Chapter 6

Olivia

“How do you feel now dear?” the doctor asks, checking my vitals, her brows furrowing as her gaze drops to the reopened wounds on my wrists.

A flush creeps up my cheeks, uninvited but impossible to hide. I cough, forcing out a, “I’m fine, doc…just tired.”

She smiles sympathetically, her voice soft. “That’s a given, since—”

Her words are abruptly cut off. Both our heads whip toward the door as a sharp knock pierces the quiet, followed by the soft creak of it opening.

Expecting it to be Sebastian, my heart skips, doing a silly little flip—and then promptly crashes.

I frown in disapointment as Mark–Sebastian’s personal assistant steps in instead.

His eyes dart to the doctor first, cautious and apologetic.

"Uh… sorry for interrupting, ma'am."

Her brows knit, lips parting, probably to scold him for the intrusion, but I cut in quickly. "It's okay, doc. I know him."

She pauses, studies me for a beat longer than necessary, then nods. "In that case, I’ll excuse you both."

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Lancaster,” Mark says stiffly, his voice strained as he hovers near the door like the might bite him.

Can't really blame him though. The old me wasn't exactly sunshine and roses with anyone remotely associated with Sebastian. It makes sense that he’s treating me like a live wire wrapped in barbed wire.

“Hi, Mark,” I beam, tossing sweetness over my tongue. I wave him forward, beckoning him closer like we’re old friends or something.

His eyes widen but he moves anyway, stiff shoulders tense like he's walking into a lion’s den.

“So what brings you here? Did Sebastian leave a message? Why didn't he just call me?”

“Well you see m-ma’am, these… papers are from Mr. Lancaster. He wants your signature on them as soon as possible.”

Oh. My brows furrow.

“What papers are these?” I ask, confused as the thick envelope is shoved into my arms. My fingers curl around it, heartbeat thudding in my throat so some weird reason.

“Since when does Sebastian need my signature for anything work-related? He barely trusts me to hold a damn stapler.” I mutter to no one in particular as I slide the papers out of the envelope—then stop cold.

My heart drops. No, it doesn’t drop—it plummets straight into the pit of my stomach, where it turns to stone.

Bold, red letters scream at me from the top of the page: DIVORCE PAPERS.

I stare.

At the papers.

At Mark.

And back at the papers.

My hands tremble. They’re shaking so hard, the documents crinkle in my grip.

“W-What are these?” I whisper, my voice hoarse and laced with disbelief.

He swallows thickly, like the words hurt his throat. “Please sign them, ma’am. I can’t leave here without your uh…signature.”

My heart starts pounding like a war drum in my ears.

Why would Sebastian do this?

We were fine this morning. We kissed. We talked. He looked at me like he… like he still cared.

What the hell changed?

Panic claws at my chest as I throw the papers like they’ve just caught fire. They hit the floor with a soft flutter, like they’re mocking me.

“No!” I hiss. “I’m not signing these.”

But, ma’am—”

"Where's Sebastian now?"

Mark stiffens, his spine straightening like a soldier caught slacking.

"Sir is not here. He's really busy and…unavailable to meet you at the moment."

Anxiety flutters like a thousand tiny needles in my veins, spreading sharp and fast. My jaw clenches as I narrow my eyes at him.

"You're lying," I state coldly, voice void of emotion but burning with truth. I throw my feet to the ground, ignoring the IV tug at my arm. The ground beneath me sways, my feet wobble as a wave of dizziness washes over me, thick and unrelenting, but I push through it, every inch of me screaming for answers.

"Mrs. Lancaster, hold on!"

I ignore Mark completely. My vision tunnels, but I don’t stop. I need to see Sebastian.My body might be weak, but my will is unbreakable.

I throw the door open, heart hammering so loud I swear the walls should be shaking with it.

I spot Sebastian just a few steps to the left—standing stiff by the window, hands buried deep into his pockets. Even from the back, Sebastian radiates tension, his broad shoulders set like stone, muscles coiled tight beneath his tailored suit.

Frustration digs into my skin like claws. My feet drag across the tiles as I hobble my way toward him, the closer I get, the tighter the knot in my stomach coils.

