OBSESSION

TWELVE

The lazy morning melted into the promise of the day ahead as Bethany and Logan drove down the winding coastal road. The Porsche hummed smoothly, the salty tang of the ocean filling the air as sunlight gleamed off the water.

Bethany's nerves buzzed alongside her excitement. She couldn't help fidgeting with her dress, brushing invisible lint off the terracotta fabric that hugged her curves in all the right places. The flowing maxi dress, cinched at the waist with a slim belt, complemented her warm skin tone, while her twist-out framed her face in soft, bouncy curls that cascaded to her shoulders.

"Do I look okay?" she asked, her voice betraying her nerves.

Logan glanced at her briefly before returning his eyes to the winding road. His lips curled into a slow, reassuring smile.

"Bethany, you're stunning. You'll knock them all out—though I'm not planning to share you."

Bethany laughed softly, shaking her head. "This isn't a debutante ball, Logan. I'm meeting your family, not walking a runway."

"They'll love you," he said firmly, his confidence so effortless it almost made her believe him.

When the estate came into view, Bethany's breath hitched. The sprawling coastal home stood proudly on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The pale sandstone facade shimmered in the sunlight, its terracotta roof tiles lending it a Mediterranean elegance.

Floor-to-ceiling arched windows reflected the sparkling waves, and blooming bougainvillea cascaded down the walls, adding vibrant pops of fuchsia.

As Logan pulled into the long cobblestone driveway, Bethany noticed a young man in his early twenties lounging near the grand double doors. He wore a crisp linen shirt rolled up to his elbows and khaki shorts, his dark hair tousled and his stance casual. The sight of him instantly disarmed her—he didn't exude the intimidating air she'd expected from Logan's family.

"Ah, you've got one of the greeters today," Logan joked as he put the car in park and climbed out.

The young man's face lit up when he saw Logan, and he strode over.

"Finally! Took you long enough, cuz." His gaze flickered to Bethany as she stepped out of the car. "And who's this?"

Logan moved around to Bethany's side, placing a possessive hand on her lower back. "This is Bethany. Bethany, this is Ian—my cousin and unofficial keeper of family gossip."

Bethany smiled warmly, extending her hand. "Nice to meet you, Ian."

Ian ignored her hand, pulling her into an unexpected hug instead. "Oh, we don't do handshakes here. Welcome to the chaos, Bethany."

She laughed, her nerves easing slightly. "Thanks, I think."

Ian gestured toward the house. "Come on, I'll show you inside. Everyone else is still getting settled."

Bethany followed Logan and Ian to the grand double doors, which opened into a soaring entryway. The space was breathtaking, with high, vaulted ceilings and exposed wooden beams. A massive wrought iron chandelier hung above, its crystal accents casting intricate patterns on the travertine floor. The air smelled faintly of salt and fresh flowers, and sunlight streamed through the large windows, bathing everything in a golden glow.

"Impressive, huh?" Ian asked, grinning as he caught Bethany's wide-eyed gaze. "Don't let it fool you. This house might look fancy, but it's mostly a trap for endless family drama."

Bethany laughed, grateful for his easygoing demeanor. "It's beautiful, though."

Logan smirked, leaning down to murmur in her ear, "Don't let him scare you. He's harmless."

Ian rolled his eyes dramatically. "I heard that, and it's true. But wait until you meet the others. They're the real circus."

As Ian walked ahead to lead them through the house, Bethany took in the understated elegance around her. The living room opened onto a sprawling terrace that offered a panoramic view of the ocean.

Plush sofas in muted tones of gray and cream surrounded a sleek stone fireplace, and abstract paintings in bold, vibrant colors adorned the walls. Everything felt effortlessly luxurious, yet surprisingly welcoming.

Bethany leaned closer to Logan as they walked. "Is this house always this pristine? Do they hire a small army to maintain it?"

Logan chuckled. "Pretty much. My parents keep staff here year-round, even when no one's visiting. They like knowing it's always ready."

"Of course they do," Bethany muttered, amused.

