Chapter 101 My Girl is Missing
Author's POV:
"Blake," I said, finding my voice at last. "Was it you? Did you tell them where to find us?"
He stopped pacing and looked at me, affronted. "Jesus, Liv. In your eyes, am I really that fucked up?"
I remembered him cornering me in the women's bathroom last year, dressed as a woman. I remembered the sedative he'd slipped me once before. His obsession. His entitlement.
"Yes," I answered simply. "You are."
He laughed bitterly, then moved to the bar and poured himself a whiskey. "I thought you were different from others. Guess not."
"Who leaked the information then?" I pressed.
Blake took a long sip of his drink, then set it down with deliberate care. "You never once suspected Ethan, did you? Just straight to blaming me."
"Why would Ethan—" I stopped myself, seeing the trap. "Ethan wouldn't create problems for himself."
"No? Maybe his enemies are the ones creating problems." Blake pulled out a tablet from his bag and slid it across the coffee table to me. "You should know who you're sleeping with, Liv. The real Ethan Bennett."
The screen showed a military dossier. Classified operations. Special Forces missions in Southeast Asia, targeting drug cartels. I scrolled through, my stomach dropping with each swipe.
"When Ethan was twenty-one," Blake continued, his voice clinical, "he was part of a special ops mission in the Golden Crescent. Later, he requested transfer to the Golden Triangle."
I looked up. "Drug trafficking regions."
"Smart girl." Blake nodded. "There was a drug lord who had captured and tortured one of our agents for six months. Pumped him full of drugs. The man died in agony."
My throat tightened.
"Ethan went off-book. Captured several cartel lieutenants. And then—" Blake leaned forward, his eyes glittering, "—he tortured them the same way they tortured our agent. Only worse. Two died under his... care. Another, he beheaded and displayed the head on a stake as a warning."
"No," I whispered, but the file didn't lie. The photographs were clinical, detached. Horrific.
"The military disciplined him for it. Going rogue. Excessive force." Blake's voice had taken on a storyteller's cadence. "But the damage was done. He'd made enemies. Vicious, eternal enemies who've been hunting him ever since."
"Zaw," I said, remembering the name from earlier conversations. "The son of one of those men who died. Now he's a drug kingpin himself, wanting revenge for his father."
"Yes. And others." Blake refilled his glass. "Ethan's a marked man, Liv. Anyone close to him becomes a target too."
The weight of his words settled over me. "But how did they find out about me specifically? About the SUV route?"
Blake's expression shifted subtly. "This part's going to hurt, Liv." He hesitated, then continued. "Remember when you went to that pharmacy yesterday?"
My blood ran cold. "How do you—"
"You ran into Noah Mitchell there," Blake said. "Noah works for Victor Hammond, who's partners with Vincent Crawford."
The room seemed to tilt. "Noah reported seeing me?"
"Yes. Victor and Vincent were working together to expand their operations into the Southeast Asian market, which is why they were in the area. Victor told Zaw about your relationship with Ethan," Blake's voice softened. "Vincent was the one who told me about it. His brother was my college roommate, and I've known Vincent for years. Vincent never thought Victor would collude with drug lords to gain market advantage. He may not like my uncle, but he draws the line at working with cartels. As soon as he found out, he came straight to me."
I sat back, stunned. My trip to buy painkillers—because I was angry at Ethan for lying—had endangered everyone. The injured bodyguards. Ethan's security team. Myself.
"This is what being with Ethan means," Blake said, sliding closer on the sofa. "Constant danger. Always looking over your shoulder. Never knowing which friend might actually be working for his enemies."
I couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe.
"Come home with me, Liv," Blake urged, his hand covering mine. "Away from this nightmare. Away from him."
---
In Bangkok, at the luxury Villa hotel overlooking the Chao Phraya River, Ethan Bennett stood before floor-to-ceiling windows. His silhouette was sharp against the city lights, two fingers holding a cigarette, the other hand gripping his phone.
"She disappeared on your turf, Kevin. You take full responsibility," his voice was low, glacial. "Three hours. I want to see her in Bangkok within three hours."
Kevin's voice crackled over the speaker. "Mr. Bennett, please. I've deployed over a hundred men. There was an unexpected second force that intercepted us. By the time my men got there, she was gone. Do you know who these people were, Mr. Bennett?"
Ethan took a drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly. "You're asking me who ambushed your men on your own territory?"
Ethan knew. They were Eric's men—Blake's uncle, a brigadier general competing for a major-general position. But he wouldn't say it. That would make this his fault.
"Three hours," Ethan repeated, his tone brooking no argument. "After that, the Armed Forces might need new leadership."
He ended the call and crushed out his cigarette before dialing Jake.
"My girl is missing," he said without preamble. "Find her."
Jake sounded surprised. "You lost her while she was with you?"
"There were complications. Zaw sent men to intercept our vehicle." Ethan's jaw tightened. "Blake has her now."
"Blake? Your nephew?" Jake paused. "Well, at least she's not with Zaw."
Ethan's voice sharpened. "Cut the bullshit and find her. She's likely still at the airport."
"You really don't need to worry. Your nephew will probably bring her to Bangkok anyway. Isn't that convenient—delivering her right back to you?"