เข้าสู่ระบบOlivia's POV
The day flew by in a blur of paperwork and meetings. I was still piling up files at my desk when my phone buzzed. "Shit!" I glanced at the time. 6:45 PM. Marcus's party. I'd completely forgotten about our little "appointment." Not that I was eager to attend, but I needed to see what new games he and his conspirators were playing. I rushed to the company shower, my ankle still throbbing beneath the cast. The warm water did little to ease the tension in my shoulders. Whatever they were planning tonight, I needed to stay sharp. Stepping out with a towel wrapped around me, I nearly collided with a broad chest. "Marcus?" I gasped. "What are you doing here?" His eyes traveled down my barely-covered body, and I clutched the towel tighter to my body. "Picking you up, of course." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Can't have my beautiful wife arrive alone." "I told you I'd come myself." "Change of plans." He dangled his car keys. "I'll wait outside while you get dressed." Twenty minutes later, we were in his sleek black Audi, tension thick between us. He placed his hand on my thigh, and it took everything in me not to flinch. "You look stunning," he said, eyes fixed on the road. "Thanks." I stared out the window, wondering what humiliation awaited me tonight. We arrived at a high-end hotel downtown. Marcus was the perfect gentleman, opening doors, his hand possessively on my lower back as we entered. People turned to stare, whispering behind their hands. The rumors from yesterday were clearly still circulating. "Smile," Marcus whispered in my ear. "Everyone's watching." "That's the point, isn't it?" I muttered, but plastered on a fake smile anyway. As we made our way through the crowd, I spotted a familiar face that made my blood run cold. "Victoria?" My adopted sister approached us, champagne glass in hand. Last I heard, she was conspiring with Natalie against me. Now she was beaming like we were best friends. "Olivia!" She embraced me, the scent of expensive perfume overwhelming. "I'm so glad you came! I've been worried sick about your ankle." I pulled back, searching her face for signs of deception. "That's new. Last week you barely acknowledged my existence." She laughed, a tinkling sound that set my teeth on edge. "Water under the bridge! Family is family, right?" Before I could respond, a hand touched my shoulder. I turned to find Natalie, Marcus's sister who had pushed me off the balcony looking contrite. "Olivia, I've been looking everywhere for you." Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she'd been crying. "I need to apologize for yesterday. It was an accident, I swear." "Sure it was," I said flatly. She produced two champagne glasses from nowhere. "Please, let me make it up to you. A peace offering?" I eyed the drinks suspiciously. "Not thirsty, thanks." Marcus's grip tightened on my waist. "Don't be rude, Olivia. Natalie's trying to apologize." "I'm not angry," I said coolly. "Just not interested in drinking." "Take it," Marcus hissed in my ear, his fingers digging into my side. I looked at the two glasses and had a sudden inspiration. "If you're really sorry, Natalie, why don't you drink both? Show me there's nothing to worry about." Natalie's face paled. "I…" Before she could finish, Marcus snatched one glass and gripped my jaw with his free hand. "Stop being difficult," he growled, forcing the rim against my lips. The liquid spilled into my mouth before I could stop it. I swallowed reflexively, panic rising in my chest. "Excuse me," I choked out, pulling away from Marcus. "Bathroom." I limped as quickly as my injured ankle would allow, locking myself in a stall. Whatever they'd put in that drink, I needed to get it out now. I stuck two fingers down my throat, gagging until everything came up. Tears streamed down my face as I heaved again and again, making sure my stomach was empty. After cleaning myself up, I slipped out of the bathroom and found an empty conference room down the hall. My hands shook as I pulled out my phone and dialed. "David? It's Olivia. I need you." David Lawrence was more than my lawyer, he was the only person besides Jane I truly trusted. And lately, I'd noticed the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn't paying attention. "What's wrong?" His voice was instantly alert. "Where are you?" I gave him the address. "Please hurry." Fifteen minutes later, David appeared in the doorway of my hideout, concern etched on his handsome face. "You look terrible," he said bluntly. I laughed despite myself. "Thanks. Just what a girl wants to hear." He closed the door behind him. "What happened?" I told him everything, the drugged drink, Marcus's behavior, Victoria's suspicious friendliness, everything entirely. "We need to get you out of here," David said, his jaw tight with anger. "And you need to start divorce proceedings. This is beyond toxic, Olivia." "I can't leave yet. I need evidence of what they're planning." "You're not safe here." He ran a hand through his dark hair. "At least let me get you home." We shared a bottle of water he had in his jacket pocket, the simple act of kindness nearly bringing me to tears after everything that had happened. "Come on," he said, helping me up. "Let's go before they realize you're missing." We'd almost made it to the parking lot when a sickly-sweet voice called out behind us. "Olivia! There you are!" Natalie hurried toward us, fake concern plastered across her face. "We've been looking everywhere for you!" "I'm not feeling well," I said. "David's taking me home." She glanced at David's hand supporting my elbow, her eyes narrowing. "Marcus is your husband. He should be the one taking care of you." Before David could respond, Marcus appeared, his expression thunderous when he saw us together. