Oliver’s POV
"I’ll call my assistant later," I told her as she moved around the room, tidying up like it was her personal mission. "I’ll have him hire a caregiver so you don’t have to do all of this."
Vicky froze mid-movent.
Then she turned slowly... one eyebrow raised so high it practically touched her hairline. The look alone made feel like I’d confessed to a cri.
"Oh?" she said. "So you don’t like my cooking?"
I nearly laughed, but one wrong breath would rip my stitches—plus, provoking Vicky was basically a death wish.
"I love your food," I assured her imdiately. "It tastes amazing. But you have work, and you shouldn’t be running around cleaning up after . It doesn’t suit—"
"So I can’t clean like a normal human being?" she shot back, arms crossing defensively.
Oh God.
Abort mission.
This conversation was going straight to hell.
"It’s not—" I forced out, then discreetly pushed the remote on the table. I knew it would hurt like hell, but sotis a man has to commit to the bit. I stretched just enough to make my shoulder scream. "Ow—shit—ow, ow—"
Her irritation disappeared instantly.
"Oliver!" She rushed to my side, worry overtaking her whole face. "Are you—"
Before she finished, I grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward . She stumbled forward, and I wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her against . Pain stabbed through my ribs, but compared to the chaos in my chest, it felt like nothing.
"It’s because I think you deserve better," I said, voice low, every word scraping painfully out of . "You deserve to be treated like the queen you are. You deserve to be loved. And protected. And cared for." My throat tightened. "You don’t deserve soone like ."
There it was.
Laid bare.
And sohow, admitting it hurt worse than the bullet.
But the pain didn’t last long.
Because this woman, the one I just called a queen, slapped my shoulder, the one with the bandage.
Twice.
Then slapped my face so hard I swear my soul wobbled inside my body.
"You!" she snapped, eyes blazing through her tears. "You always think you know what’s best for ! Why are you doing this to ?!"
I just stared, stunned, barely processing the sheer fire exploding out of her.
"You always say I deserve this, and I deserve that, and I shouldn’t be with you. You said multiple tis that I deserve a man who will love , care for , provide for , blah, blah, blah! " She flung her arms in frustration. "Do you know how many tis in my life you’ve fed that bullshit?! And guess what? I don’t fucking agree with you!"
Her tears spilled over, fast and ssy and real.
And God—I wanted to pull her back into my arms.
To wipe her tears.
To kiss every trembling word right off her lips.
But she wasn’t done with .
Not even close.
"I hate it," she cried, voice shaking with every word. "I hate that I worked so damn hard just to prove I don’t need a man to do any of that for . I don’t need a man to take care of ; I can take care of myself. I don’t need a man to provide for ; I’m rich, Oliver. Rich. Richer than all those n Violet keeps pushing to et!"
Her chest heaved, anger and heartbreak mixing into sothing so visceral it tore right into .
"I don’t need other n to love ," she whispered, then her voice broke completely. "Because I only want one man in my life."
She jabbed her finger in my direction, eyes blazing with fury and agony.
"And he is fucking stupid. You are stupid! You’re a lawyer, but you have no brain! A fucking idiot! A heartless, an jerk!"
Then she collapsed, just dropped to her knees on the floor, sitting on her legs as if everything inside her finally gave up holding itself together. Loud, shaking sobs tore out of her, filling the room like the sound of sothing precious breaking.
"Vicky—"
I tried to move. I tried to sit up, swing my legs down, do sothing, anything, to get to her. But pain exploded along my ribs and shoulder, stealing my breath. My vision pulsed. I probably needed my ds, probably the nurse too... but the idea of calling soone and letting them see her like this made my stomach twist.
"Co here," I whispered, reaching out a trembling hand toward her. "Please. I can’t reach you from here..."
But she didn’t move. Didn’t even look up.
She just cried harder, shaking, as if all the years she’d held everything back were finally crashing down at once.
And all I could do was sit there, helpless, hurting, watching the woman I cared fall apart because of .
Then the door swung open.
I froze.
The people standing at the doorway froze.
And then, like so ridiculous slow-motion scene, we all turned our eyes toward Vicky.
She was still on the floor.
Still crying.
Still completely wrecked, shoulders trembling, face buried in her hands, as if nothing else in the world existed but her pain.
Nick took a step inside and stopped dead. "Uh... did we, co at a bad ti?"
Georgia’s eyes widened.
Ella covered her mouth.
Prudence whispered, "Oh dear..."
Liam looked like he wanted to disappear into the wall.
Benjamin just stood there, stiff as a pillar, staring at like I’d personally caused a world war.
"Uhm, we have a situation," I said, lifting my good hand as if I could command the chaos. "She’s... emotional."
Nick raised a brow. "Emotional? Oliver, she’s having a full-blown ltdown on the floor."
"Thank you for the unnecessary comntary," I snapped through clenched teeth.
Vicky finally sniffled loudly, lifting her tear-streaked face, only then realizing we had an audience. Her eyes widened. Her mouth parted.
And then she scread. "WHY ARE YOU ALL HERE?!"
Everyone took an instinctive step back.
Even I flinched.
Pain shot through my shoulder, but honestly?
The real danger in the room wasn’t my wounds.
It was the furious, crying woman on the floor whom seven terrified adults were now too scared to approach.
******
Thank you for the Golden Tickets!
gatron93
Kristen2025
KATHLEEN_COLL
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