Chapter 73

"Victoria, what are you doing here?" Alexander's voice sliced through the tension as he unexpectedly appeared in Olivia's office.

He carried a thick stack of files, likely there for a business delivery, but his expression darkened the moment he spotted Victoria. "Who authorized your presence here?"

"I-I just wanted to inspect—" Victoria's earlier confidence evaporated under Alexander's piercing gaze, replaced by sudden timidity.

"Inspect what? You hold no position in Whitmore Holdings. There's nothing here for you to inspect." Alexander's contempt dripped from every clipped word.

"How can you say that? I'm a Whitmore too—" Victoria protested weakly.

"Being a Whitmore grants you no privileges here. You own zero shares in this company, and your interference won't be tolerated. I've overlooked it before, but next time, I'll bring Grandfather into this."

Victoria paled at the mention of William Whitmore, recalling how he'd publicly humiliated her at the last gala without a second thought for appearances.

"Alexander, I merely came to see Olivia," Victoria attempted to explain before adding with false sweetness, "Besides, Abigail—Olivia's sister-in-law's niece—is preparing to become your bride—"

Before she could finish, Alexander interrupted sharply. "Who told you Abigail and I are marrying? I've made my refusal clear to Grandfather. Where are you getting these absurd rumors?"

Victoria flushed crimson.

"Leave. Now." Alexander's patience had clearly expired. "Or shall I have security remove you?"

Faced with the prospect of being dragged from her family's company, Victoria muttered, "Fine, I'm going!"

The moment she disappeared, Alexander turned to Olivia with unexpected intensity. "I have no intention of marrying Abigail."

Olivia blinked in surprise, uncertain why he felt compelled to share this with her. Still, she offered a gentle smile and signed, "My marriage was a mistake. If you marry, let it be for love, not obligation."

Realizing Alexander couldn't understand sign language, Olivia quickly typed the message into her phone.

Neither noticed the discreet phone recording their entire exchange from the hallway.

Later that afternoon, as Olivia exited Whitmore Holdings, she spotted a familiar Rolls-Royce idling nearby. Liam's car.

Olivia hesitated, considering retreating back inside, but the car door swung open before she could move.

"You see me and your first instinct is to run?" Liam's voice carried an edge she hadn't heard in weeks.

Reluctantly, Olivia approached.

"Why haven't you returned home?" Liam demanded, his grip tightening around her wrist.

Since returning from Westhaven with Isabella, they'd checked into a hotel near the airport and Olivia had gone straight to work the next morning, avoiding the Blackwood estate entirely. She'd assumed Liam would be too preoccupied comforting Evelyn after her failed sabotage attempt to notice Olivia's absence.

Yet here he stood, personally collecting her from work.

Olivia pulled her hand free with deliberate slowness.

Liam's demeanor shifted instantly, frustration rolling off him in waves. He seemed torn between forcing her into the car and maintaining appearances before Whitmore Holdings employees.

"What game are you playing?" His gaze burned into her.

Olivia signed firmly, reminding him she'd already made her stance on divorce clear.

A spark of anger flashed in Liam's eyes. "You think mentioning divorce means you can abandon our home? I never agreed to that! You're coming with me now!"

Olivia instinctively stepped back.

In the past, such fury from Liam would have sent her scrambling to appease him. Normally, the slightest frown had her rushing to smooth things over.

But today was different. Despite his visible rage, Olivia held her ground, signing firmly that she'd only return if he promised not to lay a hand on her. Otherwise, she'd never set foot in that house again.

Liam's anger simmered, each passing second testing Olivia's resolve.

Defying Liam felt foreign, terrifying. But she couldn't continue like this. For her child's sake, she needed to break free from this toxic cycle.

After an eternity of tension, Liam relented. "Fine. Have it your way. Get in."

With his begrudging assurance, Olivia entered the car. She'd expected a chauffeur, but Liam himself took the wheel.

Buckling up, Olivia stared resolutely ahead, preferring silence to conversation. The last time she'd sat in this car, Evelyn had made a show of sanitizing the seat afterward, as if Olivia carried some contagion.

"Mother's birthday is in three days," Liam announced as the engine purred to life. "Keep the peace until then. We'll discuss everything after."

The mention of Margaret's birthday sent ice through Olivia's veins. Those were memories she'd rather forget. While Liam merely had to make a fashionable entrance at the party, Olivia had been forced to arrive a week early each year—scrubbing silverware, polishing floors, enduring Margaret's cruel whims.

This year would be different.

Unable to sign while Liam drove, Olivia typed a message and let her phone's voice assistant declare: "I won't be assisting with the birthday preparations. Hire staff if needed."

Liam shot her a startled glance. "What's this about? Since when do we need extra staff for Mother's party?"

Olivia met his gaze squarely as her phone continued: "Am I not treated as staff? Cleaning, taking out trash, washing dishes—I do the work no servant would tolerate."

Liam's expression darkened. He abruptly pulled the car onto the shoulder, turning to face her with urgent intensity. "Explain yourself. Now."