As Olivia stepped out of a loan organization she visited, exhaustion washed over her like a wave. The weight of her brother's troubles threatened to crush her, and the daunting task of finding a way to save him seemed insurmountable. The kind of trouble he was in required a skilled lawyer, someone who could defend him and secure his freedom. And the only person she knew who possessed the expertise and tenacity to take on the case and win was Christopher Brooks.
But he had turned her down, leaving her feeling defeated and lost. Olivia wondered if she should try meeting him again, but the prospect of securing another meeting seemed daunting. It might take time, and time was a luxury she couldn't afford. Maybe, just maybe, she could go through his friend who had been present during their meeting. He had seemed kind and genuinely interested in helping. Just as Olivia's thoughts were spiraling into despair, the heavy sound of thunderstorm disrupted her reverie. The sky grew dark, and the air was electric with anticipation. And then, almost immediately, the rain started dropping, drumming a soothing melody on the pavement. Olivia felt a pang of gratitude for having carried her umbrella that morning. She opened it, and the soft whoosh of the fabric provided a comforting canopy against the rain. As she walked, Olivia's mind began to wander, searching for a solution to her brother's predicament. She didn't have a specific destination in mind; she just kept moving, her legs carrying her forward on autopilot. The rain-soaked streets were emptying, and the few people she encountered scurried past her, seeking shelter from the storm. But Olivia didn't care. She was too tired, too frustrated, and too desperate to care. She just kept walking, her eyes fixed on some point in the distance, her heart heavy with worry. Just as Olivia was starting to calm her heavy heart, a car sped past her, sending a wave of water crashing against her body. Her brows furrowed in annoyance as she wondered what kind of reckless driver would speed through puddles on a rainy day. But to her surprise, the car screeched to a halt a short distance away and began to creep back towards her. Olivia's indignation turned to curiosity as the car pulled up alongside her. The window whirred down, and she was about to give the driver a piece of her mind when she saw Nathan's charming smile staring back at her. "Miss Olivia, did I get the name right?" he asked, his tone disarmingly apologetic. "I think I splashed water on you by mistake." Olivia's retort died on her lips as she stared at Nathan, taken aback by his unexpected politeness. The rain continued to fall heavily around them, drumming against the car's roof. "I-It's fine," she stuttered. "Just be careful next time. I'll be on my way." But Nathan wasn't having it. "Miss Olivia, if you don't mind, could you come in and I'll drop you off?" he asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "At least to say sorry for staining your clothes." Olivia's resolve weakened at Nathan's persistence. She hesitated for a moment before responding, "I'm fine, really. We might not be going in the same direction. I'll sort myself out." But Nathan was insistent. "I insist, Miss," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. "I don't care where you're going. I'll drop you off first. It's my little way of saying sorry. Please don't refuse. And I don't think my boss will have an issue with it." Olivia's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Nathan's boss. Could it be Christopher Brooks? The same lawyer she was trying to convince to take her brother's case? The door slid open with a soft click, and Nathan gestured for her to enter. Olivia closed her umbrella, shaking off the excess water before stepping into the car. "Um, it's wet," she said, feeling a little silly. "It's fine, come in," Nathan replied, his smile encouraging. Olivia took a deep breath and settled into the seat, trying not to look at the occupant on her left. Her heart racing with anticipation. Was this fate, bringing them together again? Maybe, just maybe, she could convince Christopher to help her this time. She wasn't going to let this opportunity slip away. The car started, and Nathan drove off into the rainy evening. "So, where am I dropping you, Miss?" he asked, his eyes peeking at Olivia through the rearview mirror. Olivia hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should give out her address to strangers. But something about Nathan's warm smile put her at ease. "Oakwood Drive," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Nathan nodded and continued driving, the sound of raindrops pattering against the car's roof filling the silence. Olivia took a quick glance to her side, her eyes locking onto Christopher's chiseled features. He had his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath. She had heard rumors about Christopher's striking good looks, but nothing could have prepared her for the real thing. His sharp jawline, piercing blue eyes, and chiseled lips made him