chapter 165
Olivia's POV:
I reached Tori and, without thinking, grasped her hand in both of mine.
"Thank you for coming," I said, my voice breaking slightly.
"Mrs. Sullivan," she replied, her tone carefully neutral.
"Olivia, please." I couldn't bring myself to release her hand, not yet. "Come, I've arranged a private room. We can talk more comfortably there."
I'd reserved a private dining room on the top floor, away from curious eyes and listening ears.
As we rode the elevator up, I studied her profile in the mirrored walls. The resemblance was undeniable now that I knew to look for it.
The dining room was intimate, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Moonhaven's skyline. I'd ordered her favorites—or what I'd learned were her favorites through discrete inquiries. Fresh salads, grilled salmon, the berry tart from the bakery near her school.
"Please, sit." I gestured to the chair across from mine.
The waiter poured water and wine—juice for Tori, I'd specified—then disappeared with practiced discretion.
As our meal arrived, I found myself unable to stop serving her—adding salmon to her plate, ensuring she had enough salad, refilling her juice glass before it emptied.
"You need to eat more, dear," I said gently, watching her pick at the food. "You're far too thin."
"Thank you, but really, I'm fine." She gently moved her plate back, a polite but firm gesture.
Her silver eyes met mine with quiet directness. "If there's something you want to say, please just say it."
The words were gentle, but they cut through my nervous fussing like a knife.
I set down the serving spoon, caught between admiration for her perceptiveness and shame at my own transparent anxiety.
I paused, the words I'd been holding back finally breaking free. "Tori... won't you reconsider? Won't you come home to Sullivan Pack?"
She set down her fork carefully, and I saw her defenses rise like a wall.
"Olivia." She drew a breath. "I appreciate what you're offering. I really do. But I can't accept."
"Why not?" The question came out more desperately than I intended. "You're William's daughter. You belong with us. The pack would welcome you, protect you—"
"I can't." Her voice remained gentle, but there was steel underneath. "I'm the living reminder of William's betrayal. The reason Susan's daughter died."
I opened my mouth to protest, but she continued, her words measured and thoughtful.
"Lucas has endured so much criticism because of me," she said quietly. "When we first got together, people called me a murderer. After my appeal succeeded and that label was removed, they started talking about my past with Ethan instead."
Her hand moved unconsciously to the mark on her neck—Lucas's claim. "He's stood by me through all of it. He's never complained, never asked me to hide or change. But I know what it costs him."
"Tori—"
"Being an 'illegitimate daughter' carries its own stigma," she continued, meeting my gaze directly. "Even if it's the Sullivan Pack's illegitimate daughter. In the eyes of high society, I'd still be... tainted. Especially given what Hannah did—what she took from William and Susan."
The truth of her words hit like a physical blow.
She was right, of course. The whispers would never stop. The judgment would follow her everywhere.
"I've already brought Lucas enough trouble," Tori said softly. "I won't add to it by dragging him into Sullivan Pack politics. I won't let my parentage become another weapon for people to use against him."
"But Tori," I leaned forward, desperate to make her understand, "if you joined Sullivan Pack officially, you could inherit the Sullivan Pack. Do you understand what that means? The power, the resources, the security it would give you and your child?"
She smiled then—a small, knowing smile that reminded me achingly of William at his most stubborn.
"What belongs to me, I won't be shy about claiming. But what isn't mine, I won't reach for."
I stared at her, seeing the finality in those silver eyes. She truly believed the Sullivan legacy wasn't hers to take.
The contrast struck me with unexpected force.
Charlotte, whenever inheritance was mentioned, would lean forward with barely concealed hunger in her eyes. She'd speak of "securing the family's future" and "maintaining Sullivan Pack's position," but underneath the diplomatic words was raw, burning ambition.
I'd always told myself that ambition was good—that Charlotte's drive would make her a strong leader.
But now, looking at Tori's quiet dignity, I wondered if Charlotte lacked something essential—a certain kindness, perhaps.
Please, I found myself thinking, almost like a prayer. When Charlotte learns the truth, let her be kind. Let her see Tori as family, not as a threat.
"You're stubborn," I said finally, my voice thick with emotion. "Just like William."
I released a long breath, letting go of the dreams I'd been harboring.
"All right then. I won't push. As long as you're happy, that's what matters."
Tori's hand moved to her stomach in that unconscious protective gesture I'd noticed earlier. "Right now, my biggest wish is just to carry this baby safely and give Lucas the family he deserves."
The words took a moment to register. Then—
"You're pregnant?" The question came out as barely more than a whisper.
She nodded, a soft smile touching her lips. "Ten weeks."
Joy exploded in my chest, so sudden and overwhelming that tears sprang to my eyes. "Oh, Tori. Oh, my dear girl."
I reached across the table, covering both her hands with mine. "Then that settles it. You need to focus on your health, on the baby. Everything else—Sullivan Pack, official recognition, all of it—can wait."
"Olivia—"
"No, I mean it." I squeezed her hands gently. "You're carrying my great-grandchild. Nothing is more important than ensuring you both stay healthy and safe. The rest... the rest doesn't matter."
Her eyes glistened. "Thank you for understanding."
"Thank you for telling me." I blinked back my own tears. "And Tori? If you need anything—anything at all—you call me. Promise me."
"I promise," she said softly.