Lucas' POVI parked my car in the garage, my mind still swirling with thoughts of Olivia. The message she sent earlier replayed in my head: cold, distant, and completely unlike the Olivia I knew.“No, I’m fine, Mr. Preston. I don’t need any assistance.”Mr. Preston? When did I become just “Mr. Preston” to her? My grip tightened on the steering wheel, and before I realized it, I banged my hand against it in frustration.I sat there for a moment, staring out the windshield, trying to make sense of everything. This wasn’t the Olivia I fell in love with, the Olivia who used to light up at the sight of me. She was always warm, always kind. How could she change so much overnight?With a deep sigh, I stepped out of the car and walked into the house, hoping to find some peace. But as soon as I opened the door, I was greeted by the sight of my mother and Amelia sitting in the living room.My mother was the first to speak, her voice sharp. “Why are you just coming home now? And where’s Am
Olivia’s POVEarlier that day,The soft touch of a kiss on my forehead woke me gently. I blinked my eyes open and found Ethan leaning over me, a warm smile on his face. “Good morning, Liv,” he said, his voice as soothing as ever.“Good morning,” I mumbled, stretching lazily. I smiled up at him and pulled him into a quick hug.“You’re leaving already?” I asked, my voice laced with disappointment.“Yes,” he said, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “I have to catch my flight. But I wanted to see you before I left.”I sat up and gave him a playful pout. “Have breakfast with me before you go.”He laughed softly. “I don’t have much time, but for you, I’ll stay.”We moved to the dining room, and over breakfast, Ethan’s concern surfaced again. “Are you sure you’ll be okay here all by yourself?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.I waved off his concern. “Ethan, I’m fine. You’ve already left me with a small army of maids and everything I could possibly need. What could g
Olivia’s POVI was typing furiously on my laptop. The work I hadn’t finished yesterday loomed over me, demanding my attention. I sipped my coffee, trying to drown the persistent ache in my ankle. I had barely made any progress when a knock came at my door.“Come in,” I called, not looking up.One of the maids stepped inside, her voice gentle. “Ma’am, the family doctor is here to check on your ankle.”I closed my laptop with a sigh. “Alright, I’ll be down in a minute.”Rolling my wheelchair to the living room, I greeted the doctor with a polite smile. He was an older man with kind eyes, someone who had been treating our family for years. “Good morning, Doctor.”“Good morning, Olivia,” he said, his tone warm. “How are you feeling today?”“Better, I suppose,” I replied. “The pain isn’t as sharp as before.”“That’s good to hear. Let’s take a look, shall we?”The session began with him asking me a series of questions about my ankle. As he gently massaged the area, I winced but kep
Olivia’s POVAfter Lucas and I finished dinner, he insisted on cleaning up the dishes. I tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but as usual, his stubbornness won. So I let him. The sound of water running in the kitchen filled the house as I sat back in the living room, staring at the candle I’d lit earlier.Soon, Lucas returned, wiping his hands on a towel. He looked more at ease than I’d seen him in years. “All done,” he said with a faint smile, settling onto the sofa opposite me.I watched as he reached for the stack of magazines and books on the center table, his fingers pausing when he picked up Wuthering Heights. A familiar nostalgia tugged at me as I saw the worn-out cover in his hands.“Wuthering Heights?” he said, glancing at me. “You’ve read this?”“Of course I have,” I replied, leaning back against the cushions. “It’s one of my favorites. Though I have to admit, it’s not the easiest story to love.”Lucas flipped through the pages, his brows furrowed. “I read it years
Lucas' POVThe vibration of my phone startled me awake. My neck was stiff from sleeping awkwardly on the couch in Olivia’s living room. Groaning, I rubbed my face, trying to blink away the remnants of sleep. It was still dark outside; the rain from last night had stopped, leaving a cool, damp quietness in its wake.The phone buzzed again. I reached for it, squinting at the screen. Amelia. My jaw tightened, and for a second, I considered ignoring the call. But something about the time—5:42 a.m.—made my thumb hover over the answer button.I sighed and pressed it. “What do you want, Amelia?”Her voice came through the line, high-pitched and frantic. “Lucas, it’s an emergency! It’s your mother—she’s not well. You need to come home right away!”My heart dropped. “What happened? Is she in pain? Did she fall?”“She... she just woke up feeling really bad, and I think it’s serious. Please hurry.” Her voice cracked, and any lingering doubts I might’ve had dissolved in an instant.“I’m on
Lucas’ POVThe city buzzed around me as I drove to my office, but all I could hear was Olivia’s voice echoing in my head.“How am I supposed to believe that? You cheated on me, Lucas. You lied to my face for months. What’s stopping you from taking something else that doesn’t belong to you?”My hands tightened on the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. The memory of her words cut deeper than I wanted to admit. I had made mistakes—plenty of them—but stealing? That wasn’t me. How could she think so little of me?I pulled into the underground parking lot of my office building and slammed the car door shut behind me. The anger burning in my chest didn’t ease as I rode the elevator up to my floor. My pride was wounded, sure, but it was the hurt in Olivia’s eyes that haunted me.She thought I was a thief.The soft ding of the elevator pulled me out of my thoughts. I stepped into the cool, sterile air of my office and made my way to my desk. Tossing my keys onto the surface, I sl
Olivia’s POVThe sun casted thin lines of light across my bedroom walls. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying last night’s argument with Lucas over and over in my head. Each time, the scene ended the same way: with him walking out, furious, and my heart feeling like it was caught in a vice.I rolled onto my side and groaned. Why did I have to accuse him?But the necklace was gone, and he had been the only one here. The logic felt airtight last night when I was caught up in anger and fear. Now, in the harsh light of day, doubt crept in. Lucas might have been a liar, even a cheat, but was he really capable of stealing from me?I couldn’t shake the guilt gnawing at my chest. There was only one way to settle this once and for all.Throwing off the covers, I got out of bed and headed for the kitchen, where Marcy, one of the housemaids, was busy wiping down the countertops.“Good morning, Miss Olivia,” she greeted me with her usual chipper tone.I offered a weak smile. “Mo
