Chapter 91

Chapter 91
Olivia's POV

The sound of soft humming filled the kitchen as I stood by the stove, flipping pancakes and sneaking glances at Zoya, who sat on the counter, watching me with a sleepy, content smile.

“You know,” she said, swinging her legs lightly, “I could get used to this.”

I smirked, pouring more batter into the pan. “Don’t get used to it too much. I don’t usually cook.”

She grinned, biting her lip. “I won’t hold you to it. But I could.”

I felt warmth bloom in my chest at the way she was looking at me, like I was something more than a fleeting moment—something real. And for once, I let myself believe it.

Just as I was plating the pancakes, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” Zoya said, hopping off the counter and padding barefoot to the door.

I listened as she unlocked it, expecting maybe a delivery or a neighbor—but what I heard instead was the sound of a door being shoved open and a familiar voice cutting through the quiet morning.

“Do you ever answer your phone, Zoya?”

Sebastian.

I barely had time to process it before he pushed past her into the apartment, talking a mile a minute. “Seriously, I’ve been texting you all morning! Did you see that article about—”

His words came to an abrupt halt when his eyes landed on me, standing awkwardly in the kitchen, wearing Zoya’s oversized t-shirt and probably looking every bit as guilty as I felt.

His eyes flicked between us, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh.”

Zoya groaned, rubbing her forehead. “Seb, you have zero boundaries.”

He grinned, ignoring her and striding into the kitchen. “Good morning, Olivia.” His tone was teasing, but there was genuine warmth behind it. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

I forced a smile, feeling a blush creep up my neck. “Morning, Sebastian.”

Zoya crossed her arms, leaning against the door. “Please, don’t make this weird.”

Sebastian held up his hands in mock innocence. “Weird? Who’s making it weird? I’m just... pleasantly surprised.” He glanced between us again, his grin widening. “Finally.”

Zoya rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself.

I tried to laugh it off, but something gnawed at the edges of my thoughts. Sebastian’s reaction was supportive—almost too supportive. He seemed happy, like he had been waiting for this moment.

And suddenly, the paranoia crept in.

What if it was him?

My stomach tightened as I looked at him, his easygoing smile, the way he always seemed to be around when things happened. He knew both of us well, and if anyone had access to our lives, to our secrets... it was him.

Could it be Sebastian behind the rumors?

I shook the thought away, forcing myself to focus as Zoya nudged Sebastian toward the couch. “Sit down, shut up, and I’ll get you some coffee.”

He plopped onto the couch, stretching his legs out. “You know me so well.”

I turned back to the counter, my mind still racing despite the light atmosphere.

I didn’t want to believe it.

But with everything that had happened, I couldn’t afford not to wonder.

Zoya came back into the kitchen, shaking her head. “He’s a menace.”

I forced a smile. “Yeah... but he means well.”

She gave me a look, sensing something was off, but I quickly turned back to the pancakes, busying myself with the plates.

Zoya leaned in, resting her chin on my shoulder. “Hey... don’t overthink it. It’s just Sebastian being Sebastian.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t sure if I believed it.

Because right now, I didn’t know who to trust anymore.

“I should go home and change before heading to set,” I said, adjusting the strap of my bag over my shoulder, trying to sound casual.

Zoya stood by the doorway, her arms loosely crossed, but the look in her eyes told me everything she wasn’t saying. There was hesitation, a quiet plea buried beneath her tough exterior.

“You’re coming back, right?” she asked, her voice softer than usual, almost hesitant.

My heart clenched at the question.

I sighed, stepping closer and taking her hand in mine, squeezing it gently. “I’ll see you on set,” I reassured her, offering a small smile. “And then... we’ll come home together, okay?”

Zoya studied me for a moment, like she was searching for any sign of doubt in my words. “Promise?”

I nodded without hesitation. “Promise.”

She exhaled slowly, her fingers lingering against mine before she finally let go. “Alright,” she murmured, but I could still see the uncertainty lingering in her gaze.

I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, whispering, “We’re okay.”

With one last look, I turned and walked out, the weight of her unspoken fears settling in my chest.

The apartment felt eerily quiet when I stepped inside, the familiar scent of coffee drifting through the air.

I wasn’t alone.

Ava stood by the kitchen counter, stirring a cup absentmindedly, her expression unreadable as she glanced over at me. “Morning,” she said, as if this were just another ordinary day.

