Chapter 93 Yes, I've Fallen for Him
"Ethan's most likely dead."
Blake's words hit me like a physical blow. My body went cold, and I couldn't breathe. The world around me seemed to slow down, colors fading at the edges of my vision.
"What... what did you say?" I finally managed to whisper, my voice barely audible.
Blake's hollow laugh came through the phone. "You heard me, Olivia."
My mind went completely blank. I couldn't form a coherent thought, let alone speak.
"It wasn't me," Blake continued. "I'm not that despicable."
My voice trembled uncontrollably. "Then who?"
Blake's voice still carried that strange, detached amusement. "Remember what I told you? About how he went south to bust that drug cartel? There's something I didn't mention. While he was there, he also took down the biggest crime syndicate in the northern region. He killed their second-in-command, cut off his head, and hung it on a stake for three days and nights."
I remained silent, unable to process what I was hearing.
"He received severe disciplinary action for that incident. And Ethan being Ethan—cold and arrogant—resigned his commission in anger."
I wasn't sure if Blake was telling the truth, but I still gripped the phone tightly, hanging on his every word.
"To this day, there's a high price on his head. Hitmen from around the world have taken contracts. The moment he stepped into the Golden Triangle, he basically had one foot in hell."
My heart pounded against my ribs. "You led him there, didn't you?" The realization hit me suddenly, my voice turning cold. "That's why you wanted to take me to Bangkok. You said I'd be safe with your uncle there. But now I understand—you knew all along he couldn't go to Bangkok. That's exactly why you wanted to take me there."
Blake didn't get angry at my accusation. Instead, he laughed softly. "Why are you blaming me, Olivia? I'm helping you. Do you even know who Ethan Bennett really is?"
I didn't respond. The truth was, I didn't.
"Everyone who's ever interacted with my uncle knows he's cold-blooded. When he's ruthless, he doesn't care about family ties. Even my great-grandfather said Ethan has a violent streak—like a blood-soaked sword. In the Middle East or ancient wartimes, he would have been a warlord."
He paused, then asked, "Olivia, do you really think you can handle someone like him?"
"I never wanted to handle him," I replied quietly. "I just wanted him to be safe and alive."
Blake's voice suddenly darkened. "Olivia, have you actually fallen in love with Ethan?"
The familiar question made me forget momentarily about the devastating news of Ethan's possible death. I'd heard this question so many times before—Ethan asking if I still loved Blake, Blake asking if I'd fallen for Ethan.
I wanted to say I didn't love either of them.
After a few seconds of silence, I spoke softly: "Yes, I've fallen in love with Ethan."
It was the only way to end Blake's fantasies.
"No!" Blake shouted. "I don't believe you!"
I remained silent. Why ask if you won't believe the answer?
"Olivia, listen to me—" Blake began, but I hung up.
After ending the call, I tried to collect myself. I couldn't believe what Blake had said. Or rather, I didn't want to believe Ethan was gone. He couldn't be—not now.
I frantically dialed Ethan's number, but there was no answer. I tried again and again, each unanswered call making my panic worse. My heart was racing so fast it hurt, and my breathing became erratic.
I ran inside the house as fast as I'd ever moved. Sarah, who had seen me take the call and suddenly dash off, looked confused but quickly followed me.
"Walter!" I shouted breathlessly as I burst into the house.
Walter had been watering plants in the back garden. Hearing my cry, he hurried inside. "Miss Reed? What's wrong?"
"Walter, please call Ethan right away," I pleaded. "I've been trying to reach him, but he's not answering."
Walter wiped his hands on a cloth, pulled out his phone from his pocket, and dialed Ethan's number. The phone rang for nearly a minute before automatically disconnecting.
My breathing grew more desperate, like all the air had been sucked from the room. I needed to take deep breaths just to function.
"Try again, please try once more," I begged, my forehead damp with sweat.
Walter dialed again while trying to reassure me. "Please don't worry, Miss Reed. Mr. Bennett is probably in a meeting or discussing a project with partners. Once he's finished, he'll contact you."
He added gently, "If you need anything, just tell me."
"I don't need anything. I just want to know if he's okay," I replied, my brow furrowed with concern.
"Don't panic. I'll call his assistant right away. Mr. Bennett usually takes him on international trips," Walter said calmly.
I nodded anxiously. "Yes, please."
Just as Walter was about to dial, his phone rang. He checked the screen. "It's the assistant."
"Answer it, quickly!" I urged.
Walter connected the call. "Hello, Miss Reed is trying to reach Mr. Bennett. Is he—what?" His usually composed face suddenly registered shock as he glanced at me.
"I understand. I'll arrange everything immediately," he said before hanging up.
Walter's forehead creased into a deep frown, his expression more somber than a funeral.
My heart sank completely. I felt the blood in my veins turning cold. Looking at Walter's grave expression, I couldn't bring myself to ask about Ethan. I was terrified of the answer.
After a tense silence, Walter finally spoke. "Miss Reed, Mr. Bennett is ill. He wants you to come to him."
"Ill?" My voice rose sharply with alarm. "Is he just ill, or has something happened to him?"
Walter reluctantly told me the truth. "His assistant said Mr. Bennett has been injured, but it's not serious. He should be out of intensive care tomorrow."
I stared at him in disbelief. Intensive care didn't sound "not serious" to me.
My heart lurched in my chest like a roller coaster, only settling back when I realized Ethan was at least alive. The weight of potential grief lifted slightly, replaced by urgent concern.
Walter asked gently, "The assistant would like you to come. Would you like to go?"