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, yanking my hand away from David's. "Your wife was feeling unwell," David said coolly. "Something about a drink someone forced her to take." Marcus's glare could have melted steel. "This is between me and my wife. Back off, Lawrence." "Olivia asked for my help," David stood his ground. "And considering you just tried to…." "It's a lover's quarrel," Natalie interrupted, smiling sweetly at David. "You understand, don't you? They'll work it out." "No!" I tried to pull away from Marcus. "David, don't listen to them." But Marcus was already dragging me toward his car, his grip bruising my wrist. "We're going home," he growled. "Now." I looked back desperately at David, who was being physically blocked by Natalie and two security guards who'd appeared out of nowhere. As Marcus shoved me into the passenger seat, one thought crystallized in my mind. This wasn't just a toxic marriage anymore. It is now a war…POV: VictoriaI had not slept properly in eleven days. I knew the exact number because I had been counting, the way you count things when your mind needs something small and manageable to hold onto while everything larger falls apart around it. Eleven nights of lying in the dark with the ceiling above me and the silence pressing down like something physical, heavy and suffocating.The hotel room was nice. Marcus was still paying for it, which meant he still considered me an asset rather than a problem. For now. But I had heard what Sophia said to him last week, standing in the corridor outside his office while I waited to be let in for a meeting that got cancelled without explanation.Her voice through the door, smooth and deliberate, the voice of a woman making a careful argument. "Victoria is a loose end, Marcus. She knows too much and she's too emotional to be reliable. You saw how she looked at the board meeting. She's cracking."A pause. His voice, too low for me to make out the
POV: DavidWe were out of the apartment in eleven minutes. I had a bag already half packed from the day the warning message came about eyes inside the building. Paranoia or preparation, I had not been sure which at the time. Now I was glad for it. I grabbed the case files, the hard drives, Camille's folder, and the essentials. Olivia moved fast and without complaint, which told me the brick through the window had shifted something in her. The quiet stubbornness she used to slow things down when she felt her independence being managed was gone. She was in survival mode now.Survival mode kept people alive.vI called Marcus while we took the stairs. Not Marcus Collins. My friend Marcus Webb, no relation to the judge, who owned a photography loft on the west side of the city that he used maybe four months out of the year when he was between assignments. He answered on the second ring, heard three sentences of explanation, and said the address without asking for more details. That was th
POV: OliviaNobody spoke for a moment after Zara said it. David was the first to move. He pulled a chair from against the wall and sat down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his full attention on her. I stayed where I was, standing near the window, because sitting felt impossible right now."Senator Pryce," I said.Zara nodded. "Gerald Pryce. Four term senator, judiciary committee, clean public record, the kind of politician that other politicians point to when they need an example of respectability." She opened her folder and turned it toward us on the desk. "For the past six years, he has been running campaign contributions through a series of shell companies, cleaning the money, and parking it in legitimate business investments. One of those investments is Marcus Collins's company."I looked at the document. Financial flowcharts, company names I did not recognize, dates."Marcus's company is the washing machine," Zara continued. "Money goes in dirty through campaign co
POV: OliviaDavid told me about the bar notice the same way he told me everything difficult. Directly, without cushioning it, sitting across from me at the kitchen table with the letter flat between us so I could read it myself rather than receive a softened version.I read it twice. Formal review of professional conduct. Allegations of romantic involvement with a current client. Thirty days to respond. Practice suspended pending outcome if response deemed insufficient.I pushed the letter back across the table and stood up."I'll find another lawyer," I said."No.""David..""No." He picked the letter up and folded it with the deliberate calm of someone who had already decided how they felt about something and was not interested in revisiting it. "This is a fabricated complaint built on manipulated photographs. I have thirty days to dismantle it and I will.""And while you're spending those thirty days dismantling a false ethics complaint, who is building our actual case?" I turned t
POV: MarcusI found out about Lena on a Tuesday morning. Leo placed the intelligence report on my desk without a word, the way he always delivered things he knew would require a reaction I would not want witnessed. He set it down, stepped back, and waited by the door with his hands clasped, looking at a point on the wall slightly above my head.I read the first paragraph twice.David Chen had submitted a formal information request to Croatian maritime authorities regarding a boating incident from four years ago. The request cited a named vessel, a named charter company, and a named victim.Lena Vasquez. I set the paper down slowly."Who else has seen this?" I asked."Only me," Leo said. "The contact in the maritime liaison office flagged it directly to our line as agreed.""Good." I straightened the paper against the desk, aligning it with the edge. A small, mechanical action that gave my hands something to do while my mind moved quickly through the implications. "That will be all, Le
POV: DavidOlivia did not want me to go alone. She did not say it loudly. That was not her way. She said it quietly, standing by the table with a case file held against her chest like a shield, her eyes steady on my face."You don't know what she wants," she said."I know what she said she wants. Information about Marcus.""You don't know that she's not being used. Marcus knows about me and you. He knows you're my lawyer. Going to your ex-wife with something designed to pull you away from here alone at night is exactly the kind of move..""Camille is not working for Marcus." I said it with more certainty than felt comfortable. The truth was I did not know what Camille had been doing for the past two years. But I knew her. I had known her for eleven years. The voice on that phone was not a performance.Olivia looked at me for a moment, then looked away. "Fine."That one word carried a considerable amount of weight."I'll have my phone on the whole time," I said. "Zara is ten minutes aw







