Chapter 83

The sun was just beginning to set when Olivia received the unexpected call. William had promised to notify her when the Newport estate was ready, but she'd anticipated weeks of preparation - not mere hours.

The weight of the keys pressed into her palm as Liam's piercing gaze burned into her. She hesitated, but William's firm grip closed her fingers around the metal.

"Consider this my promise," William declared, his words carrying a clear challenge to Liam. "You'll always have my protection."

Liam's jaw tightened visibly, his knuckles whitening around the steering wheel. "She needs no one's protection but mine," he countered through clenched teeth.

The tension hung thick in the air until William finally stepped back with a satisfied nod.

Once inside the car, Liam drove in silence for exactly seventeen minutes before abruptly pulling onto the shoulder. Olivia's pulse quickened as she felt his intense stare.

"What exactly does William know?" The question came out sharper than intended. "Did you tell him?"

Olivia bit her lip. She couldn't admit William not only knew about her desire for divorce but actively supported it. Instead, she shook her head, focusing on the passing headlights.

"And yet he defends you?" Liam's voice dropped dangerously low. "Haven't I given you everything? Why would you need his protection?"

It was true - unlimited credit cards, couture wardrobes, jewels beyond measure. Liam had provided every material possession imaginable.

Yet he'd withheld the one thing she truly wanted - his heart. His public affairs and emotional distance spoke louder than any luxury ever could.

Before she could respond, a memory surfaced. She gestured her gratitude for his help gathering evidence earlier that day.

Her expression held pure thankfulness - nothing more. No lingering affection, no wifely devotion. Just simple appreciation.

Something in Liam snapped.

In one fluid motion, he unbuckled his seatbelt and captured her lips in a searing kiss. Olivia initially resisted, which only made him press harder.

Then suddenly, she stopped fighting.

The kiss deepened, and Olivia let her mind go blank, surrendering to the moment.

Just as abruptly, Liam pulled away, studying her face with unnerving intensity.

Olivia struggled to compose herself, unwilling to reveal how much the kiss had affected her.

What Liam saw in her eyes made his blood run cold. Not passion, not love - just that same damned gratitude from before. As if his affection was merely repayment for a favor.

With a muttered curse, he slammed back into his seat and restarted the engine. "Where to?" he asked icily. "The Blackwood estate? Or your new Whitmore property?"

The accelerator met the floorboard as they sped through the night.

Somehow, Olivia found herself back at their mansion. She sat frozen even after unbuckling, wary of his volatile mood.

"Come to Mother's birthday gala with me." The invitation came suddenly, his voice rough.

Just days ago, Olivia had vowed never to endure Margaret Winslow's cruelty again. She opened her mouth to refuse.

"This time will be different." Liam cut her off. "I've spoken to her. I know how she treated you."

Olivia's eyes widened. Apparently Liam had visited the estate and learned from Adrian about Margaret's abuse.

Her hands trembled as she signed her question - why?

"Why what?" Liam frowned.

Why the sudden change? Why now?

Liam actually chuckled at her confusion. "Because you're my wife. Isn't it natural I'd protect you?"

Olivia barely suppressed her disbelief. Since when had Liam Blackwood ever behaved naturally as a husband? Yet she simply nodded, storing her doubts away.

After William publicly named Olivia as his god-granddaughter, her status at Whitmore Holdings transformed overnight. Where colleagues once offered polite nods, they now bowed with near reverence. Distant Hayes relatives suddenly materialized in her path, eager to claim connection.

The attention made Olivia's skin crawl. She wanted respect earned through merit, not inherited through title.

Determination set her jaw. She would prove herself worthy through work alone.

One particularly long afternoon, just as the elevator doors began closing, a woman rushed inside - the same one who'd staunchly defended Victoria at the recent Whitmore gala.

"Olivia!" The woman gasped for breath. "I'm Cassandra Blake. My great-aunt married into the Whitmore family ages ago."

Olivia studied her with open skepticism. The tenuous family link meant nothing, and Cassandra's earnest demeanor reminded her uncomfortably of Victoria.

"I owe you an apology," Cassandra continued. "For myself and for Victoria. Could you ever forgive us?"

The elevator continued its ascent, the silence stretching between them. Olivia weighed her response carefully, unaware of the storm brewing just floors above.