Chapter 140 She's Nothing Special
Author's POV:
Blake Bennett didn't make it back until Christmas Day itself. His flight landed at LAX at six-thirty in the evening, and by the time he reached the Bennett family estate in Beverly Hills, it was already eight o'clock.
Three months of intensive training on a private island had transformed him. The once cocky playboy with designer clothes and a perpetual smirk had been replaced by someone altogether different—a hardened man with cold eyes and a dangerous edge.
When Blake stepped into the grand foyer of the Bennett mansion, the Christmas dinner was already in full swing. Hannah Bennett was the first to gasp at the sight of her nephew.
"My God, is this really our pampered little prince?" she exclaimed, her champagne glass frozen halfway to her lips.
Blake's face remained expressionless. "Aunt Hannah," he acknowledged with a curt nod.
His eyes methodically swept the room as he continued the obligatory greetings. "Great-grandfather. Grandfather. Grandmother."
Though Ashley Bennett wasn't Blake's biological grandmother—she was his grandfather's second wife—protocol dictated that Blake address her as "Grandmother." He'd been calling her that since childhood anyway, having no memories of his actual grandmother.
After greeting the direct line, Blake turned to the extended family—his grandfather's younger brother, Samuel Bennett, and his branch of the family who joined them every Christmas while the Bennett patriarch was still alive.
Then came the "uncles."
"Uncle Mason," Blake said, nodding at Ethan's older brother.
Then, lifting his chin slightly, Blake locked eyes with Ethan. His jaw tightened visibly as he forced out each syllable: "Uncle. Ethan."
The room temperature seemed to drop several degrees.
Richard Bennett quickly intervened. "Alright, now that you're back, let's all enjoy this gathering. It's rare enough that the family comes together—no one is to spoil it."
The dining room in the main building featured an enormous marble round table, specifically designed for family gatherings. The Bennett patriarch, Richard and Ashley Bennett, Samuel and his wife, along with Ethan, Mason, Hannah, and Blake, all gathered around it, with several spaces still vacant.
The seating arrangement followed age hierarchy. The Bennett patriarch occupied the main position, with Richard to his left and Samuel to his right. Ashley sat next to Richard, with Hannah beside her. Mason, ever observant, quickly claimed the seat next to Hannah.
The remaining spots presented a dilemma for Blake—no matter where he sat, he would end up next to Ethan.
Mason, clearly wanting to avoid sitting beside his stone-faced younger brother, smiled at Blake. "Come over here, Blake. Sit next to your Uncle Mason."
Blake, now weighing in at about 165 pounds—with approximately 163 of those pounds being pure rebellion—had other ideas. He pulled out a chair on the opposite side, deliberately sitting next to Jonathan Bennett, Samuel's son.
"You don't mind me sitting here, Uncle Jonathan, do you?" Blake asked with an artificial smile.
Jonathan grinned back. "Not at all. Having the youngest Bennett at my side is an honor."
Blake was indeed the youngest male in the family at present. Hannah's son Liam was a few months older than Blake, but he was spending Christmas with his father's family this year. Hannah had divorced a decade ago, sharing custody of their son.
Ethan said nothing, his face impassive as he took his seat.
During dinner, Blake deliberately antagonized Ethan. Whenever Ethan reached for a dish, Blake would reach for the same one, purposely blocking him.
SLAM!
Ethan forcefully set down his knife and fork on the table. His voice cut through the din like ice. "Apparently three months of training wasn't enough, was it?"
"That's enough," Richard's voice dropped dangerously low. "Can we not have one decent meal on Christmas?"
Ethan stood abruptly, turning away from the table and striding toward the entrance hall without another word.
"Where do you think you're going?" Richard demanded coldly.
Ethan ignored him, reached the foyer, yanked open the front door, and walked out into the night.
Jonathan quickly put down his utensils, wiping his mouth. "Don't worry, Uncle Richard. I'll check on him," he said with a forced smile as he hurried out.
Blake also set down his silverware and turned to leave the dining room.
"And where are you going?" Richard called after him.
Without turning back, Blake replied, "Bathroom."
Once in the bathroom, Blake pulled out his phone and called Michael Bennett.
Blake and Michael were distant cousins on paper, but their relationship through the family tree was closer than it appeared. Michael's great-grandfather had been the elder brother of Blake's great-grandfather—the current Bennett patriarch.
"Michael, get your ass to the estate right now. Say you're coming to hang out with me," Blake said in a hushed tone.
"Holy shit, you're back? When did you get in?" Michael asked.
"Just got here after eight. Fucking come over, okay? We need to talk," Blake insisted.
After hanging up, Blake returned to the dining table, casually checking his phone between bites.
Before long, Michael arrived. He greeted everyone according to their rank in the family hierarchy, then turned to Richard. "Uncle Richard, mind if Blake comes to my place for a bit?"
Before Richard could answer, the Bennett patriarch waved his hand dismissively. "Go on, go on."
Blake grinned. "Great-grandfather, I'll just sleep at Michael's tonight."
The old man nodded. "Fine, just be back early on New Year's Day."
Once they were outside the Bennett estate, Michael moved closer to Blake. "Okay, spill it. What the hell are you plotting now?"
Blake's eyes narrowed. "I'm going to Oakwood Estate. You're coming with me and covering for me."
"What?" Michael's voice shot up in alarm. "You want to go to Uncle Ethan's place?"
Blake shot him a withering look. "Why don't you just announce it with a bullhorn?"
Michael shoved him lightly. "Are you fucking suicidal or what?"
Blake clenched his back teeth so hard they might crack. "As long as I have breath in my body, I'm going to take Olivia back."
Michael stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "I honestly don't get it. What's so special about this girl that has both you and Uncle Ethan acting like you've been fucking bewitched?"
Blake looked up at the dark, threatening sky, his face even darker. "I don't know. Maybe she was something special once. Maybe she's nothing special at all. But whether she's worth it or not, I refuse to let someone take what's mine."
Michael studied him for a moment. "So you're saying you don't even like her anymore?"