breathtakingly gorgeous. Olivia's heart skipped a beat as she quickly looked away, trying to compose herself. But her gaze betrayed her, drifting back to Christopher's face. Just then, he opened his eyes sharply, catching her staring at him. Olivia's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she tore her eyes away, her heart racing like a jackrabbit. The silence in the car grew thicker, heavy with unspoken words. Olivia took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. This was her brother's life on the line, and she couldn't afford to back down. "Mr. Christopher," she called out, her voice firm but respectful. Christopher opened his eyes, his gaze piercing as he turned to face her. "About today," Olivia continued, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Have you given it any more thought?" Christopher's expression changed, his eyes narrowing into slits. "I've given my answer," he replied curtly, his voice dripping with disdain. Olivia's heart sank, but she refused to give up. "Mr. Christopher Brooks, please," she begged, her voice cracking with emotion. "I'm not asking for charity. I just need someone to fight for the truth." Christopher sighed, his eyes flicking towards her before looking away. "We've been through this, Miss Olivia," he said, his tone cold and detached. "You don't have the finances to hire me. Why should I work for free?" Olivia's hands trembled with anger, but she kept her voice steady. "I promise I'll pay whatever it takes," she said, her eyes locked onto Christopher's. "Just agree to take the case. Please, Mr. Christopher." The car fell silent once more, the only sound the steady beat of the rain. Then, Christopher spoke up, his voice low and gravelly. "Murder," he muttered. "What's the guarantee your brother didn't do it? People do crazy things for money these days. Especially people like you." Olivia's eyes narrowed, her anger simmering just below the surface. "You think he did it?" she asked, her voice icy. "My brother would never hurt anyone." Christopher chuckled, a low, menacing sound. "I know how these things go," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. "He must have been paid to carry out the murder. People like you don't turn down easy money." Olivia's face burned with anger, her nails digging deep into her palm. "So that's what you think?" she spat, her voice venomous. "Because we're not rich, my brother must have done it?" Christopher shrugged, his expression unreadable. "It's very possible," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "The evidence points to him." Olivia's eyes flashed with anger, her heart pounding in her chest. The silence that followed was oppressive, heavy with unspoken words. Then, with a sharp breath, Olivia reached for the door handle. "You're a terrible person, Mr. Christopher Brooks," she hissed, pushing the door open. Nathan noticing this quickly stopped the car. She stepped out into the storm, the cold rain drenching her instantly. But she didn't stop, refusing to let Christopher see her break. Behind her, Nathan muttered something to Christopher, maybe a reprimand or a reminder of basic human decency. But Christopher didn't call her back. He just watched as she disappeared into the downpour, his expression unreadable.Lost in thought, Olivia forgot she had left her umbrella in the car. Undeterred by the rain, she continued walking, her feet carrying her home. The car ride had significantly shortened her journey, and after a thirty-minute walk, she finally reached her house.As she rummaged through her bag, she noticed it was damp, but thankfully, the waterproof lining had protected the contents. She fished out her keys, selected the right one, and unlocked the door to her cozy little home.A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she stepped inside. The house held a treasure trove of memories, and every time she entered, it felt like a warm hug. The thought of selling it to hire a top-notch lawyer had crossed her mind, but she was hesitant. This was her childhood home, after all. If all else failed, she would have to consider selling it to secure her brother's freedom.For now, she pushed those thoughts aside and headed straight to the bathroom. She peeled off her damp clothes and soaked herself in t
An uncomfortable silence filled the room, with Nathan sporting a wide smile and Olivia looking utterly shocked."He asked me to find a bride for him," Nathan said, his smile unwavering. "No better option than you, Miss Olivia." He paused, awaiting her response. "What's your answer?"Olivia's confusion got the better of her. "Why me?" she asked, her voice laced with skepticism. She wasn't from a wealthy family, nor was she the most beautiful woman in the country. What made her the best choice for Christopher?Nathan leaned forward, his expression serious. "It's a contract marriage, Miss Olivia. He needs a woman to claim his inheritance. You can help him secure it, and in return, he'll help fight your brother's case. It's a win-win situation." He gave her a moment to process the information before continuing. "As it's a contract marriage, you both have the right to set your own conditions. Anything you'd want in the marriage or even when you'd want to separate."Olivia's mind reeled as
