Chapter 82 Strategic Submission
I needed a plan. Fast.
As the drug Blake had injected me with continued to fade from my system, my mind raced with possibilities. I was in Ethan's VIP lounge at the airport, alone with a man whose anger could burn through steel.
I'd learned long ago that there was only one strategy that worked with him—strategic weakness. Not every time, but often enough. The alternative—standing firm against him—was like trying to stop a tsunami with your bare hands.
I blinked my raven-black lashes, allowing tears to well up and spill down my cheeks. I remained silent, just looking at him with my tear-streaked face.
"What are you crying for?" Ethan's brow furrowed, his sharp features tightening. "You betray me by trying to run off with another man, and I haven't even said a word yet. But somehow you're the one who's hurt?"
I reached out, wrapping my arms around his lean waist, pressing my face against his firm abdomen. I let myself sob weakly against him.
"I didn't betray you," I whimpered, my voice catching. "And I wasn't trying to leave you. It was him... Blake stuck a needle in the back of my neck. He drugged me and forced me onto the plane while I was unconscious. When I woke up, the plane was about to take off. I tried to get off, but he stopped me. Thank God you stopped the plane."
Despite my tears and broken voice, I made sure to deliver my explanation clearly and coherently. I couldn't leave room for misinterpretation.
When I finished speaking, I feared he might not believe me. I turned around, lifting my hair to expose the back of my neck.
"Look," I said softly. "Can you see the needle mark?"
I couldn't blame myself for throwing Blake under the bus. My situation was precarious enough.
Die for a friend or die for an enemy—the choice was simple in this world.
Besides, I was the victim here, caught between Ethan and Blake. I couldn't play hero for Blake when I was barely surviving myself.
And if it hadn't been for Blake's stubborn insistence on taking me away, I wouldn't be in this mess right now. In fact, he was the original instigator of my captivity—he was the one who brought me to the Bennett estate in the first place, which led to my meeting Ethan.
If I'd never gone to the Bennett estate, Ethan and I would never have crossed paths.
Not that blaming anyone mattered now. The immediate priority was to calm Ethan down and protect myself from harm—or at least minimize it.
I felt Ethan's fingers gently brush against my exposed neck, examining the tiny puncture mark. His touch sent shivers down my spine.
"I'll trust you for now," he said, his deep voice rumbling with restrained emotion.
I turned back to face him, my eyes still swimming with tears, projecting the most vulnerable, pitiful image I could muster.
"Please don't be angry with me," I pleaded, deliberately shrinking back slightly, making myself smaller. "I didn't do anything wrong this time. Don't be harsh with me."
Ethan stared at me, his expression complex. A strange, unfamiliar ache seemed to cloud his eyes as he watched me recoil like a frightened bird.
"Liv," he said, raising his hand to caress my porcelain cheek. His voice dropped lower, almost tender. "If I hadn't stopped the plane, would you have come back to me?"
The question hung between us, loaded with implications. Before I could formulate an answer, a commotion erupted outside the lounge.
"Tell your boss to come here now. I want to talk to him face to face." Blake's voice carried through the door, addressing the security guards.
When the guards didn't respond, Blake raised his voice. "What's the matter? Is he too busy terrorizing a defenseless girl to face me?"
Then Blake shouted directly at the door: "Ethan! If you're man enough, come after me! Leave Olivia alone!"
I saw Ethan's jaw tighten, a muscle twitching along his temple. The temporary softness in his expression vanished, replaced by glacial fury.
He stood up abruptly, moving toward the door with predatory grace. Just as he reached for the handle, a loud thud sounded—Blake attempting to kick the door open.
Ethan pulled the door wide, catching Blake mid-motion. Their eyes locked in mutual hatred.
"Spending a year abroad really taught you some new tricks," Ethan said, his voice arctic cold.
Blake, cocky as ever, ran his uninjured hand through his tousled hair.
In a blur of movement too fast to track, Ethan grabbed that good hand and twisted it with savage precision.
The crack echoed through the room. Blake's scream followed, primal and agonized. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he gasped for breath.
"Not so arrogant now, are you?" Ethan's lips curled in a cold smile.
With both hands now broken, Blake's lips lost all color, trembling slightly as he glared at Ethan with naked hatred.
Ethan seized Blake's throat, shoving him backward until he slammed against the wall.
"Don't think your Bennett name protects you," Ethan hissed, his knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip. "Remember this, Blake—next time, I won't just break your hands. I'll cut them off entirely. Whichever part of you touches her, I'll remove it."
Ethan released his grip, extending his hand behind him. A security guard immediately passed him a sanitizing wipe. Ethan methodically cleaned his hands before tossing the used wipe at Blake's face.
Blake doubled over, coughing violently and gulping for air.
Ethan didn't spare him another glance. "Take him to a hospital in two hours," he instructed coldly, ensuring Blake would suffer longer before receiving medical attention.
"Yes, sir," the guard replied respectfully.
As Ethan turned to leave, he suddenly stopped, looking past Blake to where his friend stood frozen.
The young man visibly trembled as Ethan's icy gaze settled on him. "Mr. Bennett, I'm sorry—I shouldn't have helped him—"
"Oh? So you helped him?" Ethan cut him off sharply.
The friend fell silent, horrified at his own admission.
Ethan strode over to him. "Which hand would you prefer to lose?"
Blake coughed weakly. "Leave him out of this. It was my—"
Before he could finish, Blake's friend dropped to his knees, clutching Ethan's legs as he sobbed like a child.
"Sir, I was wrong. I swear I'll never help Blake with anything like this again!"
Blake stared in disbelief at his friend's complete capitulation.
Ethan kicked the man away with a disgusted look. "Unfortunately, you've already committed a serious offense." He patted the man's head mockingly. "Children need punishment when they misbehave, don't they?"