Chapter 2 She's Dead 2
You might be wondering why Olivia Smith was given a limousine for her attendance at an event.
The answer is, this was no ordinary gathering.
The Smiths had arranged for her to attend because of the family of four approaching them at that very moment.
At the forefront stood a tall, striking young man whose ocean-blue eyes gleamed beneath the chandelier’s glow. His lashes were long enough to shame any woman’s, his thick brows perfectly sculpted to frame his serious expression. When he did smile, on rare occasions, a pair of deep dimples appeared, charming enough to make any woman’s heart skip a beat.
But tonight, those soft, pink lips remained still and firm.
His name was Maximilian Walker, the youngest CEO in X City, freshly returned from abroad and already in charge of Walker Corporation.
He was also the reason Olivia was summoned here tonight.
And, unbeknownst to her and her parents, is the reason her uncle wanted her dead.
Max’s Armani suit hugged his tall, muscular frame like it was tailored by fate itself. His dark hair was slicked neatly back, highlighting the sharp, confident lines of his face.
Beside him walked his fifteen-year-old sister, Emily, her blonde hair tied in a loose bun that defied gravity, with a few wispy strands curling rebelliously around her face. Her pastel pink-and-blue gown shimmered under the lights as she clutched Max’s hand with childlike affection.
If you ever saw Max smile unexpectedly, Emily was the reason as she was his soft spot.
Their parents walked just ahead, both in their late fifties, their honey-blonde hair marking the family resemblance, leaving Max as the dark-haired outlier of the Walkers.
Emily’s eyes widened the instant she saw Olivia, awe lighting up her face as though she were looking at a living goddess.
Olivia Smith, the heiress everyone whispered about.
As the Walkers approached, Olivia’s parents rose at once, all smiles and warmth.
Max greeted them with his usual calm composure, earning their admiration in return. Emily followed with a graceful curtsy, her soft voice ringing clear.
“Greetings to you, Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”
“Greetings to you, my lovely,” the couple replied warmly, charmed by her sweetness.
Then came Olivia’s turn.
But Olivia was far too busy scrolling through her phone, a smug smile tugging at her lips as she read the endless compliments flooding her latest Instagram post about her limousine, of course.
After all, she’d just flaunted her new Tesla days ago; tonight’s limo was simply the sequel.
“Why are you stepping on my foot, Mommy?” she hissed under her breath when Laura Smith subtly nudged her.
Max’s jaw tightened. The longer he stood there, the thinner his patience grew. His parents, however, waited, expecting a proper greeting from Olivia.
“Olivia,” her father warned quietly, “greet the Walkers.”
“Oh!” Olivia finally looked up, feigning surprise. Her dark eyes swept lazily across the family before stopping on Emily, who was staring at her in admiration. Olivia smiled faintly and gave a little wave with her manicured fingers.
“Hi. Enjoy the event, Mr. and Mrs. Walker,” she said lightly, then flicked her gaze toward Max. “And you too, dude.”
Without missing a beat, she returned to her phone.
Mrs. Smith let out an awkward laugh. “I’m so sorry, she woke up in a bad mood today.”
The Walkers, out of politeness, laughed it off and prepared to move on with the pleasantries until Max’s low, cold voice cut through.
“Mom, can we go now?”
With strained smiles, Mrs. Walker gestured toward their table. “We’ll take our seats and catch up after the event.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Smith replied quickly, forcing a sweet tone. “We’ll introduce the children properly after the event.”
Once the Walkers were gone, Laura turned sharply to her daughter.
“Olivia! How could you greet people like that?”
“I didn’t come here to greet anyone,” Olivia said flatly. “Besides, I did say hi.”
At their table, Emily sighed dreamily. “She’s so beautiful.” she said with a bewitched tone.
Max scoffed. “And completely brainless.”
He couldn’t deny Olivia’s beauty. The way the light glided across her silky brown hair and porcelain skin, but her arrogance erased any charm she had.
And that dress? It was less an outfit and more a declaration of ‘I own this room.’
“She wasn’t in a good mood,” his mother murmured weakly.
Max took a sip of red wine, his tone sharp. “Then I suggest Emily avoids catching whatever sickness that is. I don’t need her turning into another spoiled brat.”
