Chapter 83 Kneeling for Olivia
Author's POV:
The bright lights of the Mexican private hospital emergency room highlighted the tension on Ethan's face as he carried Olivia through the doors. His jaw clenched as he demanded immediate assistance.
"Get me the best doctor here. Now!"
The medical staff approached with a gurney, but Ethan held onto Olivia until a doctor in a white coat arrived. A team quickly surrounded them, connecting monitors and starting an IV while Ethan watched with growing concern.
"No severe injuries," the physician concluded. "Just exhaustion, dehydration, and low blood sugar from the travel, drug injection, and stress. She needs rest and can't fly for several days."
Ethan took a seat beside Olivia's bed, holding her hand to his lips before pressing it against his cheek. His eyes remained fixed on her face, watching for any sign of recovery.
Half an hour later, Olivia's eyelids fluttered open. She immediately tried to pull her hand away when she realized it was in Ethan's grip, but fear made her freeze instead.
Ethan felt her slight movement and looked up, his eyes locking with hers. He tightened his hold on her hand slightly, a warning not to pull away.
"Ethan," she whispered weakly.
Ethan released her hand only to lean closer, his fingers brushing across her pale cheek. "Still dizzy?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.
"My head is spinning. I feel so weak," Olivia admitted.
Ethan reached into his pocket and produced a chocolate bar. He unwrapped it methodically, breaking off a piece before bringing it to her lips. "Eat. The doctor said your blood sugar is dangerously low."
Olivia accepted the chocolate, her tongue accidentally grazing his fingertips as she took it into her mouth.
Ethan's lips curved into a subtle smile, his voice deepening. "Sweet enough?"
"Sweet," Olivia murmured with chocolate still melting in her mouth.
A knock interrupted them. One of Ethan's security personnel appeared at the doorway, standing at attention.
"Out in the hall," Ethan ordered curtly, his tenderness vanishing instantly.
In the corridor, their voices carried through the partially open door.
"We've taken care of them as instructed, sir. They're being treated in a separate wing."
"Fine. Leave them there," Ethan replied coldly.
"Should we arrange transport back to the States for them?"
Ethan's phone rang, cutting off their conversation. He answered it with a terse, "Grandpa."
An older man's voice boomed through the speaker. "You'll be home by tomorrow night at the latest. I don't care how busy your business is—you will appear at the family house tomorrow evening."
"Tomorrow? I'm in the middle of negotiations. I can't get back yet," Ethan replied.
"Don't be ridiculous," Ethan said, his voice tightly controlled. "You're retired. Just enjoy it and stop interfering."
"Fine. Five days. Not a day less," Ethan replied.
---
On the fifth day, they boarded his private jet back to California. As soon as they landed, Aiden Bennett called again.
"Are you back?" he demanded without greeting.
"Just landed. I'll be there in an hour," Ethan replied tersely.
After ending the call, Ethan instructed his driver to take Olivia back to Oakwood Estate. He called Walter, instructing him to ensure her safety and comfort.
As the car pulled away from the airport, Olivia grabbed his hand, suddenly anxious. "What's happening? Is everything okay?"
Ethan stroked her hair reassuringly. "Nothing for you to worry about. Get some rest and focus on recovering."
"Is it because of me?" she asked quietly, her stomach knotting with guilt.
"Don't be ridiculous," he said firmly. "It's just business matters. Now go home and sleep."
Olivia nodded and slipped into the car, watching his figure grow smaller in the window as they drove away.
---
Bennett Estate
All household staff had been dismissed. In the courtyard waited only family members: Richard Bennett in a rocking chair sipping coffee, Nathan Bennett standing stiffly nearby, Ashley Bennett sitting primly in a garden chair, and Blake kneeling on the stone with his bare upper body.
"Remove your jacket and shirt. Kneel beside your nephew," Richard commanded with a thin smile.
Ethan removed his jacket and hung it on a hook. He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his muscular chest, then walked to his grandfather. With practiced movements, he knelt on the hard stone, removed his shirt completely, and gripped it in one hand, ready for what was coming.
Aiden gestured to a security guard. "Bring the whip. Thirty lashes each."
The guard returned with a leather whip that had clearly been used for similar purposes before. He dipped it in water, then dried it with a cloth.
With a sharp crack, the first lash landed across Ethan's back, immediately raising an angry red welt. Ethan didn't make a sound, merely lowering his head slightly, his hands resting on his thighs.
By the thirtieth lash, Ethan's entire back was a bloody canvas of intersecting welts. Blood trickled down his spine, disappearing into the waistband of his black trousers. He rose to his feet with the same controlled composure, slipping his black shirt over his wounded back without wincing.
He faced his grandfather directly. "May I go now?"
Aiden sipped his coffee unhurriedly. "Ethan, I'm giving you two years. The girl graduates in two years, correct?"
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "What are you implying?"
Aiden smiled benignly. "You're 29 now. By 31, you will be married. If not to Victoria, then to someone appropriate—but not this college girl. You may marry anyone else, but not her. A girl who has both you and your nephew wrapped around her finger isn't worthy. She's clearly manipulative."
Ethan turned back to face his grandfather, tilting his head slightly with a thin smile. "Grandfather, I find her suitable. That's what matters."
Without warning, he knelt again, his expression defiant despite his position. "If you disapprove, continue until you're satisfied. I won't marry anyone else."
Aiden set down his cup and grabbed the whip from the guard. With a vicious swing, he lashed Ethan across the neck, leaving a thumb-thick bloody mark.
Ashley bit her lip, clearly distressed but unable to intervene.
Richard stepped forward. "Father, please don't strain yourself over this trivial matter. Give me the whip—I'll handle it."
Ethan laughed coldly. "You? What right do you have to discipline me? You married a social-climbing housekeeper against grandmother's wishes and produced a troublemaking son. Then you found yourself an adult film star and fathered another promiscuous failure. Now you presume to lecture me? How absurd."
Richard's face contorted with rage. He snatched the whip and lashed out, aiming for Ethan's face.
Ethan turned his head slightly, causing the whip to strike his other neck side, catching his jaw and lip in the process. Blood immediately trickled from his split lip.
"Stop this!" Ashley cried out, tears streaming down her face as she rushed forward to embrace Ethan protectively.