Olivia’s POV
The pictures are still there. On my bed. Staring back at like ghosts. I made a huge mistake.
I didn’t touch them.
I can’t.
They feel like proof of sothing I’ve been trying not to admit. Luca knew everything about . Everything. Before I even t him. Before I even knew he existed.
It has all been his plan all along, he crafted it perfectly, he knew what he wanted, he got where he needed and here I am thinking he is a kind man
He had my pictures.
My mother.
My old clan.
—when I was just a little girl, smiling like the world wasn’t out to get .
I feel sick.
I sit at the edge of the bed, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my dress. I thought I could handle this. I told myself I would stay, play his ga, act like I was fine.
But this?
This is too much, I can’t handle it even if I wanted to.
He didn’t just buy .
He studied .
He watched before I even got here.
The dinners. The softness. The way he looked at like I was sothing fragile. It all starts to look different now. All of it feels like a trick. A carefully written lie, I know I was pretending but at so point, I enjoyed it, I cared for it because no one has done that for , not even Conrad
My stomach twists.
⸻
A knock.
Soft. Careful.
His voice follows.
"Olivia."
I don’t move.
"I just want to talk."
I stay quiet.
"How do you know my mom." I whispered, my voice so low when I stared at the door, I can’t tell him I found this, he would never let leave if he knows, he would never trust again if he knows.
I keep staring at the floor. My chest rises and falls too fast, and my hands won’t stop shaking.
"I should’ve told you. I just—" he pauses, voice low. "Open the door. Please." He asked, when I didn’t hear anything anymore. "I will let you be for a while, you have all night but by tomorrow we are having a conversation."
No.
Because if I do, I’ll forget why I’m angry. I’ll fall again. I always do.
And I can’t afford to fall anymore.
Not for him.
Not after this.
His footsteps fade down the hallway, and only then do I let out the breath I’ve been holding.
⸻
I don’t sleep.
The room is too cold. Too quiet. Too full of secrets.
I sit there, frozen in place, until it hits .
I can’t stay.
I won’t stay.
Not when I feel like a prisoner in my own body. Not when I don’t even know who Luca really is, I thought I did and I thought was subtle, now I feel he realized my plan all along. To pretend to be good and he saw through it, he realized that no matter what I did, I will still fall for him and he is right.
This isn’t protection. It’s control.
And I won’t let him have that over .
⸻
What was I thinking, creating a plan so I will figure this out especially when I am hurting, he just reminded of the fact that, my husband didn’t care for , Conrad didn’t do any of the things he did and he could have done that, he reminded of the mistake of my past and what I deserved.
Luca knows even more than Conrad ever did, he has information that I never told Conrad, I never spoke about my family to him, mostly because I wnated to forget, when she died, I didn’t tell him, because he would not understand and I knew going to her funeral would only spark drama.
I shook off the thoughts when I shove the photos back into the envelope, my hands trembling. I take one last look at the picture of and my mother.
"I’m sorry," I whisper.
Then I tuck it into my sweater and move toward the door.
It’s ti.
I’m leaving tonight.
Before he finds a new way to break .
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