Chapter 4

Once her wrist was bandaged, Olivia was escorted back to the cold, empty house.

The guards she knew were gone. Henry replaced them with men who watched her every move and never let her out of their sight.

Late that night, Olivia sat at her vanity, changing her bandage.

Arms slipped around her from behind, and the smell of alcohol reached her. She stiffened but didn't pull away or turn around.

"Olivia." Henry's voice was low and rough against her ear. "How's your wrist? Does it still hurt?"

She didn't answer. In the mirror, she watched him lower his face to her neck.

He tightened his arms around her. "I brought you something."

He took a velvet box from his jacket and opened it with one hand. Inside was a flawless pink diamond ring.

He removed her simple wedding band and slipped the new ring onto her finger.

"I promised you a new ring every year on this day. Remember?"

Her gaze fell to the ring.

It was the anniversary of the day Henry saved her from the traffickers in Vesperia. He always called it the day her new life began, a day they would celebrate together every year.

Olivia lifted her hand and studied the diamond. It was beautiful and worth a fortune, the kind of ring most women could only dream of wearing.

She slid it off. It struck the vanity with a soft clink, rolled, and settled beside Henry's hand.

His arms went rigid around her.

Olivia turned to face him, her expression perfectly calm. "I have something for you, too."

She opened a drawer, took out a brown envelope, and handed it to him.

Henry pulled out the papers. Three words appeared in bold at the top of the first page.

[Divorce Settlement Agreement]

Olivia's signature was already at the bottom.

Henry stared at the papers for a long time. When he finally looked up, he seemed torn.

"Olivia, don't let Grace come between us."

She gave him a humorless smile. "This isn't another argument, Henry."

He reached for her cheek, a gesture that once came so easily.

"I know I handled things badly with Grace, but she doesn't change what we have. Are you really going to end our marriage over her?"

Olivia turned her face away from his hand. "Did you think about our marriage when you pointed a gun at me to protect her?"

She held his gaze. "You chose her. You hurt me to keep her safe. Sign the papers, Henry, or get ready to bury me. And I might take Grace with me."

His stomach dropped. He knew Olivia well enough to recognize when she meant every word.

"You need to calm down. I'm not signing, and you're not leaving me. Not now. Not ever."

He stood, forcing the last words through clenched teeth, then walked out.

Olivia sat without moving. After a while, she let out a slow breath. Her chest felt hollow, the hurt giving way to numbness.

Eventually, she got up to lock the door. Before she reached it, she heard Henry talking quietly with one of his men outside.

"I took care of Phantom, but there's something else."

The man hesitated. "Something about Tom's death doesn't add up. We should be careful around Ms. Meyer. And Mrs. West…"

"I'll look into Tom's death myself," Henry cut in. "He trusted me to look after Grace. I'm going to keep that promise."

Henry let out a tired sigh.

"Olivia's part of me after all these years. I can't picture my life without her, but I don't feel the way I used to.

"She's become ruthless. Sometimes she goes too far, even for me. If I'd been a second later that day and something happened to Grace, how could I ever face Tom?"

Olivia tightened her grip on the doorknob without making a sound.

His next words stopped her cold.

"Grace is still innocent. None of this ugliness has touched her. When I'm with her, I almost feel like I can wash the blood off my hands."

Pain gripped Olivia's chest, sharp enough to steal her breath.

She remembered the whispers about her past. People said a woman who came from a place like that must have seen every kind of depravity, that there was nothing clean or decent left in her.

Back then, Henry pulled her into his arms and stared them down, his expression murderous.

"I love her exactly as she is. Who the hell are you to judge her?"

Now he stood outside their bedroom, talking about another woman's innocence.

The subordinate tried again. "But Mrs. West wants a divorce..."

"She's throwing a tantrum." Henry sounded certain. "She'll calm down and get over it. She can't live without me."

Their footsteps faded down the hall.

Olivia leaned against the door and slid slowly to the floor. Her wrist throbbed, but the pain barely registered through the cold emptiness inside her.

Henry was wrong about her. She had clawed her way out of hell once, and she wasn't afraid to go back.

He could keep believing Grace made him a better man. He could dismiss the divorce papers as another tantrum.

Soon, they would find out which of them couldn't live without the other.