Chapter 96 Cracks in the Lie
Olivia's POV:
"What are you thinking about?" Ethan's voice was hoarse.
I shook my head, unable to formulate thoughts while my mind was still processing the insane proposal he'd just made. Give him a child? My heart hammered against my ribs.
"I'm thinking about how ridiculous your bet is," I finally whispered.
Ethan's low laugh sent shivers down my spine. "Of course, I'm not asking you to have one now. When I want it, you'll give me a child. That's all."
"But don't you have to get married in two years?" I asked, my voice barely audible in the sterile room.
"That's my business," he replied, his eyes never leaving mine. "You only need to decide if you're brave enough to bet."
I shrank back. I couldn't take the risk—the stakes were too high. After a few seconds of tense silence, I lowered my head and whispered, "I'm sorry I doubted you."
Ethan raised his left hand to caress my face, his touch sending conflicting signals of comfort and possession. "You can doubt me. You can even bet against me. I'd prefer it if you did."
"Why?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"Because if you're willing to bet, it means you're not afraid to lose."
I stared at my hands, saying nothing. The implications of his words sank heavy in my chest.
Ethan withdrew his hand. "You haven't slept all night," he said, his voice suddenly distant. "Get some rest."
I surveyed the luxurious hospital room with its attached suite, complete with a sofa, TV, and mini-fridge. They'd spared no expense for him—not that I expected anything less for Ethan Bennett. I stood up, intending to sleep in the adjoining room.
"Where are you going?" Ethan's hand shot out to grab mine.
"To sleep?" I pointed toward the attached room.
Ethan patted the space beside him on the hospital bed. "Sleep here."
I froze. "I... I don't think that's appropriate. You're injured. What if..."
"No ifs." His grip on my hand tightened slightly.
I tried to pull away, but Ethan tugged me closer to the bed with surprising strength for someone supposedly gravely injured. We engaged in a brief, silent struggle that ended exactly as I knew it would—with me reluctantly climbing into bed beside him, my body tense.
"Relax," he whispered against my hair. "I won't break."
---
I awoke to the rhythmic patter of rain against banana leaves, the sound creating a disorienting tropical symphony. Opening my eyes to unfamiliar Southeast Asian architecture visible through the window, I momentarily thought I was still dreaming. It took several seconds for reality to settle in—I wasn't in LA anymore. I was in... Myanmar? The realization sent a spike of panic through me.
The rain-shrouded foreign city felt oppressive, the unfamiliarity breeding a primal fear. I sat up abruptly and turned to find the space beside me empty.
"Ethan?" My voice cracked with sleep and rising panic. I called his name several more times, each call more desperate than the last.
I scrambled out of bed, quickly slipping on my shoes. As I hurried toward the door, I passed the adjoining room and noticed its door was closed. I paused, then knocked.
Knock, knock, knock.
I was about to turn the handle when Ethan's assistant rushed into the room.
"Ms. Reed." He grabbed my arm, preventing me from opening the door. "Mr. Bennett asked me to take you out for breakfast."
My eyebrows knitted together. "Where's Ethan?"
"He's at the treatment room getting his bandages changed."
"Don't they do that in the patient's room?" I asked, my suspicion growing.
He shifted his weight. "The hospitals here operate differently than in the States. They have specialized treatment rooms."
"Where exactly is this treatment room?" I pressed.
"In the medical wing. There are security personnel with him," he added, sweat beading on his forehead.
I sat down on the sofa. "I'm not hungry yet. I'll wait for him to return."
He looked increasingly uncomfortable. "Ms. Reed, please don't make this difficult for me."
I glared at him. "How am I making things difficult? I'm just not hungry and want to wait for Ethan. Am I required to eat on your schedule now?"
"That's not what I meant," he stammered.
I softened my tone. "I just want to wait for him."
He fell silent, clearly unsure how to proceed.
Just then, a phone rang from inside the adjoining room—Ethan's distinctive ringtone. I recognized it immediately.
Without hesitation, I pushed past him and threw open the door. The room was empty, but Ethan's phone sat on the table, still ringing.
Lucas exhaled with obvious relief. "Ms. Reed, please, let's go get breakfast. Mr. Bennett will be back by the time we return."
"Fine," I conceded, suddenly curious about what they were hiding.
---
As we left the hospital wing, something occurred to me. "Doesn't this hospital have a cafeteria?"
The assistant stumbled over his words. "It's 2 PM—past lunch but too early for dinner. The cafeteria isn't serving now."
I nodded silently, not bothering to point out how unlikely that sounded. I wasn't about to waste energy investigating the cafeteria just to prove a point.
He drove me to the most luxurious five-star hotel in town. The restaurant blended local tribal aesthetics with Southeast Asian design elements. I ordered Cantonese cuisine, which was surprisingly good, and even packed some desserts to bring back.
When we returned to the hospital room, Ethan was lying in bed, still wrapped in bandages. I hurried to his side.
"Why didn't you tell me you were going for treatment?" I asked, my voice laced with concern.
Ethan's mouth quirked up slightly. "You were sleeping so peacefully. I didn't want to wake you."
I sat beside him and gently touched his bandaged head. "How often do they change your dressings? Can't they do it here in the room?"
"They can," he replied patiently. "But I have wounds all over my body. I'd need to be completely undressed. If you don't mind watching, I can have them do it here next time."
"I could just step out," I suggested. "Wait until you're done."
"You were asleep. I didn't want to disturb you."
I reluctantly accepted his explanation. "Have you eaten?"
"Yes."
"One more thing," I said, a thought suddenly striking me. "When do they give you your IV drip? You don't need to go to the treatment room for that, right?"
The room went deadly silent. Everyone—Ethan, Lucas, and the two security guards—froze.
Lucas cleared his throat nervously. "Mr. Bennett, I have a 4 PM appointment. If you don't need anything else, I'll be going now."
The security guards quickly followed him out, leaving me alone with Ethan.