Chapter 06 Forbidden sickness

***Chandler's POV***

It was the third day since my return to New York, and a frustrating pattern had already begun to emerge.

I rarely saw her.

Olivia was a ghost in my own home, she stayed out until the early hours, returning just in time for bed, and we shared nothing but brief, quiet dinners.

But today, I had summoned her. I needed her across from me, where I could see exactly what I was dealing with.

We had prolonged this enough.

I sat at the corner table of a restaurant. I had chosen this place specifically. Quiet, high-ceilinged, and far too expensive for the likes of the boy she spent her days with.

When Olivia walked through the restaurant doors, the air in the room seemed to shift. My breath hitched in a way I hated.

She was wearing a fitted turtle neck cream sweater today, but the way the soft fabric clung to the heavy, rounded curve of her breasts made my palms itch. Her hair was down, neatly pushed back behind her ears.

As she sat down just in time I caught the purple on side of her neck.

My jaw tightened so hard it ached. There, just above the collar of her sweater, was a mottled purple mark. A hickey. A brand left by her boyfriend.

Third f*cking time.

But the look of the ugly, purple bruise looked ethereal on her ivory skin. I wanted to reach across the table, wrap my hand around her throat, and thumb the mark until it vanished.

The thought hit me like a physical blow, followed immediately by a wave of sickening guilt.

I felt a flash of genuine deep disgust for the way my body has been reacting to a girl I had promised to protect, the daughter of my deceased bestfriend, the girl I knew since she was ten.

I forced the heat down, burying it deep inside where I can't reach.

"You're on time," I said, my voice sounding breathless, I wished she didn't notice.

"Well, aren't you overjoyed?" she said sarcastically.

I ordered for both of us, I had asked her what she wanted through text.

"We need to talk about our setup," I began, leaning forward, trying to keep my eyes on her face and not the swell of her chest.

Disg*sting piece of sh*t.

"The trust is substantial, but it isn't a blank check. Your father wanted you to understand the weight of the Perez legacy. You took Business Administration, didn't you?"

She stiffened, picking at her food. "Dad wanted me to. He wanted me to take over eventually."

"And is that what you want? What do you want to do with your life, Olivia?" I asked, my eyes searching hers.

She paused, her fingers stilled on the tablecloth.

"I... I'm still figuring it out," she murmured, her voice losing its edge. "Everything happened so fast. I haven't really had time to think about life when my old one just ended."

The honesty hit me harder than her insults. I reached across the table, my hand hesitating before I briefly covered hers.

If she was gonna be under my care, I needed to build a relationship with her, I needed her trust. I wanted to do this the right way.

But her skin felt warm and the contact sent a jolt of electricity straight to my c*ck.

Stop it.

I pulled my hand back as if I’d been burned.

"You don't have to have the answers today," I said. "But you will find them. I won't let you waste your potential on a life that doesn't fit you."

She looked up at me, her brow furrowed. For the first time, she didn't look at me as the man she didn't trust.

"Do you mean it?" she whispered and sunk her teeth on her lower lip.

My gaze dropped to her lips before I snapped my eyes back to hers, mentally cursing myself.

Focus, you sick bastard.

"I only want what's best for you."

The rest of the lunch was spent in peace and silence. The wall between us hadn't crumbled, but I was hoping it had cracked a bit

But as we stood up to leave, my gaze fell once more on that mark on her neck. It was a taunt.

"Olivia," I said as we reached the door.

"Yeah?"

"Cover the mark," I said softly, my voice dropping into that low register as I stepped into her space, her sweet scent clouding around me.

I leaned in, my lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"The next time I see a mark on you... we’re going to have a very different conversation about your rules."

The moment the words left my mouth, I wanted to shove them back in. I was crossing lines I hadn't even drawn yet. I felt a surge of revulsion at my own behavior, yet I couldn't tear my eyes away from the way she flushed.

She flushed a deep red, her hand flying to her throat as she practically tripped while pushing the door open.