As they reached the terrace, Ian turned to them with a mischievous grin. "Alright, I've done my duty as the welcoming committee. You two are free to roam—or hide until the others show up. Your call."

Logan clapped him on the shoulder. "Thanks, Ian. We'll find our way."

Ian gave a mock salute before wandering off toward the pool, leaving Logan and Bethany alone on the terrace. Bethany took a deep breath, letting the salty breeze fill her lungs as she gazed out at the endless expanse of ocean. The waves crashed rhythmically against the cliffside, and for a moment, the world felt blissfully still.

"This is incredible," she said softly.

Logan slid his arm around her waist, pulling her close. "Glad you think so. Now let's hope the rest of the weekend goes just as smoothly."

Bethany turned to him with a small smile, her nerves momentarily forgotten. "With you here, I think I'll manage."

Logan's lips twitched into a grin, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his gaze—something that made her heart skip a beat.

"You'll do more than manage," he said, his voice low and sure. "You'll be perfect."

Bethany stood with Logan on the terrace, soaking in the serene view of the ocean. She'd just started to relax when a deep voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Bethany, isn't it?"

She turned to see Liam approaching. He was dressed casually in a fitted navy polo and khaki pants, his stride confident and his expression somewhere between apologetic and smug.

The resemblance between him and Logan was striking—the same chiseled jawline, the same dark, wavy hair—but where Logan's green eyes burned with intensity, Liam's brown eyes held a sharper, calculating gleam.

"Yes, that's me," Bethany replied, offering a polite smile. She could feel Logan tense slightly beside her.

Liam stopped a few feet away, his hands tucked casually in his pockets. "I just wanted to apologize for my... abrupt behavior at Farm to Table. I wasn't exactly the epitome of charm."

Bethany waved it off, her smile softening. "Apology accepted. You'll have plenty of time to prove yourself when you meet with R&M on Monday. First impressions are only the beginning, right?"

Liam chuckled, his gaze flicking briefly to Logan before settling back on Bethany. "You're very forgiving. I hope I don't disappoint."

As he spoke, Bethany couldn't help but take in the subtle differences between the brothers.

While Logan had an easy, commanding presence, Liam's charm felt more calculated, like he always had an angle. The resemblance was undeniable, but the energy they exuded couldn't have been more different.

Liam's expression shifted slightly, his lips curving into something between a smirk and a warning.

"You know," he began, his tone conversational but pointed, "Logan has a bit of a history with designers. You might want to keep that in mind while working with him."

Bethany's polite smile faltered for a split second. "History?" she asked, glancing at Logan, who was now glaring at his brother.

"Liam," Logan warned, his voice low and sharp.

Liam ignored him, his attention still on Bethany. "It's nothing scandalous, of course. But let's just say my brother has a knack for mixing business with... pleasure."

"Liam, enough," Logan snapped, his hand tightening protectively on Bethany's waist. "This isn't the time or place for your petty games."

Bethany felt a wave of unease settle over her as the tension between the brothers crackled in the air.

"Logan, it's fine," she started, trying to defuse the situation.

But Logan and Liam were locked in a silent battle, their mutual animosity simmering just below the surface.

"You're always so quick to get defensive," Liam said, his voice dripping with mockery. "I'm just trying to give her a friendly warning. I'd hate to see another—"

"Liam!" Logan's voice was sharp enough to cut through steel.

Bethany stepped between them, holding up her hands. "Okay, that's enough. Both of you. This isn't helping anyone."

Before either of them could respond, a woman's voice rang out from behind them.

"Logan Alexander Chase! Liam Benjamin Chase!"

Bethany turned to see their mother standing in the doorway, her expression a mixture of exasperation and disappointment. Dressed in a simple yet elegant beige blouse and tailored pants, her dark hair swept back into a low bun, she exuded an air of effortless grace and authority.

"What is the matter with you two?" she demanded, walking briskly onto the terrace. "Behaving like children in front of our guest?"

"Mom, it's not—" Logan began, but she silenced him with a single raised hand.

"I don't want to hear it," she said firmly. Her gaze softened as it shifted to Bethany. "Bethany, dear, why don't you come with me? We could use some help in the kitchen."

