Chapter 43 Who It Was?
Olive was already near their street when her legs began to shake again.
It came suddenly—like her body remembered something her mind was still trying to push away. Her steps slowed, then faltered, until she had to stop altogether just to keep herself upright.
She had seen gunshots. She had seen blood. She had watched men die right in front of her.
But this—this was different.
On the bus, she had been alone.
No Leo. No guards. No protection.
Just ordinary people sitting inches away from her—students, workers, tired strangers staring at their phones—completely unaware that a gun had been pressed against her side. No one noticed the way her body had stiffened. No one noticed the way her breath had caught.
One pull of a trigger and she would have been gone.
Her chest tightened painfully as the words echoed again and again in her head, refusing to fade.
Marry Vescari or you and your family die.
Fear crawled slowly up her spine, cold and deliberate.
Olive stood there, frozen, unable to keep walking. Her hands came up to her face as she wiped sweat from her temples and brushed at tears she didn’t remember crying. Her breathing was shallow, uneven.
“What am I supposed to do?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Her mind raced, grasping at answers that refused to come.
Who was that man?
Why would someone threaten her into marrying Leo?
Was he one of Leo’s men?
The thought made her stomach twist—but it didn’t fit. It didn’t match what she knew.
Leo had never forced her. Not once. When he asked her to marry him, there was no threat in his eyes, no pressure in his voice. He had been calm. Certain. He had even said he could wait.
So why this?
Why now?
Her thoughts spiraled so fast she didn’t even realize where she was standing until—
A loud horn blared.
“Hey! Move! Is this street yours?!”
Olive gasped and jumped aside just as a car swerved past her, missing her by inches. The driver leaned out the window, shouting angrily before speeding away.
Her heart slammed violently against her ribs, pain blooming in her chest as adrenaline surged through her.
Shaken, Olive turned her head—
And froze.
Not far from where she stood, under the dim glow of a flickering streetlight, was a man.
The same hoodie. The same still posture. The same eyes fixed on her.
The man from the bus.
Her breath caught sharply in her throat.
He hadn’t gotten off at her stop.
Which meant—
He followed her.
Panic flooded her system, drowning out every rational thought. She didn’t think. She didn’t plan.
She ran.
Her feet hit the pavement hard as she sprinted down the empty street, the sound of her own breathing thunderous in her ears. Each step felt unsteady, like the ground might give way beneath her. The houses blurred past her vision.
No open stores. No people. No doors she could knock on.
The street felt endless.
When she finally reached their gate and slammed it shut behind her, relief crashed over her so violently her knees nearly gave out. She leaned her full weight against the cold metal, gasping for air, sweat dripping down her forehead and into her eyes.
Her heart refused to slow.
Forcing herself to move, Olive peeked through the bars of the gate.
Nothing.
No man. No shadow. No movement.
The street was empty.
“Olive?”
The sudden voice made her flinch so hard she let out a small gasp.
She spun around.
Her mother stood at the front door, brows drawn together in confusion and concern. “What are you doing out there?” Celeste asked. “You look like you were being chased. Are you okay?”
Olive swallowed hard, forcing her panic down.
She crossed the yard quickly and gently took her mother by the arm, guiding her inside while glancing back one last time at the street. “I’m fine,” she said, pushing steadiness into her voice. “I was just tired.”
Once the door closed, the house felt smaller. Quieter.
Celeste studied her face for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t push. Instead, she spoke again, almost casually. “Oh—someone delivered a letter for you earlier. I put it in your room.”
A chill slid down Olive’s spine.
“A letter?” she asked, her stomach tightening.
“Yes. An envelope. It only had your name on it,” Celeste said. “I didn’t open it.”
Olive nodded quickly and headed to her room.
The moment she stepped inside, she saw it.
A white envelope.
Neatly placed on her desk, as if it belonged there.
Her name printed clearly on the front.
Her fingers trembled as she picked it up. The paper felt too light, too ordinary—for something that made her chest ache.
Then a sudden thought struck her.
She rushed back out into the hallway. “Mom,” she said quickly, holding the envelope tight, “please don’t open the gate tonight if anyone knocks.”
Celeste and Chris exchanged a glance.
“Who would knock at this hour?” Chris joked weakly. “Another debtor?”
“Chris,” Celeste scolded, then turned back to Olive. “Alright. We won’t.”
Olive nodded and returned to her room, closing the door behind her. The lock clicked softly.
Her heart thumped as she slowly opened the envelope.
There was no sender’s name. No address.
Just a single piece of paper.
She unfolded it.
Her breath left her lungs.
Marry Vescari or you and your family die.
Her hands flew to her mouth as a silent gasp tore through her chest.
Then her eyes dropped to the next line.
Don’t tell Vescari any of this—or he will die too.
Olive’s eyes widened in horror. Her whole body went cold as she covered her mouth, a scream trapped in her throat.
This wasn’t Leo.
So then—
Who was?