Olivia lay in bed, her mind consumed by thoughts of the next day. She would be meeting Christopher again, but this time, she felt very determined. She was ready to be bolder, more assertive, and prove that she was the only one who could help him. Still, a sliver of doubt crept into her mind, threatening to undermine her confidence. What if Christopher rejected her? What if he deemed her unnecessary and asked Nathan to find someone else? She pushed the unsettling thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. After being denied an advance at her workplace, where she worked as a waitress, Olivia had made the difficult decision to take a leave of absence. She was determined to secure Raymond's release from jail, no matter what it took. Her little boy was suffering for something he didn't do, and she was his only hope. As she retired for the day, her mind was still racing with thoughts of the upcoming meeting. She tried to calm her nerves, but her mind refused to quiet. The darkness ou
Christopher's eyes narrowed into slits as he gazed at Olivia, Nathan's handpicked choice for him. He often wondered about the inner workings of his friend's mind, but this latest move left him baffled. What possessed Nathan to think pairing him with Olivia was a good idea? "Can I sit?" she asked, her voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. Olivia's small, charming smile faltered for a moment as she awaited Christopher's response to her question, but Christopher's silence was deafening. He didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge her presence. Undeterred, Olivia took a seat across from him, her gaze wandering around the vast, empty space. The restaurant was enormous, with high ceilings and large windows that let in a flood of natural light. But despite its size, the room was eerily quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioning. Olivia's brow furrowed in confusion. Where were the other patrons? The bustling atmosphere? The clinking of dishes? Instead, there was only sil
A loud, mocking laugh escaped Christopher's lips, and Olivia couldn't help but wonder why he found this moment so amusing. His laughter abruptly stopped, and he raised an eyebrow. "Is it that easy to get you ruffled?" he questioned, a hint of surprise dancing on his face. "I'm Christopher Brooks, and it would be a shame to have you bear my child," he continued, his tone dripping with condescension. "So, don't worry, nothing like that will happen between us." Olivia's eyes flashed with resentment, sensing he was looking down on her again because of her status. "I also don't want to bear your child, Mr. Christopher," she retorted, her voice firm. "I want to have a child with someone I love." Christopher's chuckle returned, and Olivia wondered what he found so amusing. "Love? What a joke," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "There will be nothing like that in this marriage." Olivia pressed her lips together, nodding slightly. "Good," Christopher responded, and an uncomf
Olivia stepped out of the car, her heels clicking against the ground as she headed inside. The driver gave her a polite nod before pulling away, leaving a trail of silence in his wake. She stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind her, sealing her in silence. The contrast to the tension-filled meeting with Christopher was jarring. No biting words. No cold eyes. Just stillness. She closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, and let the calmness wrap around her like a blanket. It was the only comfort she had. Eventually, fatigue overtook her thoughts, and she made her way to bed. Her body sank into the mattress, and before she could make sense of anything, sleep claimed her. Morning sunlight streamed through the thin curtains, warming her face and pulling her from a dreamless slumber. For a few seconds, she forgot. Forgot the deal. Forgot the signature waiting on a page. Forgot the name she’d soon carry that didn’t belong to her. Then it all came rushing back. Christopher had agreed,
Olivia's throat constricted at Christopher's question. She knew she'd have to move into his house eventually, now that they were married. Christopher's eyes narrowed, his gaze intensifying as he awaited her response. But the longer he waited, the more it seemed like she was hesitant to answer. "I asked a question, Olivia," he said, his voice low and even, but with a hint of impatience. The way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine. "Can I...have until the weekend?" Olivia stammered, her heart racing. "I'll move in then." Christopher sighed, ruffling his hair. "Weekend it is then," he said, his voice filled with resignation. He turned and walked out of the room, the other person following closely behind. Olivia watched him leave, relief settling over her. His presence always made her tense, and now, with him gone, she could finally breathe. She couldn't understand why she always felt that way around him. Pushing the thought aside, she decided to focus on the task at hand