Bethany nodded, grateful for the reprieve. "Of course."

Logan looked like he wanted to protest, but his mother cut him off again. "And you two," she said, pointing to her sons, "go find your father in the billiards room. He's been waiting to speak with you."

Liam gave a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am," he said, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Logan shot Bethany an apologetic look as their mother ushered her inside. "I'll see you soon," he murmured, his hand brushing briefly against hers.

Bethany gave him a reassuring smile before following his mother into the house, leaving the brothers to deal with their father. As they walked through the grand hallway, she couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief and curiosity. The tension between Logan and Liam was palpable, and Liam's pointed comments had left her unsettled.

"Don't let them get to you," Logan's mother said gently, as if reading Bethany's thoughts. "They've been at each other's throats since they were boys. But they mean well... most of the time."

As Bethany followed Vivienne into the expansive, sunlit kitchen, she couldn't help but admire the warmth of the space. The marble countertops gleamed under the light streaming in from the large windows overlooking the cliffside. The faint sound of waves crashing against the rocks below added to the serene ambiance, despite the tension she'd just witnessed in the living room.

Vivienne rolled up her sleeves with practiced ease, pulling out fresh herbs and vegetables from the refrigerator. She gestured for Bethany to sit at the island.

"Make yourself comfortable, Bethany. I could use the company while I work on the finishing touches for lunch."

Bethany nodded and perched on one of the stools, smoothing out her flowy, linen dress. "It smells incredible already, Mrs.—I mean, Vivienne."

Vivienne chuckled, a sound that immediately put Bethany at ease.

"Vivienne is just fine, dear. Mrs. Chase makes me feel ancient."

"It's been a haven for us for years, though it's not always so peaceful when the boys are around. You saw a glimpse of that earlier."

Bethany hesitated, unsure if it was her place to bring up the argument she'd walked into. Vivienne seemed to sense her discomfort.

"They've always been like that—Logan and Liam," Vivienne said, her tone tinged with both fondness and exasperation. "They were inseparable as children, thick as thieves, but when they became teenagers..." She sighed. "Things changed."

"What happened?" Bethany asked softly, genuinely curious.

Vivienne paused, wiping her hands on a towel. Her gaze lingered on the rolling waves outside the window as though searching for the right words.

"Their father has... a way of fostering competition. It's how he's always managed his business, pitting people against one another to drive results. Unfortunately, he carried that mindset into our family."

Bethany frowned. "So he made them compete with each other?"

Vivienne nodded, turning back to her task. "In everything. School, sports, who could impress him more. At first, it was innocent—little rivalries over grades or who could throw a ball the farthest. But as they grew older, it became more serious, more personal.

Logan wanted independence, and Liam thrived on staying close to his father. Their paths diverged, and with that came resentment."

Bethany's chest tightened at the thought. "That's so sad. Do you think they'll ever be able to fix things?"

Vivienne gave her a small smile, though her eyes reflected years of worry.

"I hope so, dear. Life has a way of humbling even the most stubborn men. And those two, for all their faults, have good hearts. They just need to remember that they're stronger together than apart."

Bethany nodded, touched by Vivienne's hope. "It must be hard for you, being in the middle of it all."

"It is," Vivienne admitted, her voice softening. "But I've learned to keep my head above the fray. It helps that I've always been closer to Logan. He's... different from Liam. He has his father's ambition but not his coldness."

Bethany tilted her head. "Liam doesn't seem cold to me. A little competitive, maybe, but..."

Vivienne let out a light laugh. "Oh, Liam has his moments. He's charming when he wants to be, but he's also deeply entrenched in his father's world. He craves approval, and sometimes that makes him... calculating." She glanced at Bethany, her expression softening.

"You have nothing to worry about, though. Logan's focus has always been on doing things his way. That's what sets him apart."

Bethany hesitated before speaking, her voice quieter.

"Do you think his father will accept me? I mean, I know it's early, but... I really like Logan, and he seems serious about me. I just want to show him the same."

Vivienne stopped chopping, her eyes meeting Beth

Bethany's brows lifted. "Others?"