“Brother! Don’t be rude.” Emily laughed, tugging at his sleeve.
Max smirked faintly, patting her head. “Just telling the truth.”
His parents exchanged worried glances. Building a bond between their families wouldn’t be as simple as they’d hoped.
Across the room, Olivia basked in attention, posing subtly whenever she felt someone’s eye.
Her parents forced polite smiles, silently regretting her choice of attire for the night.
They had protested about it earlier but later gave in under her threat to head back to her room and sleep.
Shortly after, the host’s voice echoed through the grand hall: “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s begin tonight’s event with a dance! And what better pair to open it than our very own eligible bachelor Mr. Maximilian Walker and the stunning Miss Olivia Smith!”
A wave of applause followed.
Olivia’s smile froze. Her parents looked at her expectantly, almost pleadingly.
“Just one dance, darling,” her mother whispered.
“I can’t believe you’d do this to me, Mama!” she hissed, glaring at them.
Her father forced a nervous laugh. “We didn’t plan it, sweetheart, it just happened because you’re the most dashing angel here.”
Olivia groaned, rolling her eyes. But with hundreds of eyes on her, she finally stood, moving toward Max with the reluctant grace of a queen being forced into an audience.
Max, already standing at the center of the floor, had watched her parents coax her. When she finally approached, his expression was unreadable.
Up close, Olivia noticed how broad his shoulders were and how calm his breathing remained despite the watchful crowd.
He leaned closer, his voice brushing against her ear like silk laced with venom.
“Do me a favor. Let’s get this over with so I can see you get out of my line of sight.”
Her eyes widened, but before she could respond, his hand slid around her waist.
Their bodies aligned perfectly.
The orchestra began a slow elegant waltz that filled the air like liquid gold.
At first, Olivia resisted, her pride refusing to bend to his lead.
But Max was relentless, his movements smooth, commanding, every step a silent statement of control.
The scent of his cologne, dark amber and cedarwood, swirled around her, intoxicating.
Without realizing it, she began to move in sync with him. Her irritation faded, replaced by something foreign. Her heartbeat slowed, her expression softened.
For the first time, someone other than her parents was this close.
Their eyes met and he gazed down and she happened to look up at that same moment.
For a fleeting moment, time stilled.
The crowd blurred.
The music became distant.
She saw a flicker of something human beneath his cold exterior.
And he, despite himself, noticed the vulnerability hidden behind her pride.
The waltz slowed. Her fingers tightened on his shoulder.
He exhaled through his nose, a faint ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.
Maybe, he thought, she isn’t entirely hopeless.
But that tiny smile shattered the moment Olivia’s pride snapped back into place. “How about I stick my stilettos down your arse and get you out of my sight, huh?” she hissed, venomously sweet.
His jaw hardened instantly, irritation flashing in his eyes. Olivia took his silence as a challenge and began whispering sharp insults between steps, her tone like poisoned silk.
But then….
“Target locked,” a voice whispered through a headset in the shadowed rafters.
The sniper’s scope glinted faintly in the light.
“Kill her,” came the cold command.
Olivia’s lips parted to deliver another cutting remark.
Max’s hand pressed firmly against her waist, guiding her through a final, flawless spin, eager to end the torment.
Then
Swishhh.
The sound tore through the music.
Olivia’s body jerked. Her breath caught.
Max frowned, about to scold her for stumbling, until he felt something warm spill over his fingers.
Emily’s scream shattered the silence.
“BLOOD!”
Gasps erupted. Glass broke.
The orchestra stopped mid-note.
Max’s world blurred into chaos as Olivia slumped against him, her head falling back, eyes dimming like a candle in the wind.
He dropped to his knees, her limp body in his arms.
Her parents froze, faces drained of color. Mrs. Smith then collapsed, and Mr. Smith stood motionless, shattered.
Max pressed a trembling hand to her chest, right where the bullet had struck. The shot was clean. Precise. Fatal.
“She’s dead…” he whispered, disbelief clouding his voice.
But the words didn’t make sense. Not after the way she had just looked at him, alive, proud, untouchable.
Yet now, the heiress of the Smith Corporation lay lifeless in his arms, her final dance ended before the music did.