome home, Mr. Bennett," the guard added, his tone reverent.
"Impressive, right?" Blake smirked, accelerating through the gates. "The family's owned this property since the 1900s. My great-grandfather bought it when it was just farmland."
"It's... something," I managed.
The Bentley wound along the driveway, passing immaculate gardens, a tennis court, an Olympic-sized swimming pool, and what looked like a private golf course. I stared slack-jawed, unable to comprehend how one family could own so much private space in one of the most expensive zip codes in America.
"That's the main house," Blake pointed toward a massive Tuscan-style building rising ahead of us. "My grandfather usually stays there. Further back is where my father lives..."
The car slowed as we passed through a dense grove of oak trees. Through the foliage, I spotted a separate Spanish colonial-style building on a hillside, distinctly different from the Mediterranean architecture of the main house.
"Don't stare at that," Blake suddenly said, his voice dropping to an unusual whisper. "That's the West Wing. My uncle Ethan's place. We'd better keep our distance."
"Why?" I asked, unable to tear my eyes from the mysterious building. "Is your uncle scary or something?"
Blake gave a tight laugh. "He's cold as ice and twice as hard. Even I'm afraid of him. He recently broke his leg, which has made his temper worse than usual. Trust me, you don't want to get on his radar."
Looking at my worried expression, Blake softened his tone. "Don't worry. He's probably not even here. Besides, we're only staying one night. Even if he does show up, we'll be fine as long as we stay away from his wing."
His phone rang just as he finished speaking. Blake answered with his usual arrogant tone: "Stop nagging, I'm already home."
I watched his expression change instantly, tension spreading across his face. "What? He's coming back today?"
My stomach dropped. Blake ended the call, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel.
"Blake," I said quietly, "maybe you should just take me back to campus..."
"No, it's too late," he cut me off, his voice suddenly firm. "I'm twenty fucking years old. Having a girlfriend is normal. Even if I bring you home, he won't interfere."
"My uncle isn't a monster," Blake continued, his voice lowering as we approached the main house. "Ethan Bennett, third son of the Bennett family. But in many ways, he's more powerful than my father and other uncles."
Blake parked the Bentley in a garage filled with luxury vehicles, then turned to me with uncharacteristic seriousness.
"He entered West Point at sixteen. By twenty, he was involved in special border operations, helping federal agents take down an international drug cartel. At twenty-four, he could have become one of the youngest commanders in military history, but he suddenly retired and entered business."
"Nobody in the family except my grandparents dares to cross him." Blake unbuckled his seatbelt and squeezed my shoulder. "Wait here. I need to see him first."
When Blake returned fifteen minutes later, he seemed more relaxed. "Crisis averted. He's in his wing and doesn't plan to join us. Come on, let me show you around."
---
Blake led me into the main house, introducing me to his cousins, Michael and Liam—one a freshman at UCLA like me, the other a junior like Blake. Dinner included only the younger family members, no intimidating elders in sight.
Without the pressure of older family members, I managed to relax somewhat. Still, I maintained my posture, correctly used each set of cutlery, and politely answered every question.
"No wonder you checked in with Uncle Ethan and disappeared so fast," Michael teased. "You were rushing to pick up your girlfriend!"
"So you're on a full academic scholarship at UCLA?" Liam asked curiously.
"Yes, a full academic scholarship," I replied calmly, taking a small sip of water. "I'm very fortunate to have the opportunity."
Blake squeezed my hand proudly. "Olivia's the top student in her department."
---
After dinner, Blake took me to the estate's rose garden. Moonlight bathed the various roses in silver light, and the air was heavy with their sweet fragrance. A fountain provided gentle background music as we walked.
"Do you like it here?" Blake asked, standing in a stone gazebo, his arm around my waist.
"It's beautiful," I answered honestly.
"Liv," Blake turned me toward him gently. "This past month, how do you feel about me?"
I took a deep breath, prepared to tell him honestly that I hadn't developed any feelings, but Blake gently pressed his finger to my lips.
"Don't say it. I can see it in your face. But that's okay, I can wait. What's one month, anyway?" His tone was gentle yet carried an unmistakable firmness. "But after another month, I don't want to hear that you don't have feelings for me. Understand?"
Sitting in the gazebo, Blake continued telling family stories, particularly about Ethan.
"My uncle was born when my great-grandfather had just retired, so he had more time to spend with his grandson. People say Ethan was his favorite."
"Ethan set several records at West Point, then joined Marine Special Forces. There are rumors about classified missions, but even the family doesn't know the details."
"At twenty-four, everyone thought he'd continue his military career, but he suddenly retired. After studying at Columbia Business School, he built his own business empire in less than five years, becoming a leader in the business world."
"He's amazing," I said sincerely when Blake finished.
Blake smiled ruefully. "That's exactly why none of us younger guys have much ambition. What's the point of trying when you've got that mountain ahead of you? No matter how hard we work, we'll never surpass him."
Blake's phone rang. He glanced at it.
"Some old friends are meeting at a bar near the estate. I haven't seen them in ages..." he trailed off.
"Go ahead," I said, secretly relieved. "I'd like to stay in the garden a bit longer."
"Are you sure? I could bring you along."
"No, I'm tired. You should see your friends."
Blake nodded. "I'll just say hello and be right back. Won't be gone long, I promise."
As Blake walked away, I wandered alone along the garden paths, enjoying the momentary solitude.
Suddenly, lightning flashed across the sky. Seconds later, thunder rumbled and rain poured down in sheets.