OBSESSION

EIGHTEEN

The winding gravel road leading to the vineyard was flanked by endless rows of lush, verdant vines that stretched across the rolling hills like a vibrant green quilt. The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the landscape, its warm light dappling the leaves and shimmering on the gently swaying tendrils. As Logan's sleek black car crested the final hill, Bethany gasped, her eyes widening at the view before her.

Nestled at the heart of the estate was a sprawling villa, its terracotta-tiled roof glowing in the sunlight. The stone walls were aged to a soft honey color, and ivy crawled up its sides in a way that spoke of history and care. Beyond the villa, a glistening lake reflected the azure sky, surrounded by flower-dotted meadows that completed the picturesque scene.

"It's like something out of a movie," Bethany breathed, leaning forward to get a better look as Logan parked near the villa's grand stone steps. "Logan, this is... incredible."

Logan smiled as he stepped out of the car, walking around to open her door. "Wait until you see the inside," he said, offering her his hand.

Bethany took his hand, stepping onto the gravel path and inhaling deeply. The air was crisp, tinged with the earthy aroma of vines and faintly sweet blossoms. She turned in a slow circle, trying to take it all in.

"This is your family's?" she asked, her voice tinged with awe.

Logan nodded, his gaze soft as he watched her. "My parents bought it years ago as a retreat. It's private, peaceful... a perfect getaway."

As they ascended the steps, a man in a crisp white chef's coat stepped out of the villa, wiping his hands on a towel tucked into his apron. His warm smile and ruddy cheeks immediately put Bethany at ease.

"Mr. Chase," he greeted Logan with a nod before turning to Bethany. "And you must be Miss Bethany. Welcome to the vineyard."

Bethany smiled, her cheeks warming. "Thank you. It's beautiful."

"This is Chef Anton," Logan introduced. "He's the reason we won't be going hungry this weekend."

Chef Anton chuckled. "I've got something special planned for tonight—locally sourced, of course. I'll let you two get settled. Dinner will be ready in an hour."

"Thank you, Anton," Logan said before leading Bethany inside.

The interior of the villa was as breathtaking as its exterior. High, beamed ceilings gave the space an airy feel, while the terracotta floors and rustic wooden furniture exuded warmth. A grand stone fireplace dominated the living room, its mantel decorated with antique vases and family photos. The open floor plan revealed a kitchen with gleaming copper pots hanging above a marble island, and a dining room with floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the vineyard beyond.

"This place," Bethany murmured, her voice trailing off as she turned in a slow circle. "It's magical."

Logan smiled, carrying her bag up the wide staircase. "Come on. Let's get you settled before dinner."

The guest bedroom Logan had prepared for her was equally stunning, with a plush king-sized bed framed by a carved wooden headboard and dressed in soft cream linens. The French doors opened to a private balcony overlooking the vineyard, where the vines seemed to stretch endlessly under the golden light of the setting sun.

Bethany unpacked quickly, slipping into a flowy, knee-length sundress in a soft shade of lavender that complemented her skin. She pulled her curls into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, letting a few tendrils frame her face. Taking one last glance at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement.

When she came downstairs, Logan was waiting for her in the dining room, dressed casually in a navy button-up shirt and khaki pants. The table was set for two, adorned with a simple yet elegant arrangement of wildflowers in a ceramic vase. Candles flickered softly, casting a warm glow that mingled with the golden hues of the setting sun streaming through the windows.

Chef Anton appeared moments later, wheeling in a cart laden with their meal. The aroma was heavenly—roasted garlic, fresh herbs, and something rich and savory that made Bethany's mouth water.

"For tonight," Anton began, placing the first dish in front of Bethany, "we have a wild mushroom risotto with truffle oil, paired with a lightly seared salmon and a side of charred asparagus. For dessert, a lemon tart with a berry compote."

Bethany's eyes widened as she took in the presentation. "This looks amazing. Thank you."

Anton nodded with a smile. "Enjoy," he said before retreating to the kitchen.

Logan poured them each a glass of wine from a bottle already opened on the table. The deep ruby liquid shimmered in the candlelight as he handed Bethany her glass.

"To a weekend without distractions," Logan said, raising his glass.

Bethany smiled, clinking her glass against his. "To magical places and unexpected getaways."

As they began to eat, the conversation flowed easily. Bethany savored the rich, earthy flavors of the risotto, occasionally stealing glances at Logan. He seemed more relaxed here, away from the pressures of the city, and it was a side of him she found herself drawn to.

"This is incredible," she said, gesturing to her plate. "I'm not sure I'll ever want to leave."

