Chapter 34 Leo
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Leo
…and then I also need to think about what to get for my aunt. But she’ll probably want some fancy bath salts or a new set of gardening tools. Honestly, it’s the thought that counts, right…?
I’m so full of Christmas shopping distractions that it takes me a moment to realize something in the house is off.
It’s quiet. Too quiet as I slip through the front door. It manages to silence my brain for a moment.
I glance up, and my gaze lands on Olivia. She’s sitting on the couch, her back slightly hunched. The sight of her in that way, vulnerable, small, not the usual smartass I’m used to, is a punch to the gut.
Ivy’s sitting beside her, rubbing her back, concern flooding her expression. The moment her eyes meet mine, I can see that shit has well and truly hit the fan.
What the hell has happened now?
Fuck.
“What’s going on?” The question comes out before I can even think about it. “Can I do anything?”
Olivia sniffles, which is when I realize that she’s crying. Holy shit, this is bad.
“Olivia’s boss,” Ivy finally sighs. “Richard fucking Stokes.”
I narrow my eyes. “But I thought you were done with him, Liv? What could he possibly want with you now?”
“He's suing her,” Ivy barks. “For misappropriation of funds. Accusing her of stealing.”
The words don’t make sense at first.
My mind stalls, scrambling to connect the dots. Olivia… stealing? No. She’s the last person to do anything criminal.
I’ve seen how hard she works, how much she pushes herself to keep her head above water. The idea of her doing anything underhanded is beyond me.
She gave all of herself to that job before she was pushed into a corner and had to quit.
“That’s fucked up,” I mutter, feeling a rush of anger that I didn’t expect. “What can we do to stop him? Especially as this sounds to me like some revenge bullshit.”
Ivy nods. “I know, which is why I’ve called my old college roommate. Sloane Katz. She’s an investigative journalist. She’s incredible at her job. I’ve never known anyone like her. I really think she can help.”
Is it enough?
I don’t know this woman, but I do trust Ivy’s words. Jesse always says she’s the best judge of character, so I guess this is good.
Olivia doesn’t speak for a moment, and when she finally looks up at me, she’s trying to hold herself together. I can see the fight in her eyes, but I also see something else—a kind of resignation.
“I didn’t do it, Leo. I wouldn’t do anything like this.”
“Oh, I know that.” It isn’t even a question in my mind. “I know you wouldn’t.”
“But if he has a high-powered lawyer, I might lose everything. Even my coffee truck.”
Rage simmers within me. The words stab deep into me.
“Not on my watch,” I say, and something snaps inside me. It comes out of me without even thinking, without hesitation. My chest tightens with fury and protectiveness. “Not on my fucking watch, Liv.”
Her coffee truck. It’s more than a job to her. It’s her sanctuary, her safe space. I see how much it means to her. It’s where she’s carved out a life for herself after everything went to shit. And Stokes? Stokes wants to take that away.
For what?
If Stokes dares touch her, touch that, I’ll make sure he regrets it—every single day for the rest of his miserable life. I don’t need to know the guy to know I can take him down.
“I’ll help,” I add. “Whatever it takes. Stokes isn’t going to get away with this. You’ve got people on your side, Liv. I’m not letting him destroy you. No way. You’re a part of this town now, and we are not going to let you fall.”
Her gaze locks on mine, and I can see the flicker of gratitude there. But there’s hesitation too.
The walls she’s spent so long building up are still there, just beneath the surface. She’s always carried the weight of everything by herself, and I know it’s hard for her to accept help, even when it’s offered.
“I don’t want to drag you into this,” she says quietly. “I know I have to fight this myself.”
I step closer to her, my gaze hardening. “Yeah, well, guess what? I’m going to be here for you anyway. We all will.”
I let that sink in, letting her see the truth of what I’m saying.
Her shoulders finally seem to relax, just a little, and I know she’s hearing me. But there’s still so much she’s holding in.
I don’t want to just talk about this. I want to show her she’s not alone in all this. She needs something good right now, to pull her out of this hole, even if it’s for just a little while.
I glance over at Ivy, who’s been sitting quietly but watching us both, and I have an idea. It’s small, simple, but it feels right.
“Come on, both of you,” I say, lighter than before. “Get your coats. We’re going to the Christmas market.”
I see a flicker of confusion in Olivia’s eyes, but it’s quickly replaced by softness. Maybe curiosity, maybe the first stirrings of hope.
“You need some damn Christmas snacks—hot chocolate, roasted chestnuts, maybe some gingerbread cookies. You’ve been dealing with too much heavy shit. It’s time for something light, okay?”
