Chapter 13 13
Olivia leaned against the door, her eyes fixed on Lucas.
“Lucas… don’t you think it’s time we made this official? Don’t you think we should get married?”
Lucas’s jaw tightened. He slowly pulled his arm away.
“Official?” he repeated, voice flat.
“Yes.” She lifted her chin, trying to look confident. “Everyone already assumes we’re getting married eventually. Mother, the board, your father’s old partners… everyone. You said yourself that commitment is inevitable.”
Lucas exhaled, long and slow.
“Olivia, I never gave you a timeline.”
Her smile flickered. “You don’t need to. We’ve been together for years. You trust me. I know your rhythms, your temper, your work better than anyone. I’m the one who stood by you during the attacks, through your headaches, through everything—”
Lucas blinked once, slowly.
“Olivia,” he said quietly, “I told you before — I just need time.”
She let out a shaky laugh, the kind that held more pain than humor.
“Time,” she echoed. “Lucas, you’ve been saying that for years.”
He took a step forward. “Olivia—”
She shoved him — palm against his chest, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make a point.
“Don’t,” she snapped, voice cracking. “Don’t give me that line again.”
Lucas stilled.
“You keep me dangling,” she whispered, eyes shimmering with fury and heartbreak. “You keep asking me to wait. To be patient. To understand.”
Her voice rose.
“But you never move. You never choose. You never promise.”
“Olivia—”
“No!” she cut him off, turning sharply. “I won’t be strung along anymore.”
She started walking away, practically running toward the hallway.
“Olivia,” Lucas said firmly, taking a step after her.
She glanced back — just once — eyes blazing with hurt.
“You don’t get to call me back,” she said. “Not unless you’re finally ready to choose me.”
He opened his mouth — but no words came.
Olivia saw the hesitation.
Her expression hardened.
“That’s what I thought.”
She turned again, heels striking the marble as she rushed down the hall.
Lucas took one more step to follow —
But then he stopped.
Right in his tracks.
His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening.
His hand fell uselessly to his side.
Because chasing her would mean making a promise he still couldn’t give.
The silence that followed was colder than any winter wind.
Olivia didn’t stop walking until she reached the driveway.
Her driver hurried ahead to open the back door of the black sedan, but she brushed past him, climbing inside with trembling hands. The moment the door shut, the calm on her face shattered.
She grabbed her phone.
Her voice, when she spoke, was icy and controlled — but her eyes burned.
“Confirm the address,” Olivia said.
There was a pause on the other end, then a nervous voice replied.
Olivia stared out the tinted window, her jaw tightening.
“Good,” she whispered.
A message pinged — an address flashing on her screen.
Olivia’s car rolled to a slow stop at the edge of the neighborhood.
Her nose wrinkled instantly.
“What… is this place?” she muttered, staring out the window at the peeling paint, cracked sidewalks, and kids running barefoot between buildings.
The driver hesitated. “This is the address you approved, Miss.”
Olivia sucked in a breath like the air itself offended her.
“Ugh. Fine. Stay here.”
She stepped out, heels snapping sharply against the concrete — each step full of irritation and disgust.
She kept glancing around, as if afraid the neighborhood itself might touch her.
She stopped in front of the rusted apartment door the address had led her to.
This couldn’t be right.
She lifted her hand and knocked once.
Then again, harder.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Nothing.
Olivia’s lips curled.
“I swear, if she’s not in—”
The door creaked open a little, chains still hooked.
Blair froze the moment she saw the familiar silhouette through the peephole.
Her eyes went wide.
Olivia.
Her heart punched against her ribs. What was she doing here? How did she even find this place?
Blair stepped back from the door instinctively, clutching Maverick’s tiny backpack close to her chest. A lump rose in her throat. She wasn’t ready for this — not after the scene at the estate.
Outside, Olivia knocked again, harder this time.
“Blair! I know you’re in there. Open the door.”
Blair’s breath trembled.
Maverick tugged her shirt.
“Mommy… who’s that?”
“No one, baby,” Blair whispered, though her voice shook. “Just… stay right here, okay?”
She swallowed, tiptoed closer, and peeked through the peephole again.
Olivia stood there in her perfectly tailored clothes, arms folded, face pulled into a mask of disgust as she glanced around the hallway like it was contaminated.
Blair’s pulse raced.
Why is she here? What does she want?
Another knock.
“Blair, don’t waste my time. Open the door.”
Blair hesitated… then slowly slid the chain off the lock.
The door opened just an inch.
Olivia’s gaze snapped to her immediately, sharp and vicious.
“Well,” Olivia said, tilting her chin, “finally. I thought you’d run off again.”
Blair stiffened, fingers tightening on the door.
“What… what do you want, Olivia?” she asked quietly.
Olivia smirked.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not here to fight.”
Her eyes drifted past Blair, scanning the dim apartment behind her.
“I just came to… talk.”
Blair’s stomach dropped.
Nothing good ever followed when Olivia wanted to “talk.”
“Little sister,” she began, voice smooth like poisoned honey. “You always listened to me growing up, didn’t you? Obeyed your elder sister? So you’ll listen now.”
Blair’s lips parted, dread settling in her stomach.
“Olivia, please… don’t start—”
But Olivia was already reaching into her designer handbag.
“As I can clearly see,” Olivia continued, eyes sweeping over the tiny apartment with disgust, “you’re trying to steal from me. Again.”
Blair’s breath stopped .
“What? No, that’s not—”
“First you stole my first love,” Olivia snapped, her voice rising. “Now you want to steal this one too? Lucas? Really, Blair? You never learn.”
Blair flinched as the old wound sliced fresh, but Olivia wasn’t done.
“And by the way… I know exactly what you want.”
She pulled her hand out of her bag — a thick bundle of crisp dollar notes clenched between her fingers. She tossed it onto Blair’s small dining table like trash.
“There.”
Olivia’s voice dripped with arrogance.
“Money. Since that’s what you always come crawling for.”
Blair stared at the money, her throat tightening, shame burning her eyes.
Olivia stepped closer, her perfume sharp and expensive.
“Leave my man alone,” she said coldly. “Take your kid — wherever you got him from — and disappear. Far away.”
Blair’s nails dug into her palms.
Her heart pounded.
Her voice trembled as she finally forced words out:
“He’s not just… some kid, Olivia…”
But Olivia lifted a hand sharply.
“I don’t care,” she hissed. “Just stay away from Lucas Brooks. Or I’ll make sure you regret it.”