5

“You feeling better now?” Selena stepped into the office, balancing a glass of water on a tray.

“Yeah. Better. Thanks.” I offered a small smile, taking it from her hands.

She hesitated. “Sorry if I overheard... were you arguing with your husband?”

“Yep. Just another normal day, another normal argument... over a bitch.” I couldn’t think of a more delicate way to describe Lila, and honestly? I didn’t feel like trying.

Selena’s brows shot up, then she laughed. “Don’t we all have that kind of bitch in our lives.”

“Mine’s a little different,” I sighed, taking a slow sip. “She blames me for something she did.”

“That’s next-level bitchy,” Selena muttered, eyes narrowing. “And your husband? He doesn’t believe you?”

“Of course not. He’s always seen me as the villain.” I smiled bitterly. “I guess I was just too much woman for him to handle.”

“Nonsense,” she said, chin lifting. “You’re powerful. Independent. You run a successful business. He should be grateful to have you.”

I couldn’t help a dry laugh.

“To be fair,” she added with a little shrug, “if that’s how he treats you, you’ve got questionable taste in men. No offense.”

“None taken,” I murmured. “It’s true. Poor taste in men... and in friends.”

And maybe, I thought bitterly, poor taste in motherhood too—if my own child hated me like I was some villain from a bedtime story.

“How about we forget about all of that?” Selena offered gently. “Let me bring you something to eat?”

“Thanks, but I’m fine. Not hungry yet.” I reached into my bag, pulling out the bottle and shaking out a pill.

Selena caught the label and went still. “Depression meds?”

My hand froze for a split second.

She’d seen it. And now the air felt different—heavier. Like a long-held secret had suddenly been laid bare.

I forced a smile. “Yeah... Do you mind keeping that to yourself?”

“Of course.” She nodded, then exhaled slowly. “I just didn’t expect it. You always seemed so... strong. Unshakable.”

“I guess everyone breaks eventually,” I said lightly, trying to shrug it off. “Don’t worry about me. I’m managing.”

She looked like she wanted to say something else, but the door slammed open so hard it hit the wall with a crack.

Elliot stormed in, phone clutched in his hand, fury written across every line of his face.

“What the fuck did you just send me?” he barked, storming toward me and shoving the phone in my face.

“Exactly what you heard,” I said calmly, tucking the pill bottle away. “A confession. You did hear it, right?”

His eyes flickered—guilt flashing before he looked away.

Behind him came Lila, all soft eyes and trembling lips.

“How could you do this to me?” she gasped, as if wounded. “Even if you hate me, Olivia, how could you lie about what happened? You actually found someone to fake a confession?”

I looked between them—Elliot refusing to meet my gaze, and Lila clinging to her innocence like it was a designer shawl.

“You brought her here?” I asked flatly.

Elliot mumbled, “I opened the message while she was with me…”

Of course he did.

Lila pouted dramatically, blinking fast like the tears were just waiting in the wings. “I knew you hated me, Olivia… but fabricating a confession? That’s low. Even for you.”

I stared at her for a long, cold minute.

Oh, sweetheart.

You haven’t even seen low yet.

“I didn’t fake it, and you know it, Lila,” I said flatly.

Selena, bless her bold little heart, stepped in with a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Miss Brooks doesn’t have time to fake recordings. She just came back from the hospital.”

Elliot’s eyes widened. “Hospital? You didn’t say anything. What—are you sick?”

“She fainted in the middle of the casino lobby,” Selena said, clearly unimpressed, her gaze shifting pointedly between Lila and Elliot. “I assumed her loving husband and best friend would’ve known. Guess not.”

Elliot reached for my hand, suddenly all soft concern. “Sorry, I didn’t know…”

I pulled my hand away, cool and unbothered. “It wasn’t serious. And I wouldn’t want to disturb my ex-husband and his true love.”

That one landed.

Elliot flinched, his face coloring. I half expected him to lash out, like he’d done so many times before. But instead, he plastered on a weak smile and reached for me again. “Babe, come on. Don’t be mad. I know I forgot our anniversary dinner, but I’ll make it up to you. I swear.”

He looked genuinely frustrated when I didn’t respond. “I came here, didn’t I? What more do you want from me, Olivia?”

“Without me,” he added quietly, “who’s going to love you the way I do?”

I blinked at him, stunned by the sheer audacity.

Who was going to love me?

I own the most successful casino in New York City. I didn’t need his pity—or his love. And he’d never truly given either.

“Do you hear yourself right now?” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “You think I—Olivia—can’t survive without you?”

“Babe, that’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, reaching again.

I took a step back. I’d had enough.

And there was Lila. Still lingering behind him, playing the role of the soft-spoken wife. Big eyes. Fragile lips. Too afraid to speak. As if I couldn’t see straight through her.

“Do me a favor and get the hell out of my casino,” I said, eyes pinned on her.

Her lips trembled. The eyes watered on cue. “I… I just wanted to see how you were doing, Olivia. I never meant to upset you…”

She turned to Elliot, clearly fishing for support.

But this time, Elliot didn’t take the bait.

He looked at her, then at me. “Maybe you should go, Lila. It’s enough that I’m here.”

That almost made me laugh.

“Actually,” I said sweetly, “you should go too. Both of you. Get out of my office. Out of my casino. Or I’ll have my security show you the way.”

Selena, who’d been quiet, suddenly let out a low chuckle. “Some people just don’t get the hint, do they?”

I blinked in surprise—but couldn’t help the smile that followed. She’d said exactly what I was thinking.

Elliot turned to her, scowling. “And who the hell are you to talk to me like that? I’m your boss’s husband. You want me to ask her to fire you?”

Selena arched a brow and looked straight at me. “Miss Olivia, did I overstep? Should I leave?”

I smiled, slow and deliberate. “Of course not. You’re my friend. You’re more than welcome here.”

Then I turned to the intruders. “As for you two—I said leave. And I meant it. Don’t insult my friend again.”