Vivienne waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, don't read too much into that. Logan's had his share of companions, but none of them ever cared about what his family thought. They were more interested in his last name than the man himself. You, Bethany... you're refreshing."

Bethany's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Vivienne. That means a lot. Do you have any advice for dealing with Mr. Chase?"

Vivienne's lips twitched with amusement. "Call him Benjamin. He'll bristle if you're too formal. And don't be afraid to speak your mind. He respects strength and intelligence, though he might not show it outwardly. Most importantly, be yourself. Logan clearly sees something special in you, and I trust his judgment."

Bethany smiled, feeling a swell of confidence. "I'll do my best."

Vivienne set down the knife and walked over to Bethany, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You'll do more than that. I can already tell you're going to leave quite an impression on this family."

Bethany covered Vivienne's hand with her own. "I think Logan already has on me."

Vivienne gave her a knowing look before stepping back. "Now, let's go round up the boys before they get into any more trouble. Lunch is ready."

Bethany followed her out of the kitchen, her nerves settling slightly. As they approached the dining room, the aroma of the food mingled with the low hum of conversation.

The dining room was a study in timeless elegance, its walls painted a deep navy with wainscoting painted a crisp white. A long, polished mahogany table stretched nearly the entire length of the room, illuminated by a chandelier dripping with crystal.

The table was set with gleaming silverware and fine china, each place marked by handwritten name cards. The scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meats wafted through the air, making Bethany's stomach rumble despite her nerves.

Plates of roasted chicken, glazed salmon, herb-crusted lamb, and sides of roasted vegetables, buttery mashed potatoes, and crisp green beans adorned the table. A basket of warm, crusty rolls sat at each end, their golden tops inviting. Crystal decanters filled with red and white wine caught the soft light, adding an additional layer of refinement.

Bethany smoothed the skirt of her emerald-green dress, which contrasted beautifully with her dark skin. Her natural curls were pinned into an elegant twist at the nape of her neck, and she'd chosen simple gold hoops to complete the look. Logan stood beside her, looking effortlessly dashing in a tailored charcoal suit, his tie loosened just enough to add a touch of casual charm.

As the guests settled into their seats, Logan placed a steadying hand on Bethany's back.

"Everyone," he began, his voice commanding the attention of the table, "this is Bethany Scott."

All eyes turned to her, some curious, others politely indifferent. Logan gestured to each guest in turn.

"You've already met Liam. This is our Uncle Robert and Aunt Margaret, my father's brother and his wife. Next to them are Uncle Richard and his partner, Daniel. Across from them, we have Jonathan, my father's cousin, and his wife, Eloise. And finally, my parents, Benjamin and Vivienne."

Bethany nodded politely at each introduction, offering a warm smile. When her eyes met Benjamin's, however, his gaze was cool and appraising, a man used to sizing people up in an instant.

"Welcome, Miss Scott," Benjamin said curtly, his tone devoid of warmth but not overtly hostile. "I trust Logan has explained the importance of family gatherings in our household."

Bethany straightened her spine. "He has, Benjamin. Thank you for having me."

The dining room buzzed with muted conversation and the soft clink of silverware against fine china as Bethany sat, feeling a mix of curiosity and mild apprehension. She glanced around the table, silently noting the names and personalities Logan had briefly mentioned on the drive over.

To her left sat Uncle Robert, a silver-haired man with sharp features and an easy smile. He was accompanied by his wife, Aunt Margaret, whose understated jewelry and tailored blouse radiated old-money sophistication. Across the table was Uncle Richard, a slightly younger man with a salt-and-pepper beard and a wry sense of humor that softened his otherwise intimidating demeanor.

Beside him sat Daniel, his partner, who seemed more reserved but observant, his eyes scanning the table as if cataloging every detail.

Further down was Jonathan, a cousin of Benjamin, with piercing blue eyes and a booming laugh that had already filled the room twice since dinner began. Beside him was Eloise, his wife, a petite woman with a lilting voice who seemed to take great pleasure in organizing every part of her husband's life.

