4

I underestimated my strength.

Because as soon as I returned to the casino, everything caught up to me. My body collapsed beneath me. The world spun as my vision blurred.

And just before I blacked out, I saw a girl running toward me, panic in her eyes.

Funny, how a stranger looked more concerned than anyone I had spent years building a life with.

…

When I opened my eyes, I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. Every muscle ached. My throat was raw and my skin fever-warm.

“Where am I?” I croaked, turning toward the girl sitting beside my bed.

“You fainted,” she said gently. “You had a high fever, but you’re stable now.”

She stepped closer and removed the damp towel from my forehead, her smile soft.

“And you are…?”

“Just one of the girls who works the tables at your casino,” she said. “I’ve seen you around a few times. I’m Selena.”

I blinked at her. She was young. Warm. Innocent.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “For bringing me here.”

As I looked at her kind, open face, I saw someone I hadn’t thought about in years.

Myself. Before everything went to hell.

And in that moment, something inside me shifted.

An old question stirred. One I’d buried beneath guilt and shame and silence.

What really happened that night?

The night Lila claimed I handed her over to a monster.

For years, I accepted that the truth would stay buried—because the security footage had mysteriously disappeared.

But I had never gone to him. The man at the center of it all.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my assistant. “Can you get me a meeting with Mr. Ivory?…Yes. No, it’s not business-related… it’s personal. An incident from a long time ago….Good. Let me know when and where.”

…

Within forty-eight hours, I had a face-to-face scheduled with Mr. Ivory.

I’ll admit, I expected a monster. A brute. Someone who oozed menace.

But the man who stepped into the room looked like someone who belonged in a tailored suit ad campaign.

Late thirties, fit, dark hair slicked back, his watch probably cost more than my wedding ring. Handsome, charming… disarming.

“Miss Brooks,” he greeted, voice smooth. “What brings you to me?”

I kept my expression neutral, though my fingers curled into a slow, tight fist beneath the table. “I’m here to ask you about something that happened several years ago. Here. In this casino.”

His brow furrowed. “Something I did?”

“You tell me,” I said, clearing my throat. “Do you recall a girl? Young. She said… you forced yourself on her.”

His head tilted. A soft laugh left his lips. “Forced? Miss Brooks, do I look like a man who needs to force himself on anyone?”

Unfortunately for the world, he was right. He was the kind of man women chased.

I held up a photo of Lila, her smile wide and sweet. “You probably don’t remember her. But maybe this helps.”

He took a glance, uninterested. Then turned to his bodyguard. “You recognize her?”

The man beside him grinned like he’d been waiting to be asked. “That one? Yeah, I remember her.”

He chuckled darkly. “That girl was almost throwing herself at me. She begged me to take her to see you. Said she’d do anything—so I let her.” He snorted. “Then I kicked her out. Told her to fuck off when I was done.”

He looked at Ivory. “Trash like that ain’t worth your time, boss.”

There it was. The truth. Lila hadn’t been assaulted.

She lied.

Her own choices, her shame, her parents’ deaths. She made herself the victim… and I was her scapegoat.

…

I didn’t run straight to Elliot. I simply sat with the truth, letting it settle deep in my bones like a balm after years of bruises.

And Elliot called just in time.

“Where the hell have you been, Olivia?” His voice sounded tired, irritated. “I told you to drop the act. Owen and I need you. Lila’s still here. Why can’t you just come home and help around the house?”

There was a pause. Then the old same dagger.

“You owe her that much, you know.”

I laughed softly, a humorless little sound. “I owe her nothing.”

And then, I hung up.

I sent Elliot a single voice recording—just under two minutes long.

Ivory’s bodyguard, bragging, spelling it all out. Exactly what Lila did, and why.

Attached, I typed out a message:

“Here’s the truth you always wanted. Hope you don’t cry too hard when you realize just what a diva your precious Lila really was.”

And with that, I put my phone away.