Olivia's lips parted, but no words came out. She was taken aback by Christopher's question, unsure of how to respond. Had he been expecting her? Before she could gather her thoughts, the door swung open, and three men, whom she assumed were servants, entered with her luggage. They efficiently whisked her belongings away, disappearing into the depths of the house. "Olivia," Christopher's voice drew her attention back to him. His eyes locked onto hers. "Come with me." She followed him down the hallways. The house was massive, and the elegant décor and tall ceilings left her in awe. She wondered if Christopher lived there alone, and what about Nathan? As they walked, Christopher began to speak, his voice low and smooth. "This is my house, my only one. My room is on the third floor. The entire floor is reserved for me. I'm taking you to yours now." On the second floor, Christopher halted in front of a door and pushed it open. "Nathan informed me about your call," his voice was
As usual, Olivia freshened up, taking extra time to gather her thoughts before heading to the dining room. She wasn’t sure why she felt uneasy this morning. Maybe it was the lingering feeling from last night—being carried into her room by Christopher. The thought of it had haunted her since she woke up, and now, it was hard to shake off. Why did it bother her so much? He was just a cold, distant man, right? Still, the thought of his hands on her was enough to stir a mix of emotions, something she couldn’t quite place. When she entered the dining room, Christopher and Sophia were already sitting at the table. Racheal, however, was nowhere to be seen, which was odd. Olivia glanced around briefly, but the absence didn’t linger in her mind for long. She took her seat, offering Christopher a neutral smile. "Good morning, Mr. Christopher." Her voice sounded steady, but there was a nervous flutter in her chest. She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes flickered toward her as she s
The study was suddenly swallowed in darkness, the only light now coming from the faint glow of the fireplace. The storm outside howled louder, and the room seemed to shrink with the shadows. “Stay calm,” Christopher said evenly. “It’ll be fixed soon.” Olivia nodded, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “Mr. Christopher,” she called, her voice barely above a whisper, as she nervously bit her lip. “Hm?” he responded, curious. “I have a small request,” she began, then quickly added, “It’s about my brother’s case.” “I’m listening." “If there’s anything I can do to help, even something small, please let me know. I know you’re handling the case, but I want to be useful. I want to do something... anything.” For a long moment, Christopher didn’t reply. Olivia could feel the weight of his gaze, even in the dark, as though he was thinking, processing her words. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than before, though still as controlled as ever. “Okay.” The silen
Christopher led the way out of the dining room, his footsteps confident and unhurried. Olivia followed a few steps behind, her own pace slower. They ascended the grand staircase to the top floor, Christopher’s private floor, where silence seemed to hang heavier and the air felt colder, more serious. He stopped in front of a wide double door and pushed it open, revealing his study. The study had two entrances along the same corridor, each with its own door. The last time Christopher had called Olivia in, she had entered through the front door, which led to the section where he usually worked. But the door they were now approaching was the main entrance to the study, the heart of the room. The room was nothing short of breathtaking. Tall shelves lined the walls, filled with thick leather-bound books, some old, others pristine. One corner housed a large, gleaming oak desk, clutter-free save for a sleek laptop and a silver penholder. A painting of a stormy ocean hung above it—wild, u
Olivia stiffened. The woman had received the same symbol, a withered black rose. Just like the one she’d gotten days ago. Was it a coincidence? Or was she now the next pawn in someone’s twisted game? She swallowed hard, trying to piece it all together. Someone had forced this woman to call the police right after the shot was fired. Someone had planned everything to make her brother look guilty. And now… that same someone had sent her a warning. “Do you know why they blackmailed you?” Olivia asked, her voice low but firm. Mrs. Kimberly shook her head, her shoulders sagging. “I don’t. I swear I don’t. I just… I got the messages. They knew things about me, things no one should know. I didn’t have a choice.” Her voice cracked as she looked away, shame flickering across her face. “I was scared.” Olivia’s chest tightened. For a moment, she saw a different version of the woman—one no longer poised or proud, but vulnerable. Frightened. Used. Still, her brother was paying the price