I swallowed hard, bracing myself for the inevitable confrontation. “Hey,” I replied, keeping my voice even, though my heart was racing.

Ava leaned against the counter, studying me for a moment before speaking again. “Elijah told me everything.”

My stomach dropped.

I waited for the accusations, the disappointment, the usual Ava-style interrogation that would have me standing defensively, explaining myself. But instead, she sighed, rubbing her temple.

“You know,” she continued, her tone almost too calm, “maybe it’s for the best that you two decided to end it.”

I blinked, thrown off by the unexpected words. “What?”

Ava took a slow sip of her coffee, her gaze steady. “You and Elijah... you're destroying each other. This back and forth, all the hurt—what’s the point?” She shrugged, like she wasn’t standing here talking about my marriage, my entire life falling apart. “Maybe it’s time to stop trying.”

I felt the ground shift beneath me, her words cutting deeper than I expected. I had braced for anger, for judgment, but this? This quiet acceptance? It didn’t make sense.

Her voice softened slightly. “Honestly, Liv, it’s exhausting to watch.”

I swallowed hard, nodding slowly. “I... I guess you’re right.”

As I placed my bag down, my eyes drifted to the counter where her phone sat, face down. And suddenly, a thought crept into my mind.

The message on the picture Elijah received.

My heart pounded against my ribcage. Could it be Ava?

I looked at her, really looked at her—how calm she was, how easily she seemed to accept everything crumbling around me.

Had she wanted this all along?

Ava sighed, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You should go get ready. You’ve got a long day ahead.”

I forced a nod, my mind spinning. “Yeah. You’re right.”

I turned toward my room, my thoughts racing.

Could Ava be behind the rumors?

The notes, the perfectly timed leaks, the eerie calmness she had about the entire situation... it all felt too convenient.

And now, I wasn’t sure who to trust anymore.

I stepped onto the set, the familiar buzz of crew members moving around, adjusting lights, and setting up scenes filling the air. But none of it settled the unease churning inside me.

I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering weight of my conversation with Ava, but it clung to me like a second skin. My eyes scanned the room instinctively, searching for something—or rather, someone—to ground me.

Instead, I found something else.

At the far end of the lot, near one of the soundproof dressing rooms, I spotted Anthony and Ezra, their body language tense, their voices low but sharp enough to slice through the usual noise of the set. They hadn't seen me yet, so I slowed my steps, keeping a careful distance.

Anthony’s voice was the first to cut through. “I know what you’re trying to do, Ezra. And I won’t let you.”

Ezra stood rigid, his hands clenched at his sides. “Stay out of my way, Anthony,” he warned, his voice dangerously low. “Or I’ll end your acting career before you even know what hit you.”

My heart pounded in my chest. What the hell was going on?

Anthony scoffed, his tone dripping with defiance. “You think you can scare me? You’re not the only one who knows how to play dirty, Ezra.”

I felt frozen in place, unsure whether to stay and listen or turn back. But before I could decide, Ezra stepped closer to Anthony, their faces mere inches apart.

“I mean it,” Ezra said, his voice steel-cold. “Stay out of this, or I’ll make sure everyone sees you for what you really are.”

Anthony’s jaw tensed, his lips curling in a sneer. “I won’t let you ruin everything I’ve built.”

I took a shaky step back, my pulse racing. I didn’t need to hear more. Whatever this was about, it was ugly, and I had no desire to be caught in the middle of it.

I turned quickly, slipping away before they could see me. My heart hammered against my ribs as I weaved through the bustling set, my mind racing with questions.

What was Ezra trying to do? What was Anthony so desperate to stop?

I didn’t know, and honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Right now, I needed something—someone—who could make sense of everything spiraling around me.

Zoya.

I found her by the makeup station, flipping through her script, oblivious to the chaos in my mind. The moment I saw her, something inside me loosened, and without a second thought, I walked straight up to her.

She looked up, surprised. “Hey, you okay?”

I didn’t answer. I just wrapped my arms around her, resting my head against her shoulder, and exhaled a shaky breath.

Zoya hesitated for a second before she hugged me back, her arms tightening around me like she knew I needed it. “What happened?” she asked softly.

“I just... I needed to see you,” I whispered, closing my eyes, letting myself have this moment, if only for a second.

And for now, that was enough.