Chapter 132 Send Her Away?
The collision happened in an instant.
The silver Bentley cruised through an intersection, its driver Lucian Hollis carefully navigating the evening traffic. In the backseat, Olivia scrolled through her phone, composing a text to Daisy about running late to dinner.
She never saw the massive truck barreling toward them, its driver slumped over the wheel. The impact came from the driver's side—a deafening crash of metal and glass. The Bentley spun violently before slamming into a light pole.
Inside the mangled vehicle, Olivia lay unconscious, blood streaming from cuts across her face and arms. Her left arm bent at an unnatural angle. A deep laceration ran from her left eye toward her temple, glass fragments embedded in her skin.
Lucian Hollis hadn't moved since the impact. He wouldn't ever again.
---
"You're at Cedars-Sinai," the doctor explained as Olivia regained consciousness. "Your left arm is fractured, and you have a severe laceration near your eye. We've stitched it, but there may be some scarring."
Sarah stood in the corner, her face streaked with tears. When the doctor stepped back, she rushed forward.
"Oh God, Liv! Does it hurt? I'm so sorry!" Sarah's words tumbled out between sobs. She raised her hand and slapped herself across the face. "It's all my fault! If I hadn't agreed to let you go out—"
Olivia wanted to reach out, but couldn't move her arms. She tried to shake her head, but even that small motion sent pain radiating through her skull.
"Not... your fault," Olivia managed, her throat raw. "Don't... blame yourself."
The doctor intervened. "Miss Reed needs rest. There are quite a few people waiting to see you, but I don't want this room crowded. One or two visitors at most."
After some discussion, Sarah and Walter remained while others were ushered out.
"Mr. Bennett has been informed," Sarah whispered. "He'll be here as soon as he can."
---
Ethan stood outside his grandfather's hospital room at 4:30 AM, his face a mask of composed tension. When the doctor finally emerged with news that the old man had regained consciousness and was stabilizing, Ethan spent thirty minutes at his bedside before preparing to leave.
By the time Ethan reached Olivia's hospital, dawn was breaking. He entered her room silently, nodding to Walter before taking Olivia's right hand in his. Her skin was cold, a large purple bruise spreading across where glass had cut into her.
The truck had been meant for him. The target was supposed to be him, not her.
His phone vibrated. Ethan carefully released Olivia's hand and stepped onto the small balcony to take the call.
"What have you found?" he asked without preamble.
Jackson's voice came through clearly. "The driver's name is Lucian Hollis, forty-eight years old. Has a son in college and a daughter in high school. Diagnosed with stomach cancer two weeks ago. Police are questioning him, but he insists he was just drinking because he was depressed."
"And the Hollis family?" Ethan asked, his voice cold.
"Relocated to Oregon. I've already sent people to secure them."
"Give the address to Harry," Ethan ordered.
"Will do," Jackson agreed. After a pause, he asked, "Ethan, when Olivia's discharged, are you considering sending her abroad?"
---
In the Bennett Enterprise headquarters, Justin briefed Ethan on recent developments.
"Since you orchestrated Victor's downfall, his family has formed an alliance with the Pearson clan," Justin said, scrolling through his tablet. "Silas Hammond rushed back from Eastern Europe to take over his brother's operations."
"They made it official today," Justin continued. "Victoria Hammond and Silas Hammond held their engagement ceremony at the Beverly Hills Hotel. Quite the social event."
He pulled up photos showing the power couple surrounded by guests. "With Thomas still serving as Energy Commissioner, the place was packed with people falling over themselves to curry favor."
Justin swiped to another screen. "Here's where it gets interesting. Felix Thorne, Collins' father-in-law, has a weakness for art and antiques. The guests brought 'gifts'—eighteenth-century European silverware, nineteenth-century French paintings, Revolutionary War manuscripts, limited-edition post-war sculptures, antique watches, vintage porcelain, rare wines from retired vineyards... All authentic, with auction house certificates."
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "Despite Thomas warning his father-in-law not to accept anything during this sensitive period."
"Exactly," Justin grinned. "But after Felix made his money, he's been desperate to establish himself in high society art circles, pretending to understand contemporary art and antique collecting. He actually developed a decent eye for it and considers himself an insider."
"Seeing authentic pieces, he couldn't resist," Ethan concluded. "Especially given his inherent greed."
Justin nodded. "He accepted everything secretly and instructed his household not to breathe a word about it."
"Just as I predicted," Ethan's lips curved into a cold smile. "Felix was a nobody who worked in those Rust Belt industrial zones for years before stumbling into real estate during the boom. Like all uneducated nouveau riche, he fears nothing more than being exposed as uncultured."
"People crave what they lack most," Ethan added. "That's human nature."
"To be fair," Justin remarked, "the man does have some business instinct."
"He simply caught a wave at the right time," Ethan dismissed. His voice hardened as he shifted to strategy: "Have PR create a social media trend about art collections. Something catchy like 'Louvre Has One, I Have One.' Use influencers to push it to trending. Then leak information about Thomas's father-in-law's private collection, connecting it to artifact smuggling and black market dealings."
Justin raised an eyebrow, impressed. "You're a natural-born schemer."
"Fuck off," Ethan replied coldly.
Justin chuckled, then asked more seriously, "How's Olivia doing? Are you planning to send her abroad after this?"