Chapter 66 Betting Against Family
That night, I didn't refuse Ethan anything. Positions I'd previously avoided, things I'd been too shy to try—I accepted it all. When we finally collapsed into bed near dawn, I curled into his side, completely spent.
"Sleep," he murmured, stroking my hair with tenderness.
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Ethan's bedroom.
"Good morning," Ethan said, already dressed in casual linen pants and a white button-down, looking impossibly fresh despite our late night. "We have plans today."
"What kind of plans?" I asked, pulling the sheet up to cover myself.
He smiled. "Let's go to my private beach today. Wear the blue sundress."
Two hours later, I sat under an umbrella on Ethan's Malibu beach, watching him surf. The sun glinted off the water as he expertly rode each wave.
"I'll teach you someday," he'd offered when we arrived.
"I'll just watch," I replied, settling onto the lounger.
While he continued surfing, I walked to a small gazebo hidden by palm trees and pulled out my phone to FaceTime Emma and Grace.
Their worried faces appeared immediately on screen.
"Liv! Where the hell have you been?" Emma demanded. "We were about to call the police yesterday!"
"I was kidnapped," I said quietly.
"WHAT?!" Grace's voice jumped an octave. "Are you fucking serious? What happened?"
"There's something I haven't told you guys," I said, taking a deep breath. "I have a boyfriend."
"We know that," Grace said, rolling her eyes.
"Grace, shut up," Emma snapped. "Let her talk."
"He's Blake's uncle."
Their faces froze on screen.
"Blake's uncle?" Emma finally managed.
"Yes, and Ethan's cousin had me kidnapped yesterday," I explained briefly.
"Wait," Grace asked, "someone from the Bennett family tried to hurt you? Are you safe?"
"With Ethan, I'm safe," I said. "But I probably can't hang out with you guys anymore. I don't want to put you in danger."
When I spotted Ethan approaching across the beach, I quickly ended the call. "I have to go."
"Ready for lunch?" he asked, extending his hand.
"Sure," I replied, taking it and following him back toward the beach house.
---
That afternoon, Ethan took me to his private art gallery in the Malibu hills. He guided me through his impressive collection, sharing details about each piece with surprising passion.
"What's your favorite art form?" he asked unexpectedly.
"Music," I answered. "Piano and vocal."
He nodded. "We'll attend the symphony next week, then."
On the drive back, his phone buzzed repeatedly. I noticed he checked it but didn't answer.
"You don't have to ignore work for me," I said.
Ethan's expression softened. "Some things are more important than business," he replied, taking my hand.
I turned to look out the window, surprised by the warm feeling his simple statement created.
---
After the Independence Day weekend, I returned to UCLA campus. I met Emma and Grace at our favorite campus café, sliding into a booth across from them.
"So how exactly did you meet Ethan Bennett?" Emma asked bluntly, keeping her voice low.
I sipped my latte, choosing my words carefully. "Last summer. Blake took me to the family estate, and I met his uncle."
"Did he force you into this?" Grace frowned, concern evident in her eyes.
I laughed softly. "No, it was voluntary. My grandfather was in the hospital at the time, and Ethan helped me. Plus, he's mature and stable. I've always preferred older men."
If Ethan weren't Blake's uncle, if he didn't have such an overwhelming need to control everything, he might actually fit my ideal type perfectly.
---
A few weeks later came my nineteenth birthday. I expected something low-key—maybe an expensive gift and dinner at Oakwood Estate. But Ethan Bennett never did anything by halves.
He rented out the Crystal Ballroom at the Beverly Hills Hotel, decorating it with white orchids and crystal chandeliers. When we arrived, I was shocked to find Hollywood A-listers, music industry icons, and even my teenage idol performing just for me.
"Oh my God," I gasped, overwhelmed with surprise and emotion. Tears welled in my eyes as I looked up at him. "You didn't tell me any of this!"
Ethan smiled down at me. "It wouldn't be a surprise if I had."
I was genuinely touched. Though I knew such extravagance was nothing to him, he'd clearly put thought into what would make me happy. Throughout the night, Ethan kept his arm around me as we moved through the glittering crowd, stopping to accept drinks or exchange pleasantries.
I gradually realized this wasn't just a birthday celebration. It was a declaration. By parading me through his social circle, Ethan was announcing to everyone that Olivia Reed belonged to him. From now on, I was untouchable.
Guests approached from all directions, offering birthday wishes and champagne toasts. The attention was overwhelming but thrilling.
Suddenly, Ethan's phone rang. Without letting me go, he pulled it from his pocket and answered, keeping me pressed against his side.
"Dad," he said simply.
I couldn't hear the caller's voice, but Ethan's entire demeanor shifted. His body tensed, jaw tightening as he listened.
"A destructive path?" Ethan's laugh was cold and sharp. "What exactly is a destructive path? Is it when your golden boy sleeps with college girls, juggling multiple relationships? Is it when your second son treats the entertainment industry like his personal harem, coercing aspiring actresses? Why is it only destructive when I do it?"
I stared up at him, shocked by the sudden venom in his voice.
Ethan's eyes lowered, his smile growing colder as he continued. "Have you abandoned them, or do you just favor them? Your firstborn with your college sweetheart gets to be as irresponsible as he pleases. Even your second son with your replacement wife doesn't have to shoulder any responsibilities. Only me—I'm the tool you created to bring glory to the family name."
He paused, listening. I could feel his heart pounding against me.
"Mom, if you're going to mention Mia, don't even bother," he said suddenly, confirming that his father must have put his mother on the phone.
Another pause, his breathing controlled but deep.
"Oh?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft. "Bet what?"