Chapter 37
Liv
My ears are still ringing. At first, the words didn’t make sense. They just kept echoing in my head. It felt kind of like my brain had disconnected from my body, the whole of me going numb.
It takes an uncomfortable amount of effort to get my mouth to work. Even then, my voice sounds hollow and lost. “…W-what?”
“I ran your DNA,” he repeats.
The room tilts slightly. I blink at him, waiting for the rest, some kind of explanation or justification to explain this away. I wait for the part where this makes any kind of sense.
It doesn’t come.
“You-” I laugh once, sharp and disbelieving. “That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
My stomach drops. I feel cold, all over.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“H-how?” My voice is quiet now.
He hesitates and that hesitation tells me everything before he even says it.
“A hair sample,” he admits.
Something inside me snaps. “You took my DNA.”
“I needed to-”
“You took my DNA,” I repeat, louder now, the words hitting harder the second time. “Without telling me. Without asking me.”
“Liv-”
“No,” I cut him off, stepping back like I need distance just to breathe.
“No, don’t- don’t say my name like that.
” Like he’s pained, like I’m hurting him when I’m the one hurting so fucking badly.
My hands are shaking. Not just shaking, trembling.
Because suddenly everything clicks into place.
The tension, the secrecy, the way he’s been watching me like I’m something he needs to figure out instead of someone he’s supposed to trust.
“How long?” I demand. “How long have you been planning that?”
“I didn’t really plan it,” he says quickly. “I just-”
“You just what?” I fire back. “You just decided my body was evidence you could collect?”
His mouth becomes a tight line. “It’s not like that.”
“That what is it like?” I challenge.
He goes silent, because there’s no version of this that sounds better and no version that doesn’t make him exactly what I’m starting to see him as.
“You violated me.” The words come out as a steady whisper, like volume would make it worse.
“That’s not-”
“It is,” I break in. “You took something from me without my consent. You didn’t care what it meant to me, what it could do, how it would affect me.”
His expression fractures slightly. “I did care-”
“No, you didn’t!” I snap. “Because if you did, you would’ve asked me for it.”
“I couldn’t risk-”
“There it is,” I say bitterly. “Your job and your case. Always more important than me actually being a person.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” I step closer, anger building now. “Because from where I’m standing, this looks exactly like every other man who’s ever decided they know what’s best for me.”
His expression tightens. “That’s not fair.”
“Fair?” I laugh again, louder and more broken this time. “You want to talk about fair?”
I shove at his chest, hard. Not enough to hurt him but enough to make a point. He’s too close to me and I need space so fucking badly right now.
“You don’t get to decide what’s fair after what you did,” I say, my voice shaking now. “You don’t get to act like this is some gray area.”
“It is gray,” he insists. “Because this isn’t just about you, it’s about-”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” I cut in, my voice rising. “Don’t you dare try to justify this.”
We go silent again. At least he isn’t trying to justify it anymore. But I’m not done, I’m far from it.
“Why the hell would you even want my DNA for this damn case?” I grit out the words. Because there’s only one reason he’d risk something like this. One reason he would cross that line.
His gaze drops for a second but returns to mine a moment later. “You’re connected to him, the man leading the trafficking ring,” he says.
My stomach twists. “Connected how?”
Another pause. God, I hate that pause.
“Alex,” I grit out.
“He’s your father.”
The world stops. Just… stops.
“No,” I say immediately, flat and certain. “That’s not- no.”
“I’m sorry-”
“No,” I repeat, louder now, backing away like distance will make it less real. “No, that’s not possible.”
“It is,” he breathes out.
“No, it’s not,” I insist. “He’s not- He can’t be.”
“Just one time with your mother, that’s all it took. We don’t know if they hooked up or were in a relationship.”
My chest squeezes too tightly. Like I can’t get enough air. “She said she didn’t know who he was. She said- She…” I shake my head.
“Liv…”
“No,” I whisper, my voice sounding broken. This changes everything, everything I thought I knew about myself. About where I came from, about why I’ve always felt like something didn’t quite fit. “No,” I assert again, but it’s weaker this time. Less certain and more… broken.