The air was heavy with the scent of roasted meats, buttery mashed potatoes, and fragrant herbs from the dishes spread across the table, but the conversation quickly turned to something far less savory—business.

Uncle Robert was the first to bring it up, leaning back in his chair as he spoke.

"With the market as volatile as it is, I've started consolidating my investments into larger properties. Multifamily housing in Chicago is where I'm putting most of my chips now."

Jonathan nodded in agreement, his deep voice carrying easily over the table. "Makes sense, Robert. But the big money's still in international portfolios. We just closed a deal for luxury condos in Dubai. Cash flow there is unreal."

Bethany sipped her wine quietly, watching as Liam chimed in.

"Dubai's oversaturated," he said, his tone clipped. "The margins might look good now, but the bubble's bound to burst. I'm keeping my eye on mixed-use properties stateside. Seattle's tech boom is still feeding plenty of opportunities."

Richard leaned forward, his brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Mixed-use is lucrative, but it's high risk if you don't have stable tenants lined up. What's your angle, Liam?"

Liam smirked, casting a quick glance at Logan.

"Long-term leases with major corporations. sss's been sniffing around one of our developments downtown. That's the kind of anchor tenant you want."

Logan finally spoke up, his tone calm but firm.

"sss's reliable, but they also come with strings. They'll want concessions that'll eat into your profit margins. Better to find mid-sized companies willing to pay a premium for the same space."

Bethany couldn't help but notice the tension that flickered between Logan and Liam. She was beginning to understand the unspoken rivalry Vivienne had hinted at. Liam leaned back, his smile more a challenge than an agreement.

"Is that why you're sticking with boutique developments and huts, Logan? Avoiding the big players?" Liam asked, his tone light but pointed.

Logan didn't rise to the bait. "I'd rather focus on creating something sustainable. Boutique developments have more room for innovation, and they serve the communities they're built in, not just investors."

"Interesting," Robert interjected, stroking his chin. "And what about you, Bethany? I'm curious—how does a designer fit into all this? Surely, you've got a take on the market trends."

Bethany felt all eyes turn to her, and though her pulse quickened, she kept her voice steady.

"Design and business aren't as separate as they seem," she began, setting down her fork. "The best developments balance aesthetics with functionality, and that comes from understanding the community you're serving. In a market like Seattle, that means incorporating elements that resonate with tech professionals while preserving the city's character."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "That's a sharp perspective. Where'd you pick that up?"

Bethany hesitated briefly before replying, "My stepfather is Charles Aldridge. I grew up watching how he approached every investment—balancing risk and reward, but always prioritizing long-term growth over short-term gains."

A ripple of recognition swept through the table. Robert leaned forward, intrigued. "Charles Aldridge? The Charles Aldridge?"

"The international financier?" Jonathan added, his tone tinged with awe.

"That's the one," Bethany confirmed with a small nod. "But my goal has always been to stand on my own two feet, not in his shadow."

Liam chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I have to say, I didn't expect that. Logan, you've been holding out on us."

Bethany cast a glance at Logan, who gave her a reassuring smile before Benjamin's cool voice cut through the murmur of conversation.

"Tell me, Miss Scott," Benjamin began, his expression as unreadable as ever, "what do you think is the most critical factor in ensuring the success of a mixed-use development?"

Bethany straightened in her seat, aware of the weight of his question.

"A clear understanding of the target demographic, Mr. Chase. Mixed-use developments thrive when every component—from residential to retail—is tailored to the needs of the community. It's about creating a cohesive experience, not just filling square footage."

Benjamin studied her for a moment before nodding slightly. "And how would you balance the demands of investors with those of the tenants?"

Bethany didn't falter. "By being transparent with both. Investors want returns, but they also want stability. Tenants provide that stability when they feel valued and heard. It's not an either-or situation—it's about aligning the goals of all stakeholders."

Logan bristled slightly at the line of questioning, ready to interject, but Bethany placed a hand on his arm, silencing him with a subtle touch.

"I'm happy to answer any questions, Mr. Chase," she said confidently.