Logan leaned back in his chair, a teasing smile on his lips. "That's the idea. Keep you here long enough, and you won't want to go back to the office."

Bethany laughed softly, taking another sip of wine. "I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind."

She leaned back in her chair, releasing his hand and tracing the rim of her wine glass with her fingertip, her thoughts swirling as she considered how much to share in return.

"There's something you should know about me too," Bethany began, her voice soft but steady.

Logan tilted his head, his green eyes focused entirely on her. "I'm listening."

Bethany let out a quiet sigh, gathering her thoughts. "You know my stepfather is influential," she started, her lips curving into a rueful smile. "What you might not know is how much that's shaped me—how much it's defined my life, whether I wanted it to or not."

Logan nodded, encouraging her silently to continue.

"My stepfather's name is Charles Aldridge," Bethany said, her gaze flickering to gauge Logan's reaction.

Logan's brows lifted in recognition. "Charles Aldridge? The real estate mogul? The man practically built half the skyscrapers in London."

Bethany gave a small nod. "That's him. He married my mom when I was ten. She was already someone who believed in perfection—retired beauty queen turned philanthropist—but when Charles came into the picture, the bar got raised even higher. Suddenly, I wasn't just Bethany anymore; I was Charles Aldridge's stepdaughter."

Logan reached for her hand again, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "That must've been overwhelming."

"It was," she admitted. "It was like every move I made, every grade I got, or even the way I dressed—it was all a reflection of him. Teachers, family friends, even strangers—they all expected me to be this poised, ambitious, brilliant version of myself, molded by him. Anything less? Let's just say it wasn't acceptable."

Logan frowned, his lips pressing into a firm line. "That's a lot of pressure for a kid."

"It was," Bethany agreed. "And as I got older, it only got harder. People started to assume that anything I achieved was because of him. When I got into Virginia Tech, I heard whispers that it was only because of his connections. Even job interviews... there were times I felt like they didn't see me—they just saw Charles Aldridge's name attached to me."

Logan's grip on her hand tightened slightly, his gaze steady. "That's not fair. And it's definitely not true."

"I know that now," Bethany said quickly, offering a small smile. "But it took a long time to believe it. That's why I've worked so hard to prove myself on my own terms. I don't want to be seen as Charles Aldridge's stepdaughter. I want to be seen as Bethany Scott, someone who earned her place."

Logan's expression softened, his thumb tracing slow circles over her hand. "That explains so much," he said quietly. "Your drive, your focus—it's clear you've carved your own path. No one could question that."

Bethany hesitated before speaking again, her gaze dropping to their joined hands. "That's why Juliette's comments got under my skin. I've spent so much time building my own identity, stepping out from under Charles's shadow, and then... she comes along. Her words made me doubt myself again, even if just for a second. The last thing I ever want is for people to think I got to where I am because of someone else."

Logan's other hand reached up, tilting her chin so their eyes met.

"Bethany," he said firmly, his voice steady but full of warmth. "You didn't get to where you are because of me, or Charles, or anyone else. You're here because you're brilliant, talented, and relentless. Don't let anyone, especially Juliette, take that away from you."

Bethany's eyes stung with emotion, but she blinked it away, nodding. "Thank you," she murmured.

Logan smiled softly, leaning in to brush a kiss against her forehead. "Thank you for telling me this," he said. "I know it couldn't have been easy."

Bethany exhaled, a weight she hadn't realized she was carrying lifting off her shoulders. "It's easier with you," she echoed his earlier words, a small smile breaking through.

Logan grinned, his green eyes shining in the candlelight. "Then I guess we make a pretty good team."

Bethany laughed softly, the sound blending with the quiet hum of the cicadas. "Yeah," she said, a sense of peace settling over her. "We do."

The vineyard was cloaked in twilight, the golden hues of sunset giving way to a blanket of stars that began to glitter across the velvet sky. Lanterns hung from wrought-iron hooks along the rows of grapevines, casting a soft glow over the lush greenery. The air was crisp with the faint aroma of ripened grapes and earth, mingling with the distant hum of crickets.

Bethany adjusted the light shawl around her shoulders, her soft curls framing her face as the breeze teased her hair. She wore a flowing ivory sundress that skimmed her knees, paired with delicate sandals. A single gold bracelet adorned her wrist, catching the lantern light every time she moved. Logan, standing beside her, looked effortlessly dashing in a fitted navy blazer over a white shirt, the top two buttons casually undone.

"This is... breathtaking," Bethany said, her voice barely above a whisper as they strolled down the vine-lined path.