“I wouldn’t lie to you about this,” he says.
I look at him and something in me hardens.
“You already did,” I say.
It’s true, and no matter what comes out of his mouth now, it’s all built on something he took without asking.
“You don’t get to tell me you wouldn’t lie to me, not after this.”
“I didn’t lie,” he argues. “I just-”
“Withheld?” I cut him off. “Manipulated? Violated?”
His jaw sets like stone. “I was trying to protect you.”
“There it is again,” I say bitterly. “That excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse.”
“It is when you use it to justify breaking every boundary I have,” I fire back. “The driver, the protocols, the way you’ve been watching me like I’m something you need to control-”
“I’m not trying to control you,” he snaps.
“You are,” I shoot back. “You just don’t want to call it that.”
“I did this because you’re in danger,” he counters, his voice lower now, more intense. “Because the man we’re hunting isn’t just some random target; he’s tied you in a way we didn’t understand before.”
“And that makes it okay?” I demand.
“No.”
“Then what does it make it?” I push.
“Necessary.”
That makes something in me crack. I shake my head slowly. “God,” I breathe. “You really believe that don’t you?”
“I believe you being alive matters more than how I got the information,” he says.
“And I believe I deserve autonomy over my own body,” I shoot back. “Even if it makes your job harder.”
We’re both breathing heavier now, standing too close and yet also too far apart.
“You think I wanted to do this?” he asks. “You think this was easy?”
“I think you didn’t think about me at all,” I reply.
It’s not entirely true, but it feels like it is. Right now, that’s all that matters.
I turn away, grabbing my bag off the bed.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“I’m leaving.”
“No.” The word comes out sharp and immediate.
I freeze for half a second then slowly turn back to him. “Excuse you?”
“You said you’d stay if I told you the truth. And you’re not safe out there,” he refutes.
Something inside me snaps again. “Oh my god,” I laugh, the sound almost hysterical now. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do. Especially not now.”
“I’m not telling you-”
“You just said ‘no,’” I cut in. “Like I’m someone you can command.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive,” he fires back.
“And I’m trying to keep my dignity,” I shoot back. “Which you’ve already done a pretty good job of wrecking.”
I start throwing things into my bag just as haphazardly as the night I packed to come here.
“You can’t just leave,” he says, stepping closer.
“Watch me.”
“Liv-”
“Get out.” The words come out louder and sharper than I expect.
He stops. “…What?”
“Get out,” I repeat, my voice breaking now despite how hard I’m trying to hold it together. “I don’t want you in here right now.”
“I’m not leaving you like this.”
“Then I’ll leave,” I shoot back. “But one way or another, I need you away from me.”
I can see him calculating, thinking over what to say and how to say it. “Liv-”
“GET OUT!” I scream. The sound tears out of me, raw and broken. My chest heaves, tears blurring my vision as everything finally catches up to me at once. The betrayal, the fear, and the realization that even when I thought I was safe, I wasn’t. Not completely, not even with him.
“That son of a bitch will never lay a hand on you!” he snaps, his voice rising for the first time. The words echo in the room.
“I don’t need you to save me from my father,” I say, my voice cracking. “I needed you to respect me. But instead, you decided to use my body without permission, just like he does. You’re no better than him.”
A silence stretches in the room, heavy and final.
“Please,” I add, softer now. “Just… go.”
He stands there for a second longer, like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. But then he nods once and turns, walking out of the room. The door closes behind him with a quiet click.
And just like that, the space feels empty. The room is now big and quiet again. I stare around at it, standing for a second, then my legs give out.
I drop onto the edge of the bed, my bag partially packed beside me, as tears finally spill over while everything crashes down at once.
I press my hands over my face, trying to breathe through the weight of it.
Through the grief, the anger, and the part of me that still…
still wants him to come back. And fix this. Even though I don’t know if he can.
Or if I’d let him. Not after this, not after everything.