Chapter 78 Shots Fired
Author's POV:
"Hello?" Olivia answered.
"Ms. Reed?" A formal male voice responded. "This is Philippe. I apologize for disturbing you at this hour."
She sat up straighter, instantly alert.
"Mr. Bennett asked me to inform you that plans have changed. You'll be leaving Brussels tomorrow morning."
Leaving? Olivia clutched the phone tighter. I thought he wanted me to stay here until he returned.
---
The scorching Tijuana sun beat down mercilessly as Ethan stood amid the charred remains of what had once been a state-of-the-art pharmaceutical research facility. The Bennett Pharmaceuticals Development Center had been the crown jewel of their Mexican operations—until last night.
"How bad is it?" Ethan asked, his voice deadly calm as he surveyed the blackened equipment and shattered glass.
The head of security handed him a tablet displaying a preliminary damage report. "The fire was contained to the east wing, sir, but the damage is... extensive. We're looking at approximately sixty million in equipment loss alone, not counting the data and research setbacks."
"Show me the security footage."
Martinez swiped to a new screen, displaying crisp black-and-white footage of figures moving with precision through the labs, systematically destroying specific equipment and terminals.
Ethan's expression didn't change, but something dangerous flickered in his eyes. "What else?"
Martinez reached into his jacket and produced a sealed envelope. "He left this for you, sir. It was taped to the only undamaged computer in the east wing."
Ethan took the envelope, tearing it open with one smooth motion. Inside was a photograph of Olivia on her college campus, laughing at something off-camera. She looked carefree, beautiful, and painfully young. Turning the photo over, he read the handwritten message on the back:
"She'll never love someone like you."
A muscle in Ethan's jaw twitched as he crushed the photo in his fist.
"Find him," he said, his voice cold as Arctic water. "Now."
---
Blake Bennett paced the length of the abandoned warehouse, checking his phone for the fifth time in as many minutes. The Mexico-California border stretched in the distance, tantalizingly close yet impossible to reach now that his uncle had found him.
"We're completely surrounded," his friend reported, lowering binoculars from the dust-streaked window. "Six black SUVs. Professional security teams. They've got the perimeter locked down."
"Fuck," Blake muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Did you really think this was worth it?" Jared asked, his voice tight with anxiety. "Trashing your uncle's facility over a girl? Come on, Blake. Just call him, apologize, promise to pay for the damages—"
"This isn't about a fucking girl!" Blake snapped, though they both knew that was a lie. "This is about principle. About dignity."
"I pursued Olivia for an entire year. Finally got her to be my girlfriend. Brought her home, excited to show her off, and what happens? He fucking takes her. Just like that." He snapped his fingers. "Like I'm some child whose toy he decided to claim."
"It's not worth dying over," Jared insisted, backing away from the window as armed security personnel moved into position.
Blake's lips curved into a bitter smile. "You think he'd kill his own nephew? Over a girl?"
---
The warehouse door crashed open under the force of a tactical entry. Ethan walked in calmly behind his security team. His gaze swept the space before landing on Blake, who was being restrained by two security officers.
Despite being physically restrained, Blake managed a defiant smirk.
"You can kill me if you want," Blake said, his bravado wavering slightly as Ethan's cold gaze bored into him. "But if I die, Olivia will remember me forever. And she'll hate you for the rest of her life."
Something shifted in Ethan's expression—a flicker of calculation. "Is that so?" He pulled out a handgun, checked the chamber with practiced ease, and pointed it toward Blake.
The bullet whistled past Blake's ear, shattering the window of the SUV behind him. In the echoing silence that followed, Blake's harsh, panicked breathing was the only sound.
After several long moments, Blake regained his composure, though his body trembled visibly. Ethan stepped forward, placed the gun in Blake's hand, and patted his shoulder with mock affection.
"You're still young," Ethan said, his tone that of an indulgent elder. "I'll overlook this childish outburst. A bit of rebellion is expected at your age. But—" His voice hardened abruptly. "Push too far, and there will be consequences."
Ethan turned to leave, then stopped and looked back. "I owe you for bringing her into my life. Whatever you want—money, power—I can give it to you."
Blake clenched his jaw, eyes blazing with hatred as he watched Ethan's retreating figure. "Uncle!" he called out, rushing forward. "Have you even considered Olivia's feelings in all this?"
Ethan halted, a vein visibly pulsing at his temple.
"You don't understand her," Blake continued recklessly. "She's not some trophy to be won or intimidated. If she were that type of person, I would have had her the moment she learned my last name was Bennett. It took me a year of pursuit to get her attention."
"She'll treat you the same way she treated me. Your name, your power, your money—none of it will impress her. And the fact that you're my uncle will only make her resent you more."
Every word was true, and each one struck Ethan like a blade. His expression darkened dangerously.
"Are you finished?" he asked, his voice deceptively soft.
Blake instinctively stepped back, momentarily cowed by the menace radiating from his uncle. Yet he pressed on: "Uncle, stop imprisoning her. It's pointless. The harder you try to control her, the more she'll hate you. One day, she'll leave you."
Ethan's lips curved into a humorless smile. He calmly unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled the sleeves to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms mapped with prominent veins.
Blake's earlier confidence faltered. Years of ingrained fear of his formidable uncle resurfaced, but he stood his ground. "I always thought you were different—honorable. I looked up to you. But you're just like my father, willing to stoop to any level when it comes to women!"
"I have no honor?" Ethan laughed bitterly. "I've only had one woman in my life—Olivia. That's still fewer than you've bedded, dear nephew. Which of us truly lacks principles?"
Blake's retort died in his throat, unable to counter the truth in Ethan's words. Before he could recover, Ethan's fist connected with his face, followed by a powerful kick that sent him stumbling backward.
Blake attempted to regain his balance, but Ethan struck again, his fist crashing into Blake's other cheek and sending him sprawling to the floor. Before he could rise, Ethan's foot pressed down on his chest.
"I tried reasoning with you," Ethan said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "You refused to listen, forcing my hand."
Despite his bloodied mouth and bruised face, Blake managed a defiant laugh. "Olivia will never love you. She'll never truly be yours. Eventually, she'll leave you, and there's nothing you can do about it."
Ethan's expression remained unchanged as he delivered a final kick that sent Blake rolling several feet away.