"I thought you'd like it," Logan said with a soft smile, his green eyes glowing warmly as he glanced at her. "This is one of my favorite spots on the vineyard."

She tilted her head, studying him. "You have a lot of favorite spots here, don't you?"

"Guilty," he admitted with a small chuckle. "But this one's different. Come on, I want to show you something."

He took her hand, his grip firm yet gentle, and led her further down the path. Bethany's heart thrummed as she followed, her sandals crunching softly against the gravel. The path opened to a secluded clearing framed by grapevines, where a small, intimate table had been set. A crisp white tablecloth draped over it, anchored by a simple bouquet of lavender and wildflowers in a mason jar. Candles flickered in glass holders, casting golden light over the polished wooden chairs.

"You set all this up?" Bethany asked, her lips curving into an incredulous smile as her gaze darted from the table to Logan.

"Had some help," he admitted, pulling out her chair for her. "But the idea was mine."

She sat down, her fingers trailing over the edge of the tablecloth. "It's perfect, Logan. You didn't have to go all out."

He took his seat across from her, leaning in slightly, his voice low and intimate. "Bethany, for you, I'll always go all out."

Her cheeks warmed under his gaze, and she busied herself with the linen napkin on her lap to hide her smile. Before she could respond, a server appeared with a bottle of chilled white wine. Logan exchanged a few quiet words with them before they poured a glass for each of them and discreetly left.

Bethany raised her glass, the golden liquid catching the candlelight. "To what?" she asked, her tone teasing.

Logan considered for a moment, then met her eyes. "To being exactly where we're supposed to be."

Her breath caught at the sincerity in his voice, and she clinked her glass against his. "I'll drink to that."

They sipped in companionable silence for a moment, the wine crisp and floral on her tongue. A breeze rustled through the vines, carrying with it the gentle murmur of the vineyard's nocturnal symphony.

"So," Bethany began, setting her glass down, "was this spot always this magical, or did you save it just for me?"

Logan chuckled, his grin lopsided and boyish. "Let's just say it didn't feel magical until tonight."

"Smooth," she teased, but the look in her eyes was warm.

The server returned with the first course, a delicate caprese salad with heirloom tomatoes, creamy mozzarella, and fragrant basil. They ate slowly, the conversation flowing as easily as the wine.

Bethany leaned her chin on her hand, watching Logan across the table. "You know, I've been wondering. You seem so confident all the time. Is there anything you're afraid of?"

Logan leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful as he considered her question. "Failure," he admitted after a moment. "Not just in business, but... failing the people I care about. My family, you..."

Her heart softened at his honesty. "Logan, you're one of the most determined people I've ever met. I don't think you could fail if you tried."

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You'd be surprised. I've made mistakes before. But being here with you? It feels different. Like maybe I can actually get it right this time."

Bethany reached across the table, her fingers brushing against his. "You don't have to be perfect with me, Logan. I like you for who you are—not who you think you have to be."

The vulnerability in her words made his chest tighten. He turned his hand to entwine his fingers with hers. "I've never met anyone like you, Bethany."

Her lips curved into a soft smile. "I could say the same about you."

The server returned to clear their plates and bring the main course—a tender filet mignon for Logan and pan-seared salmon for Bethany, accompanied by garlic mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus.

"Tell me something about you I don't know," Logan said as he cut into his steak.

Bethany laughed lightly. "You already know about my obsession with design, my stepfather, and my inability to stay away from you. What else is there?"

"There's always more," he said, his tone playful but his eyes earnest.

She thought for a moment, then leaned in conspiratorially. "Okay, here's one. I used to want to be a pastry chef."

Logan's brows shot up in surprise. "Really?"

"Really," she said with a grin. "I used to bake every weekend growing up. Cakes, cookies, pies—you name it. But once I discovered design, I knew that was where my heart was."

"I'm officially impressed," he said. "You're talented in more ways than I realized."

"Don't get too excited," she teased. "I haven't baked in years. I'd probably burn water at this point."

Logan laughed, the sound rich and warm. "We'll test that theory someday. I'd love to see you in action."

As they finished their meal, Bethany felt a sense of contentment settle over her. The vineyard, the food, Logan—it all felt like a dream she didn't want to wake up from.

After dessert—an indulgent crème brûlée—they lingered at the table, the conversation flowing easily between them. The stars above seemed to glow brighter, casting a soft, silvery light over the vineyard.

Logan reached across the table again, his fingers finding hers. "This might be one of the best nights of my life," he said softly.

Bethany's heart fluttered at his words. "Mine too," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

As the candles burned low and the vineyard hushed further into the night, they sat together, lost in each other, the rest of the world slipping away.