Right now, Olivia couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Her vision blurred as the pressure against her throat tightened, each breath more difficult than the last. Just moments ago, the woman had worn a mask of warmth and charm in the hall, smiling, speaking sweetly. But out here in the corridor, she’d shed the act, revealing something darker. A twisted truth. From the little Olivia could grasp through her panic, Mrs. Kimberly was mistaking her for someone else—a journalist, apparently. Someone who had once uncovered a dangerous secret. Someone who had been paid to keep silent. Blackmail... the woman had mentioned blackmail. What was going on? Olivia’s mind raced. If she didn’t figure out what this woman believed, what she feared, then she wouldn’t just fail her mission. She might not even make it out of this corridor. And worse, the truth she came searching for might die right here with her. “C-Ca-Can we talk?” Olivia choked out, her voice barely more than a strained
Olivia’s breath hitched, her entire body going rigid. She didn’t move. Couldn’t. The way Mrs. Kimberly’s eyes narrowed—sharp and probing, it was like she was being stripped bare right in the middle of the room. Olivia’s heart pounded against her ribs, loud and fast, like a warning drum in her chest. Did she know? Had she figured her out? A cold sweat crept down the back of her neck, but Olivia held her ground, forcing her face to remain neutral. Calm. Unbothered. Inside, though, she was unraveling. Mrs. Kimberly took one step forward. Then another. Each footfall echoed louder than the last, as if the whole salon had gone quiet. Olivia’s fingers curled slightly by her side. She couldn’t tell if the woman was about to accuse her or dismiss her, or worse. Then suddenly, just when Olivia’s nerves were about to snap— “Oh my goodness!” Mrs. Kimberly exclaimed, breaking into a wide smile before wrapping her arms around Olivia. The hug came so suddenly, Olivia nearly stumbled. She f
Olivia stepped deeper into the hall and spotted an empty seat near the corner. She slid into it with practiced ease, smoothing her dress and pulling out her phone to feign interest. Her heart was beating far too fast for comfort, but her face remained stoic. A worker approached—a young woman with short black hair tucked neatly under a cap, her gloved hands folded politely. “Good morning, ma'am,” she said with a respectful smile. Olivia glanced at her, then remembered who she was meant to be. Her real self—the kind, soft-spoken girl, had no place here. She cleared her throat and sank back into the seat, voice cool and clipped. “I’ll begin later.” The worker nodded and walked away, unfazed. Olivia exhaled slowly. She hated being curt, but in here, she wasn’t Olivia Harris. She was a poised, high-class woman with status—and that role demanded presence, not kindness. Her eyes scanned the salon. The space smelled of expensive oils and faint rosewater. Sleek mirrors lined the
Olivia slipped into the back seat of Christopher’s car, her fingers brushing nervously over her skirt as she settled beside him. Her heart was racing—loud, wild, relentless. Today wasn’t just another day and the weight of it pressed heavily on her chest. The driver entered moments later, and the car eased into motion. They were headed to the beauty salon—the one Christopher had subtly mentioned the night before during dinner. Just a few cryptic words, then silence. That was all he gave her. She had stayed up half the night going over possible scenarios, trying to anticipate every reaction, every outcome. But none of it was enough. Preparation meant nothing when anxiety had a vice grip on your spine. She stole a glance to her right. Christopher sat with his head leaned back, eyes closed, as if the day ahead meant nothing. Calm. Always so maddeningly calm. But then again, he wasn’t the one who had to approach a stranger and coax out delicate information. He wasn’t the one wh
Christopher sat alone in his study, the quiet scratch of his pen moving across paper the only sound in the room. Shadows curled at the edges of the lamplight, and the air held a stillness that wasn’t quite peaceful. He paused mid-sentence, the ink drying beneath his fingertips as his thoughts wandered, to Racheal. Her words echoed in his mind, sharp and filled with something venomous. He closed his eyes briefly, then exhaled. A muscle ticked in his jaw. His gaze shifted to the telephone on the corner of his desk. Without hesitation, he reached for it and dialed. A servant answered quickly, the voice distant on the other end. “Bring Olivia to my study.” His voice was low, controlled. He hung up without another word. Minutes passed. He didn’t move, just stared ahead at nothing. Then a gentle knock interrupted the silence. The door opened slowly. Olivia stepped inside, her presence quiet, almost careful. She wore a long green dress, modest in cut but flowing with quiet g