Chapter 200

The sky cracked open without warning, unleashing a torrential downpour that hammered against the windows.

Olivia stood motionless by the glass, her fingers tracing the cold surface as she watched the rain blur the world outside.

Her gaze drifted to the grand piano nestled beside the window—an instrument she hadn't touched in years.

Memories surged forward unbidden, each one tied to the man who had once taught her to play—Liam Blackwood.

Liam had been a prodigy, effortlessly mastering anything he set his mind to.

Even his hobbies became obsessions, pursued with the same intensity as his professional endeavors.

The piano had been one such passion.

But Margaret Winslow, his mother, had despised it, calling it a frivolous waste of time. She had smashed every piano he brought home in fits of rage.

So Liam had sought refuge at his grandfather’s estate, where he could play undisturbed.

Olivia had watched him, mesmerized. When he wasn’t around, she had tried to teach herself, fumbling through clumsy notes until his amused voice cut through her concentration.

Despite his teasing, he had sat beside her, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the keys.

Eventually, he had offered to teach her—on one condition: she had to cover for him when needed.

Truthfully, Olivia had never cared for the piano.

Her only interest had been Liam.

Now, standing before the instrument, she cringed at the memory of her teenage infatuation. How foolish she had been.

Her fingers hovered over the keys before pressing down, coaxing out a melody she hadn’t played in years.

Rusty but recognizable, the notes filled the room—the same song Liam had always played on rainy days.

The music intertwined with the storm outside, her sorrow bleeding into the rhythm.

But she couldn’t remember the rest. The abrupt silence snapped her back to reality.

Then, through the rain-streaked glass, she saw him.

A man in a hospital gown, sitting beneath a tree in the garden, drenched and unmoving.

Her pulse spiked. Sebastian Montgomery’s warning echoed in her mind.

Liam.

How had he found her so quickly?

She had assumed he would start with the Whitmores, that William and Alexander would delay him. But here he was, outside her door.

Heart pounding, she cracked the window open, ignoring the rain that lashed at her face.

There was no mistaking that face—sharp, striking, and unnervingly pale.

Liam looked up, spotting her instantly. His hand lifted, beckoning her down.

Olivia’s grip tightened on the windowsill.

He wasn’t leaving.

If she didn’t go to him, he would stay there, stubborn as always.

She exhaled sharply, then slammed the window shut.

Her phone was dead. Calling Sebastian was pointless anyway—if he could have stopped Liam, he wouldn’t have warned her in the first place.

She weighed her options.

Liam’s face was too recognizable. It was only a matter of time before someone saw him. And Evelyn Hartley would definitely use this to stir trouble.

Olivia hesitated, then glanced outside again.

Liam swayed slightly, his body trembling in the cold. She had never seen him look so… fragile.

Decision made, she grabbed an umbrella and rushed out.

The rain soaked her within seconds. Liam was heavier than she expected, his weight nearly buckling her knees.

She gritted her teeth, forcing herself forward.

Careful. The baby.

Inside, she shoved him onto the sofa, then pointed firmly at her stomach, her expression sharp.

Liam, stop this. I don’t care about you and Evelyn. And I’m pregnant—this is harassment.

His dazed eyes cleared instantly.

Then, without warning, he surged forward, closing the distance between them.

Olivia stumbled back until the wall stopped her.

Before she could sign, he grabbed her wrist, silencing her.

His voice was rough. "Tell me the truth, Olivia. Whose child is this?"

The question struck like a slap.

Her breath caught.

Disbelief. Anger. Hurt.

She had known he resented the pregnancy—but to deny it was his?

She wrenched free and struck him.

The sound echoed in the room.

Liam didn’t react with anger. Instead, his lips curved—just slightly.

Then his expression crumpled.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, pulling her into a crushing embrace. "I was wrong. I misunderstood everything."

Olivia stiffened.

Misunderstood?

What did that mean?

She had sworn to keep her distance, but now…

Before she could process it, Liam’s body went slack.

He collapsed.

Olivia barely caught him, her heart hammering.

She shot Sebastian a frantic message, then dragged Liam to the bedroom, her abdomen aching with the strain.

By the time she got him onto the bed, she was drenched in sweat.

Gasping, she sank beside him.

Even unconscious, his lips moved, murmuring something.

Curious, she leaned closer.

And froze.

The name on his lips—

Was hers.