"What is the meaning of this, Sebastian?"

My voice shakes, the words forced past the lump in my throat. "I thought we sorted everything out! Why are you—"

But my words die on my tongue the second he turns around.

The cold, arctic look in his gray eyes is like a slap to my soul. It steals the air from my lungs. This isn't the Sebastian from this morning, I scramble through my mind, desperate to find what I could've wrong—but I come up empty.

"Sign the papers, Olivia."

"No," I say defiantly, stepping toward him, even as my body trembles. My hands reach out, aching for the warmth of him, for something—anything—to make sense again. "Tell me what’s wron—"

But he grabs my hand before I can touch him and tosses it aside like it’s nothing.

He keeps me at arm’s length, his jaw tight, voice like steel.

"I’m sick and tired of your fucking games. You always wanted to be free, right?" He scoffs bitterly. "Well, I’ll set you free."

My breath hitches. "At least tell me what I did wrong Seb!”

He leans closer, venom in his tone. "Let me ask you this… was Philip here today?"

My headache throbs behind my eyes, hot and pulsing with every heartbeat. The frustration bubbles up, dangerously close to boiling.

"Yes, he was. But I can explain, I—"

My words crumble. My head spins so violently, the world tilts sideways. Darkness seeps into the edges of my vision. My knees buckle as everything fades, and I fall—right into his arms.

His name is the last thing I taste on my tongue before I black out, the last thing I see… his eyes.

Terrified.

This time, I dream again. The past slices through the darkness like a curse I can’t escape.

The day I poured acid on Sebastian’s face. The moment time froze. The way it sizzled. Seventy percent of his beautiful face, gone.

"Are you happy? Is this what you wanted?"

He’d asked me that day with a calmness that unnerved me more than any scream.

"Well," he said, smiling through the pain, "I’ll gladly bear this mark for the rest of my life, Olivia."

My eyes flutter open to the sound of my own ragged breaths—and a hand… gently wiping my tears.

I'm back in my ward, The dim light above glows softly. Everything is quiet, Sebastian’s face swims into view, concern etched deep into every line.

But the second his eyes meet mine, he freezes. The tenderness vanishes. And just like that, the hand I’d unknowingly been clutching slips from mine.

"You can’t even take care of yourself properly," he mutters, voice stern. "Always crying."

His fingers graze my forehead, checking for fever—but it’s that warmth that makes my chest tighten, not the touch itself.

I catch his hand again, holding it to my cheek and rubbing softly as I pout.

"Well, it seems my husband has made it his mission to stress his wife… what can I do?"

He pulls his hand free and rises to his feet like the moment never happened.

"Sign the p—"

"Sebastian."

My voice is barely above a whisper, trembling with everything I’m trying to hold back. "Don’t break your promise now," I mutter, tears already stinging the back of my eyes.

"You said you’d give me one last chance… yes? So please… I can’t afford to lose you again."

His brows furrow, and I know I’ve shaken something in him. But I don’t care how foolish I sound, I mean every word.

If he’s already given up on me, then what the hell was the point of this second chance? This rebirth would be meaningless.

He sighs deeply and sinks back down beside me, crossing his arms with that infuriating air of control.

"This is the last chance of freedom I’m giving to you, Olivia." His tone is low. Final. "If you don’t sign these now—"

He leans in suddenly, grabbing my jaw, his grip just on the edge of harsh.

"—I’ll never let go of you, no matter what you do."

My breath catches. A spark flares in my chest—fierce, wild, and irrevocably his.

My eyes glimmer with stubborn fire. And without saying a word… I slam my mouth onto his.

He only hesitates for a second.

Then he takes over the kiss with devastating force, angling my neck like he owns every inch of it. The kiss is punishing, a release of everything—anger, pain, frustration—and I match it with every ounce of desperation inside me.

My back hits the bed. A soft moan escapes the back of my throat, rising in the charged air. I reach up, eyes fluttering open, fingers searching for his face again—but the door suddenly creaks open, the sound of shuffling feet growing louder, startling us both.