Ivy lets out a laugh, a sound that’s been too rare today. “You know, I’m not going to argue with that. There’s always room for gingerbread.”
Olivia looks between us, a hesitant smile tugging at her lips, but she doesn’t argue. And that’s all the permission I need.
The Christmas market is alive with lights, laughter, and the unmistakable scent of cinnamon and clove.
It's basically stepping into a snow globe. Twinkling lights drape over wooden stalls, with lights dancing over the crafts and handmade items for sale.
Snowflakes drift lazily from the sky, settling on the bustling crowd, while the distant sound of carolers fills the air with festive cheer. A perfect little world where the chaos of everyday life fades away, if only for a few hours.
The stalls are a patchwork of colorful, hand-painted wood, each one brimming with unique, artisan creations.
There’s a booth laden with intricately woven scarves, each one soft and warm, their colors a mix of deep reds, emerald greens, and snowy whites.
Nearby, a stall displays delicate glass ornaments, each one shimmering in the glow of the fairy lights. Some are shaped like snowflakes, others like tiny sleighs, and a few are even hand-blown to resemble miniature Christmas trees.
The air is filled with the sound of soft chatter and the rhythmic clink of coins as people make their purchases, their voices a blend of excitement and contentment.
A cart offers freshly roasted chestnuts, the scent of them mingling with the sweetness of caramelized sugar from the candied apple stand across the way. The warm, toasty smell of baked gingerbread drifts from a nearby bakery stall, tempting passersby to take a bite.
At the end of the market, a group of children laughs as they chase each other through a small patch of fake snow, their faces bright with joy.
A horse-drawn carriage waits by the far corner, its bells jingling softly as families take turns riding through the twinkling streets, the horses’ breath misting in the frosty air.
Ivy’s the first to grab a hot chocolate, and she hands one to Olivia before she can even protest. “You will love this. And it’s only a little bit spiked.”
I stick with something more substantial: spiced cider. I need it to warm my bones, and besides, I’m already anticipating a long night of stewing over the Stokes mess. A little fun now won’t hurt.
The Christmas lights twinkle around us as we walk through the market, the soft buzz of conversation mixing with the hum of carolers singing in the distance.
There’s a small ice rink where kids are skating, the little ones wobbling and laughing as they try to find their balance.
I catch Olivia’s eye as she watches them, and for a second, I see her smile. It’s faint, but it’s there. A real one. A smile that says she's not thinking about Stokes for a moment.
“Think you could handle those skates?” I ask, nudging her with my elbow.
Olivia rolls her eyes, but there’s a playfulness behind it. “I’m more of a 'keep my feet on solid ground' kind of person.”
I smirk. “You wouldn’t be the first.”
“You think I’m scared?” she teases, but there’s a glint of challenge in her eyes.
“I don’t know. Maybe you are, Liv,” I tease back, and the corners of her lips twitch as if she’s holding back a laugh. “Maybe you just know you won’t be as good as me.”
Ivy joins in, grinning. “Come on, Olivia. It’s just skating. If Leo can do it, so can you.”
I raise an eyebrow, cocky as hell. “I’m a natural.”
Olivia looks at me skeptically, but the warmth in her eyes is unmistakable.
“We’re not doing this right now, are we?” Olivia asks, trying to mask the smile that’s tugging at her lips.
“Oh, I think we are,” Ivy chimes in, and I can’t help but laugh at the way Olivia’s eyes narrow, giving up her fight.
“We’ll go slow,” I add, already guiding them toward the rink. “Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand.”
“Leo. Don’t make me regret this,” Olivia mutters, but she’s clearly relenting, and I can see how much it means to her to just… let go, even for a second.
The ice rink is crowded with kids, but we make our way onto the ice, my feet sliding beneath me as I take a few wobbly steps.
I try to keep my balance, but I can already tell this is going to be one of those moments where I act cocky and end up looking foolish.
Olivia looks at me, and without missing a beat, she takes a step toward me, one hand raised for balance. She’s better than I expected. Way better. Not that I’ll ever tell her that.
“What happened to ‘solid ground,’ huh?” I tease, catching up to her.
She shoots me a look. “I’m not that bad.”
“I’m impressed,” Ivy calls from behind us, muffled by her laughter. “I thought for sure you’d be clinging to the wall.”
“Give it time,” I mutter, still sliding a bit too much for my liking.
We’re gliding in a loose circle now, Olivia’s movements becoming more fluid with each lap.