Chapter 3

Olivia gestured subtly, indicating last night hadn't been during her ovulation window. A shadow of disappointment crossed Liam's piercing blue eyes as he murmured, "I see you've been keeping track."

She missed the fleeting emotion, assuming his disinterest in fatherhood extended beyond their contractual marriage. Turning toward the window, Olivia absently traced patterns on the glass as Manhattan's skyline blurred past.

"Would you prefer shopping on Fifth Avenue? Or perhaps a private spa session at Blanc de Noir? I can have Victoria accompany you," Liam offered, his deep voice cutting through the luxury sedan's silence.

Olivia shook her head, signing rapidly that her design studio awaited her attention.

Liam adjusted his platinum cufflinks. "You're the creative director, not a slave to the company. As Mrs. Blackwood, your only duty is enjoying the lifestyle I provide." His gaze dropped to the diamond bracelet encircling her wrist - last month's anniversary gift.

Materially, Liam was the perfect husband. A penthouse on Central Park West. A black AmEx with no spending limit. Staff to handle every domestic chore. Yet Olivia's heart ached for the boy who'd once whispered promises of forever against her skin when they were seventeen.

The sudden halt of the Mercedes jerked Olivia from her memories. A sharp rapping on the tinted window startled her.

The descending glass revealed Evelyn Hartley's tear-streaked face, her normally flawless makeup ruined by swollen, bloodshot eyes. The sight twisted something painful in Olivia's chest.

"Three days!" Evelyn choked out before Olivia could react. Her manicured fingers gripped the window frame like a lifeline. "I waited at the penthouse, called your office, even checked the usual restaurants. Then your assistant mentioned the hundred-day celebration for your nephew..." Her voice broke. "Are you punishing me? Is that why you're hiding behind your... wife?"

The unspoken insult hung in the air like poison. Olivia stiffened, her hands curling into fists in her lap.

Liam's expression remained impassive, though his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "Do you understand why I'm angry?"

Evelyn's pout was practiced perfection. "If you want an apology, darling, at least let me in from the cold. How can I properly beg forgiveness out here?"

Her emerald eyes flicked meaningfully toward Olivia's seat.

After a weighted pause, Liam turned to Olivia. "Your studio is just ahead. Don't you have that fabric shipment arriving?"

In truth, they were still blocks from Sinclair Designs. Normally Liam insisted on door-to-door service. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Olivia gathered her purse and stepped into the autumn chill without protest.

Evelyn made a show of extracting antibacterial wipes from her Birkin, meticulously sanitizing the leather seat before sliding in. The implication was clear - she considered Olivia's presence contaminating.

Liam's brow furrowed. "What's this about?"

"You know I have OCD," Evelyn sniffed, pressing a hand to her chest. "We had an agreement - front seat privileges when you drive, backseat exclusivity when your driver's behind the wheel." Her gaze slid triumphantly to where Olivia stood frozen on the sidewalk. "Unless you've changed the rules without telling me?"

The barb found its mark. Olivia turned sharply, heels clicking against pavement as she hurried toward her studio's awning.

Through the rearview mirror, Liam watched Olivia's retreat, guilt gnawing at him. When Evelyn tried to embrace him, he stiff-armed her away.

"Please," Evelyn whispered, clinging like ivy. "I'll behave. No more ultimatums about the divorce. Just forgive me." A single tear tracked down her cheek - a calculated masterpiece of vulnerability.

Liam sighed, his resistance crumbling as he cupped her delicate jaw. "Last chance, Evie. Be good, and you'll want for nothing." His thumb brushed away her tear. "Except my last name."

The engine purred to life as Olivia disappeared around the corner, her silhouette swallowed by the morning crowd.