Lucas’s POVThe house was exactly how I had left it—silent, pristine, and cold. It was supposed to feel like home, but it never really did.I dropped my keys on the counter, loosened my tie, and exhaled slowly. The silence felt heavier today, pressing against me like an unwanted weight. Maybe it was because I’d spent the last few days away, wrapped up in a whirlwind of things I hadn’t planned for—Olivia, Aiden’s surgery, and my own conflicting emotions. Or maybe it was because I already knew this wasn’t going to be a peaceful morning.The knock at the door came exactly when I expected it. Sharp. Demanding.I sighed, rubbing my temple before walking over. When I pulled the door open, my mother stood there, her gaze unreadable but her presence suffocating as always."Lucas," she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "You're finally home."I shut the door behind her. "I didn't realize I needed to check in."She ignored the remark, letting her eyes sweep over the house
Lucas’s POVThe meeting room at Miller Robotics had a pristine, corporate feel—glass walls, sleek chairs, and a long table that reflected the soft overhead lighting. I stepped inside, adjusting my suit jacket, forcing my focus to shift from my earlier argument with my mother to the task at hand. Business. That was what mattered right now.Olivia was already seated at the far end of the table, her back straight, fingers lightly resting on a stack of neatly arranged documents. She looked calm, composed, and completely unaffected by the tension I was carrying.Our eyes met briefly, and she gave me a small nod. It was professional, distant, and nothing more.I returned it with the same level of detachment, then pulled out a chair and sat down.“Lucas,” Robert’s voice cut through the silence as he entered, his handshake firm as he took his seat across from me. “Glad you could make it.”“Wouldn’t miss it,” I said, my tone even.“Good,” he replied, glancing at Olivia before flipping o
Olivia’s POVThe dress fit like a second skin, sleek and elegant, cascading down to the floor in deep emerald satin. It was a color I rarely wore, but tonight, I wanted to feel different. Strong. Untouchable.I fastened the diamond bracelet around my wrist, the cool metal grounding me as I took one last look in the mirror. My reflection stared back, composed and unreadable—just the way I needed to be.Tonight wasn’t about emotions. It wasn’t about the past.It was about power.A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I exhaled, smoothing my dress before heading to open it.Ethan stood on the other side, dressed in a tailored black suit. He gave me an approving once-over and smirked. “Not bad, Liv. You clean up well.”I rolled my eyes, but a small smile tugged at my lips. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”He offered his arm, and I took it, feeling steadier as we walked out together.Tonight, Ethan was my date. And I needed that—someone to remind me who I was before eve
Olivia’s POVThe music and laughter of the gala blurred into a distant hum as I pushed through the crowd, my heartbeat pounding louder than the orchestra playing in the background. My heels clicked rapidly against the polished floor as I searched for Ethan, my eyes scanning the sea of well-dressed guests, but he was nowhere in sight.Panic clawed at my chest. I took a sharp breath, trying to steady myself. My hands trembled as I reached for my phone, quickly typing out a message:"Ethan, where are you? Aiden is missing."I hit send, but there was no immediate response.I swallowed hard, forcing myself to think clearly. The only person who could help right now was Lucas.My eyes landed on him across the room, engaged in conversation with an important businessman. He looked composed, his posture relaxed, but I didn’t have time for formalities. I pushed forward, ignoring the murmurs of disapproval as I interrupted.“Lucas.” I grabbed his arm, my voice barely above a whisper but sh
Olivia’s POVThe moment Vivian’s phone rang, a chill ran down my spine. The sharp sound cut through the air like a knife, and for a second, none of us moved. The screen glowed in the dimly lit hospital room, an unknown number flashing ominously.Vivian stared at it, her hands trembling as she gripped the device. Her face had gone completely pale, her breathing shallow.“It’s him,” she whispered.A suffocating silence filled the room.Lucas, standing by the window with his hands in his pockets, turned sharply at her words. His eyes darkened with suspicion. I could see the shift in his posture—the way his body tensed like a predator sensing danger.I swallowed hard. “Answer it,” I urged. “Put it on loudspeaker.”Vivian hesitated, her fingers hovering over the screen. “What if—”“Vivian,” Lucas cut in, his voice firm but calm. “Aiden’s in danger. We need to know what we’re dealing with.”She inhaled shakily, then pressed the button. The call connected with a low static hum, followed by a