Lucas’ POVThe moment I stepped into the house, I could feel the tension clinging to the air like a heavy fog. My chest was tight, my jaw set. The confrontation I’d been replaying in my head on the drive here felt inevitable now, and I wasn’t sure how much restraint I had left.My mother was in the living room, lounging on the cream sofa with a cup of tea in hand. She looked up as I walked in, her face lighting up in a way that made my stomach churn.“Lucas, sweetheart! What a pleasant surprise,” she said warmly, setting her cup down.I didn’t return her smile. “Where’s Amelia?”Her brow furrowed slightly. “She’s upstairs. Why? Did something happen?”“Yes,” I said curtly. “And I need to talk to her. Now.”“Lucas,” my mother said, her voice taking on that warning tone she used whenever she thought I was being unreasonable, “I don’t know what’s got you so upset, but—”“Don’t,” I snapped, cutting her off. “Not this time, Mom.”She pursed her lips, a flicker of irritation crossin
Olivia's POV A week had passed since I’d seen Lucas’s text, its words—“Please visit again. I have something for you”—etched into my heart, a constant ache I fought to ignore. Each day was a battle to keep my resolve, to stay away from him, to honor the promise I’d made to Austin and myself to let Lucas go. The decision to cut personal ties, to limit our interactions to business, was a wound that hadn’t healed, a choice driven by the reality of Amelia’s pregnancy and his mother’s hatred, but it tore at me, a longing for his voice, his touch, that lingered like a ghost. My chest ached with the effort to move forward, my heart torn between love and duty, and I threw myself into distractions to keep the pain at bay. Austin, bless him, was my anchor, filling our days with outings and adventures—hiking trails, art galleries, quiet dinners—that brought a fleeting joy, his laughter a balm to my fractured spirit.That morning, I woke to the scent of coffee and pancakes, my eyes fluttering
Lucas's POV The hospital walls of the hospital room wall a prison, its sterile walls and incessant beeping a constant reminder of my fragility, my confinement. Over a week had passed since I texted Olivia—“Please visit again. I have something for you”—and the silence that followed was a weight crushing my chest. Each day without her reply deepened the ache, a mix of worry, longing, and confusion that gnawed at me. What was going through her mind? Had she given up on us, pushed away by Amelia’s pregnancy, my mother’s venom, or the chaos that seemed to follow me? My heart clung to the memory of our reunion—her tears, her hands steadying me, the warmth of her presence—but the lack of response felt like a door slamming shut, leaving me to wonder if I’d lost her for good. My body was healing, the fractures in my spine and shoulder less agonizing, the concussion’s fog lifting, but my spirit was battered, trapped in this room with the two women who made every moment a trial: my mother
Olivia's POV The kitchen was a quiet haven after Dad’s departure, the clink of dishes was a gentle rhythm as Austin and I stood side by side at the sink. My hands moved mechanically, scrubbing plates, rinsing mugs, but my heart was a storm of emotions—gratitude for Austin’s steady presence, guilt for the unanswered question about our marriage, and the raw ache of letting Lucas go. Dad’s directive to cut ties with Lucas echoed in my mind, a confirmation of my own resolve, but it didn’t ease the pain, the longing for a love now out of reach. Austin’s stunned reaction to Dad’s mention of meeting his father lingered, a puzzle I couldn’t solve, stirring an unease that gnawed at me. My chest tightened, my breath shallow as I focused on the dishes, hoping the task would anchor me against the turmoil threatening to spill over.Austin’s voice broke the silence, soft but piercing, catching me off guard. “Olivia,” he said, his tone cautious, his hands pausing in the soapy water, “why do yo
Olivia's POV The morning light filtered through the kitchen windows, casting a soft glow over the counter where I stood, the scent of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee filling the air. My hands moved with purpose, cracking eggs, flipping pancakes, arranging fruit on a plate, but my heart was a tangle of resolve and lingering pain. Last night’s decision to let go of Lucas weighed heavy, a choice that felt both necessary and devastating, like severing a piece of my soul. His face—his desperate hug, his whispered relief in the hospital—haunted me, but so did the reality of Amelia’s pregnancy, his mother’s hatred, the family he was building without me. I couldn’t be the mistress, the shadow in his child’s story, and that truth had solidified my resolve to step back, to protect my heart, to honor the marriage I’d made with Austin, even if it was born of convenience. My throat tightened, my chest aching as I stirred the eggs, the clatter of the spatula a distraction from the tears threa
Olivia's POV The car was a pressure cooker, the air thick with tension, Austin’s words—“You’ll end up a mistress, a second woman”—still burning in my ears, fueling a rage that pulsed through me like wildfire. My hands shook, my chest heaving with a mix of anger and hurt, my tears streaming down my cheeks as I glared at him, his profile rigid against the city lights blurring past. His accusation had struck a nerve, igniting a fury I hadn’t expected, a defiance against the idea that my love for Lucas could be reduced to something so degrading, so small. But beneath the anger was a gnawing fear, a whisper that he might be right, that my place in Lucas’s life was precarious, shadowed by Amelia’s pregnancy and his mother’s hatred. My throat tightened, my heart aching.The guilt of hurting Austin, and the stubborn love for Lucas that refused to let go.Austin’s hands gripped the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, but his voice broke the silence, low and sharp, pushing the tension higher.