Benjamin held her gaze for a long moment before leaning back in his chair, his expression giving nothing away.

"No further questions," he said, lifting his glass of wine as a butler approached to refill it. With a gesture, he signaled for the butler to pour a glass for Bethany as well.

Bethany lifted her glass in return, her heart pounding as she took a small sip. Whether or not she had truly passed his test, she couldn't be sure—but for now, she had held her own.

~*~

Bethany stepped into Logan's childhood bedroom, the door creaking softly as she closed it behind her. The room was frozen in time, untouched since the last time Logan had visited at the age of seventeen.

The walls were painted a muted navy blue, slightly faded, with shelves lined with trophies, books, and a few dusty action figures. A vintage poster of a Formula 1 car hung above the bed, its edges curling from years of exposure.

The bed itself, a twin with an old but neatly made plaid comforter, sat against the far wall beneath a window that looked out onto the moonlit garden. A desk piled with school books and a tarnished lamp sat in one corner, and a corkboard filled with pinned photos and ticket stubs hung nearby.

"It's like walking into a time capsule," Bethany mused as she set her overnight bag on the floor. "You were really into cars, huh?"

Logan chuckled as he straightened the bedding, pulling off the plaid comforter and replacing it with the fresh linens his mother had left.

"Obsessed, actually. I used to dream about racing professionally. Then reality—and my father—convinced me to focus on the family business."

Bethany smiled softly, picking up a small, dust-covered model car from the shelf.

"It's sweet. Like a window into who you were before life got complicated."

As Logan finished with the bed, he turned to see Bethany sitting on the edge of the desk chair, rubbing lotion into her skin. The warm glow of the bedside lamp illuminated her smooth, dark skin, and her loose curls framed her face like a halo. He couldn't help but stare, captivated by how effortlessly stunning she looked.

"You're really going to sit there and act like dropping Charles Aldridge's name wasn't a bombshell?" Logan asked, leaning against the bedframe, his arms crossed.

Bethany sighed, putting the lotion bottle back in her bag.

"It's not something I like to use. Growing up, everyone assumed I had it easy because of him. And I did, in some ways. But the truth is, I want people to see me for my own work, not for who my stepfather is."

Logan raised an eyebrow, his tone softening. "Then why mention it tonight?"

She hesitated before answering, her eyes meeting his. "I knew your father wasn't impressed with me. Not until I said that name. I hate playing that card, but I thought... maybe it would help. But honestly, I don't think it worked. He barely looked at me the rest of the evening."

Logan walked over and crouched down in front of her, his hands resting on her knees. "Bethany, my father is... complicated. He's not one to shower people with compliments, even when he's impressed. But the wine? That was huge."

She frowned, confused. "Wine?"

"That Bordeaux he poured for you?" Logan explained. "He doesn't share that wine with anyone—not me, not Liam. That was his way of saying you passed whatever test he was throwing at you tonight."

Bethany's eyes widened. "Seriously? I thought it was just... wine."

Logan smiled, shaking his head. "It's never just wine with him. You did amazing, Bethany. Better than I've ever seen anyone handle him."

Bethany let out a soft laugh, relief washing over her. "You're just saying that because you're biased."

Logan leaned in, brushing a kiss against her forehead. "I'm saying it because it's true."

She looked into his green eyes, her anxiety from the evening fading. "Tomorrow's boat day, huh? Another test?"

"Maybe," Logan teased, standing up and pulling her to her feet. "But if tonight is any indication, you've got nothing to worry about."

Bethany wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a deep, lingering kiss. His hands found her waist, holding her close as the warmth between them grew. When they pulled apart, her smile was softer, more at ease.

"Alright," she said, her voice low, "I'll try not to overthink it."

"Good," Logan murmured, kissing her once more before leading her to the freshly made bed. "Because you've already won."

They climbed into bed, Logan pulling her close as the soft glow of the lamp bathed the room in warmth. The steady sound of rain pattering against the window lulled them into a quiet calm. Wrapped in Logan's arms, Bethany felt the tension of the week and the evening melt away, replaced by a sense of peace she hadn't felt in a long time.