Lucas’ POVThe ride back to Olivia’s house was quieter than I expected.Vivian had dozed off in the backseat, exhaustion finally catching up to her. Olivia sat beside her, her gaze fixed outside the window, lost in thought. Ethan drove with one hand on the wheel, his expression unreadable. And me? I stared at the road ahead, gripping the armrest, my mind racing.Aiden was still missing. We had a plan in motion, but none of us could predict how tomorrow would play out. And on top of that, there was Ethan—always hovering around Olivia, always in the picture.When Olivia finally spoke, her voice was quiet but firm. “We should go to my place.”Ethan flicked his eyes toward her in the rearview mirror. “Are you sure? We could go to mine instead.”She shook her head. “No, my house is closer. And I’d rather be home.”I turned to look at her, but she avoided my gaze. I didn’t push. She had enough on her mind.When we arrived, one of Olivia's maid welcomed us inside. I hadn’t been here in a whi
Olivia’s POVI woke up before dawn, my heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird. Anxiety twisted in my stomach, refusing to let me rest.Today was the day.For hours, I had tossed and turned, thinking of everything that could go wrong. Aiden was still out there, alone and scared. Vivian was barely holding herself together, and Ethan had been handling everything with an eerie calmness that unsettled me. And Lucas—Lucas was a storm waiting to be unleashed.I swung my legs off the bed and sat on the edge, rubbing my temples. Sleep had been a luxury none of us could afford.Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself up and walked toward my closet. Practicality over appearance. I slipped into dark jeans, a fitted sweater, and my most comfortable boots. Today wasn’t about looking presentable—it was about being prepared for whatever was coming.When I made my way downstairs, the house was silent except for the faint sound of someone moving in the kitchen. I followed the noise and foun
Olivia’s POVThe car was silent except for Aiden’s soft breathing. Vivian had wrapped him in her arms, her fingers tangled in his hair as if letting go would mean losing him again. His small body was curled against her, exhausted, but safe. That was all that mattered.Ethan was focused on the road, his grip tight on the steering wheel. His eyes darted to the rearview mirror every few seconds, as if expecting a car to tail us. I wasn’t sure if it was paranoia or caution, but I appreciated it either way."We should take Aiden to Liv's,” Ethan said his was voice calm but firm.Vivian barely reacted at first, then shook her head. "I don’t want to risk it. If Tony has other men watching—""Vivian, Tony has been arrested. He won’t," Ethan added. "And even if he tries something, I’ll have security watching over the house. No one will touch you or Aiden again."Vivian hesitated, glancing at her son. He was too tired to process anything, his small hand clutching at her sleeve. Finally, she ex
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
Olivia's PovThe morning sun casted soft shadows across the hardwood floor, but its warmth did little to ease the chill that had settled deep in my bones. I’d chosen to stay home today, my heart and body too heavy to face the world beyond these walls. The past days had been a relentless storm—Lucas’s injuries, the explosion that obliterated my car, Richard’s chilling admission that it was meant for me, and Amelia’s venomous accusations at the hospital. My chest was a tight knot of worry, fear, and guilt, each emotion a weight that anchored me to the sofa, my knees drawn to my chest, a blanket draped over my shoulders like a fragile shield. The news, always ravenous for scandal, seemed to stalk me, my name or my company’s splashed across headlines month after month, a cycle of exposure that left me feeling raw, vulnerable, a target in a game I couldn’t decipher. My throat tightened, my breath shallow as I stared blankly at the wall, my thoughts a tangled mess of dread and despair.