Chapter 427

"Did Olivia tell you I took her to Midnight? That's absolute nonsense! I can't stand her presence, but I wasn't trying to create trouble for you. She kept obsessing about you, so I just let her go. I didn't care enough to stop her. I wasn't the one who dragged her there."

Liam's hands clenched into fists. Every muscle in his body tensed with the urge to punch Oliver right between his smug eyes.

"You might not have physically forced her," Liam growled, his voice dangerously low, "but you gave her directions and didn't even assign someone to protect her! What if she'd been hurt? She's barely recovered. How was she supposed to navigate there alone? She could hardly form coherent sentences last week."

"Bullshit!" Oliver snapped back, his face flushing red. "I've been monitoring her recovery closely since she returned. The drugs may have affected her mind, but her speech is perfectly functional. How else would I know she was searching for you, huh?" Oliver scoffed, crossing his arms. "She pretends not to hear anyone but you. It's all an act. Her selective hearing drives me insane."

Sebastian and Liam exchanged startled glances.

"Wait. Are you saying she's regained cognitive function?" Sebastian interrupted sharply.

"Damn right she has!" Oliver practically shouted. "She's not fully recovered yet, still a bit spacey, but she's far from the zombie-like state she was in days ago."

Liam had heard enough. Without another word, he turned sharply and strode from the study.

Sebastian started to follow but paused, turning back to face the defiant Oliver. "I'm telling you the truth. It was me who uncovered your involvement. Olivia was nearly assaulted at that club. If we hadn't found her in time—" He let the ominous implication hang in the air.

Taking a measured breath, Sebastian continued, "You've served Liam for years. Haven't you realized by now that he has zero romantic interest in Miss Sinclair? He's merely honoring Mr. Jack's dying wish. If you truly care about her wellbeing, stop forcing this connection. On the drive back, I asked Olivia why she came. She remained completely silent. I genuinely thought she'd lost her voice."

Oliver listened, his expression shifting from defiance to confusion, then finally to resignation. A mixture of frustration and sorrow colored his voice as he whispered, "Sebastian, I don't want to leave Liam's service. I want to stay by his side. The man's a genius. I could learn so much from him."

Sebastian shook his head, his features hardening into an unyielding mask. "I warned you before that Olivia is Liam's only non-negotiable boundary. Your flight's arranged. I'm sending you back to Valtierra tonight. Stay with Miss Sinclair and make sure Mr. Blackwood never sees your face again."

Tears welled in Oliver's eyes, but he blinked them away and gave a stiff nod.

Meanwhile, Liam found Olivia in her sunlit chambers, absorbed in reading while wearing a delicate nightgown. Golden sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting an ethereal glow around her. She looked like a Renaissance painting come to life—regal, untouchable, and breathtakingly beautiful. There was an almost divine quality to her stillness that made one hesitate to interrupt.

Liam slowed his approach, drawn to her like a moth to flame. "Reading in direct sunlight will strain your eyes," he murmured softly. "Shall we move to the rose garden?"

His tone was gentle, the way one might speak to a frightened child. Olivia didn't verbally respond, merely shaking the leather-bound volume in her hands.

Curiosity piqued, Liam moved closer and recognized it as a diary, its cracked spine and yellowed pages suggesting it was at least fifteen years old.

As Liam carefully opened the fragile pages, revealing elegant feminine script, he worried his facial scars might unsettle her. With deliberate slowness, he removed his mask.

While Liam was engrossed in deciphering the faded handwriting, he felt the lightest touch against his cheek. Olivia's fingertips were tracing the jagged scars along his jawline with unexpected tenderness.