LOGIN***Olivia's POV*** I saw the way Seraphina’s gaze lingered on the Chandler’s neck. I saw the way her fingers toyed with the stem of her glass every time he spoke. "I have some documents for you to sign before we head out, sir," Marcus said, breaking the heavy silence as he tapped on his tablet. He stood up, looking between the two of us. "It will only take a moment." Chandler nodded, pushing his chair back. He stood up, towering over the table, and for a second, his eyes met mine. The intensity in them was enough to make my breath stop, a silent promise of the conversation we'll be having earlier. "I’ll be in the office," Chandler said, his voice returning to that professional tone. "Sera, wait for Marcus in the foyer. Olivia..." He walked around the table, meaning to leave the kitchen but he lingered to my side, his hand resting on the back of my chair. "Finish your breakfast. I’ll be back to say goodbye in a minute." I watched them leave. Marcus led the way, and Chandler
***Olivia’s POV*** The walk down the staircase felt like a march to my death sentence. Chandler’s hand was a warm weight on the small of my back, a silent reminder of the promise he’d just made me, but it didn't stop my heart from trying to leap out of my chest. As we entered the dining room, the clinking of silverware stopped. Marcus was seated to the left, already buried in his work tablet, while Seraphina sat across from him. "There you both are," Seraphina said, even her voice sounded elegant. She didn't look at me first, her eyes went straight to Chandler, tracking him with a familiarity that made my skin itch. "We were starting to think you two had gotten lost in your own home." "Something came up," Chandler said shortly. He pulled out the chair for me, and I sank into it. I caught Marcus’s curious gaze behind his glasses. "Good morning, Miss Perez," he said politely. "I hope you’re feeling better now." "I'm fine, thank you," I managed to say, my voice sounding thi
***Olivia’s POV*** They were going to be nearby.Every time I looked out the window or walked through this house, I’d be looking for her. I’d be looking for the little boy, I'd be watching all three of them together. The door opened again. This time, the footsteps were heavy and familiar. I didn't have to look up to know it was him. "Sera said she ran into you," Chandler said, his voice calm and smooth. "Breakfast is already prepared at the table. You need to eat." "Will she be there?" I asked, continuing my sketch even though it had already been ruined. "My assistant will also be there." "Then I'm not hungry," I snapped, my eyes fixed on the ruined sketch in front of me. I felt a surge of bitterness so strong I could taste it. "Why didn't you tell me she was coming here? Why did I have to find out from your assistant and then have her corner me in my personal space here?" "She was looking for a bathroom, Olivia. It wasn't intentional," he replied casually. "I didn't know s
***Olivia’s POV*** I didn't go back to my room. Instead, I practically stumbled into the art room, my breath coming in short gasps as I tried to hold the tears in. I grabbed my sketchbook and sat by the window, staring out at the garden where Chandler and I used to talk a lot about random things. My hands were trembling so hard I could barely hold the pencil. I started sketching, but it was just a mess of dark, chaotic lines. Ex-wife. That’s what he said. But she was in there. She was Mrs. Stirling. She was the woman who had a history with him that I could never touch. She shared a child with him. She shared a name. The door to the art room creaked open, and I didn't even look up. I just wiped a stray tear from my cheek with the back of my hand, my voice coming in shaky and defensive. "I don't want to talk right now, Chandler." "Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn't mean to intrude." The voice wasn't Chandler's deep and commanding tone. It was feminine, light, and had a soft Briti
***Olivia's POV*** I just stood there, my mouth hanging open, staring at him like he had just spoken a foreign language. Ex-wife. My brain was scrambling, trying to make sense of the photo I saw in his wallet and the man standing in front of me who looked more annoyed than anything else. "Ex-wife?" I finally managed to whisper, my voice barely audible. "What... since when?" "I’m only going to say this once, Olivia," he interrupted, his voice dropping into that cold, hard tone that usually made me want to submit and be a good girl for him. He didn't look annoyed anymore, he just looked exhausted, his jaw tight as he stared me down. "You are the only woman I’m touching. I don't have anyone else to think about, and neither do you." He didn't explain. He didn't tell me when it happened, why it happened, or who that woman was to him now. He just left the truth hanging there, raw and unfinished, and I was too stunned to push for more The fire that had been fueling my rage jus
***Olivia's POV*** The silence that followed was loud. Chandler didn't pull away, nor did he look surprised. He just stood there, his breathing gradually slowing down while mine became a series of painful hitches. He looked down at me, and there was no guilt in his eyes, only a terrifyingly calm confidence. It was as if he had already anticipated this exact breakdown to happen. "Whatever you're thinking, stop it," he said, his voice was so calm it was making me hate him even more. He reached up, his thumb catching a stray tear on my cheek and wiping it away with a gentleness that felt like a mockery. "It’s going to be over soon anyway. All of it." His casual tone made me snap. I pushed against his chest, my hands shaking so hard I could barely find my footing as I scrambled away from him. The warmth I had felt for him moments ago was instantly replaced by this hot, burning rage. "Over soon?" I echoed, a hysterical sound escaping my throat. "Is that what you tell yourself