Olivia's POV My heart pounded, my breath shallow, my eyes fixed on Amelia, crumpled on the floor, her hands curled around her belly, her sharp cry echoing in the sterile corridor. Lucas was on his knees beside her, his face pale with guilt and panic, his trembling hands reaching to lift her despite his own weakness, the IV line swaying precariously. My chest ached, torn between the love that had surged during our brief, stolen moment—his arms around me, his lips on my forehead—and the crushing guilt of witnessing this fallout, the chaos my presence seemed to ignite. My throat tightened, tears stinging my eyes as I stepped forward, instinct driving me to help Lucas, to steady him as he struggled.“Lucas,” I said, my voice trembling, my hands gripping his arm, supporting his weight as he tried again to lift Amelia, his breath ragged, his eyes wild with fear. But Victoria’s hand shot out, shoving me back with a force that made me stumble, her glare venomous. “Stay away!” she spat,
Lucas's POV “She’s a married woman, she doesn’t belong to you”His statement hung in the air, a cold reminder of the boundaries I’d crossed. My chest tightened, a mix of embarrassment and defiance flooding me as I realized the scene we’d made, my arms around Olivia, my lips on her forehead, all under the hospital’s fluorescent glare. Faces turned our way—nurses, visitors, their eyes curious, judgmental—and I felt heat rise to my cheeks, a flicker of shame for letting my emotions override caution. My body ached, the IV line tugging at my hand, the pain in my spine and shoulder a constant throb, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my heart, the desperate need to hold onto Olivia, to keep her close after nearly losing her.I pulled back, my hands dropping from her face, my voice low, apologetic. “I’m sorry,” I said, my eyes flicking to Austin, then back to Olivia, my throat tight with regret. “I didn’t mean to… I just—I thought you were gone, and I couldn’t—” My words falter
Lucas's POVThe hospital room felt like a cage, its sterile walls closing in, the incessant beep of the heart monitor a mocking reminder of my fragility. My body ached—my spine and shoulder throbbed with every breath, my head pounded with the lingering fog of the concussion—but the real pain was in my chest, a raw, searing ache that came from Amelia’s words: “Olivia’s dead. She died in the explosion.” The memory of her venomous lie, the way it had shattered me before I lost consciousness, haunted me, a wound that refused to heal. I lay propped against the pillows, my hands clenched, my heart a battlefield of grief, doubt, and a stubborn flicker of hope that Olivia was still out there, alive, despite Amelia’s cruelty. The room was a prison, and the two people in it—Amelia and my mother—were the most unbearable company I could imagine, their presence a suffocating weight that made me dread every moment.Amelia sat in a chair by the window, her arms crossed, her face a mask of sullen
Olivia's POV The hospital lobby was a crucible of judgment, every pair of eyes boring into me like a spotlight, their stares heavy with suspicion and curiosity. Victoria stood before me, her face twisted with grief and rage, her voice still ringing in my ears—“Murderer!”—a word that branded me, searing into my heart. My chest heaved, my breath shallow, my legs trembling as I stood frozen. My throat tightened, tears stinging my eyes as guilt and fear churned within me, a relentless storm that whispered I was to blame, that my presence was a curse, dragging death and destruction to everyone I loved. The whispers of onlookers—nurses, visitors, staff—grew louder, a chorus of judgment that made my skin crawl, my heart pounding with a panic I couldn’t quell.Austin’s hand was on my arm, his presence a steady anchor, but before he could speak, a commotion broke through the crowd. Two police officers pushed their way toward us, their faces stern, their steps purposeful, led by an older