Chapter 136

Olivia and Liam reached Mercy Hospital in record time, where the attending physician swiftly tended to Olivia's wound.

Though the gash looked alarming, it turned out to be nothing more than a shallow cut—the kind a child might inflict with weak, uncoordinated swings.

Throughout the procedure, Olivia clenched her jaw, her face pinched with discomfort. Pain had always been her weakness.

Nearby, Liam stood with his arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on the doctor's every move. He waited until the physician finished before stepping forward to discuss aftercare.

Once alone, Liam approached Olivia. His dark eyes burned with an intensity that made her pulse stutter.

"I never expected you to go this far for the Whitmores," he said, his voice low. "Especially for Alexander."

Olivia caught the edge in his tone but refused to meet his eyes. She signed quickly, dismissing his assumption. She owed William kindness—he had treated her well. Solving this mess was the least she could do.

Liam's jaw tightened. For a moment, it seemed he might say something more, but he swallowed the words.

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Finally, Olivia rose, testing her weight on her injured leg. The pain had dulled to a manageable throb. She turned to Liam and signed her thanks, though she still didn’t understand why he had intervened.

Then she pointed toward the door. It was time to leave.

Just as she turned, Liam's hand shot out, gripping her shoulder. His voice was rough with emotion. "Olivia, this might be your last chance. Don’t you have anything to say to me?"

She froze. A storm of emotions raged inside her—regret, longing, resignation. But what was left to say?

For a fleeting moment, she had considered staying. Maybe, given time, she could carve out a place in his heart.

But reality crushed that fragile hope. She could wait—but the life growing inside her couldn’t.

And after everything, she refused to be dependent on Liam’s fleeting mercy. She wouldn’t let her child’s future hang on his whims.

Steeling herself, Olivia signed firmly: If you and Evelyn ever marry, don’t bother sending an invitation.

Liam’s expression darkened. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by icy detachment. "Fine. Then let’s not drag this out. The divorce papers will be ready tomorrow. Two o’clock at city hall. Don’t be late."

Olivia nodded. As Liam strode away, his broad shoulders rigid, an unexpected ache bloomed in her chest. She had thought she’d feel relief. Instead, she felt like part of her had been ripped away.

Clutching her shirt over her heart, she hurried to the restroom. In the mirror, her reflection stared back—pale, shaken, with tears she hadn’t realized were falling.

Meanwhile, Liam stormed to his car, his mood black.

Sebastian caught up just as Liam wrenched the door open. Glancing past him, Sebastian frowned. "Shouldn’t we wait for Ms. Sinclair?"

Liam slammed the door. "Drive."

Sebastian hesitated. "But—"

"I said drive," Liam snapped. "She’s not my concern anymore."

Sebastian swallowed his protest and started the engine.

After a tense silence, he asked, "Where to, sir?"

Liam drummed his fingers on his knee. Then a slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. "How is Evelyn faring at the estate?"

Sebastian hesitated. "Not well, per your instructions."

"Good." Liam leaned back. "Bring her back."

Sebastian’s grip tightened on the wheel, but he didn’t dare argue.

Later, Olivia shared the good news with Alexander.

His shock was palpable. "I never thought you’d go to Liam for help, not after everything. Grandpa always said not to trouble you, but I—"

Olivia cut him off with a reassuring text: You’ve done so much for me. This was nothing. Even if you hadn’t told me, I’d have found out. William is like family. Just focus on his recovery—don’t mention any of this to him.

Alexander exhaled in relief. Then, hesitantly, he asked, "Are you free tonight? Let me treat you to dinner. I owe you."

Olivia agreed. She needed to discuss her future at Whitmore Holdings.

With the divorce looming, she wouldn’t stay in the city. She and her baby needed a fresh start—somewhere safe, far from the chaos. Maybe one day, she’d return.

After finalizing plans, Olivia headed to the prenatal clinic.

Handing over her test results, she held her breath.

The doctor smiled. "Your health has improved, though you’re still fragile. Keep following the regimen. Your baby’s well-being depends on it."

Olivia’s shoulders relaxed. She cradled her stomach and typed: Is the baby okay?

The doctor shook his head. "It’s too early to tell. Regular check-ups are crucial. For now, focus on staying healthy." He scribbled a prescription. "Start these vitamins."

Olivia nodded. As she turned to leave, she collided with someone entering the clinic. Her papers scattered.

Before she could react, a familiar voice rang out. "Olivia?"

Her blood ran cold.

Julian Hawthorne stood before her, his mother Eleanor at his side.

"Sorry," Julian said smoothly. "We were in a hurry for Mother’s appointment. Are you alright?"

Olivia forced a smile and shook her head, clutching the papers tighter behind her back.

Julian’s gaze dropped to her concealed hands. "Let me help you with your prescription. You look unwell—if you need specialists, I can recommend some."

Olivia’s fingers trembled. She took a step back, her heart pounding.

This was trouble.