Chapter 28
Olivia
***
The ballroom had long emptied, leaving only the distant clink of glassware being cleared and muffled laughter from some corridor down the hall. My heels clicked softly against the marble floor as I made my way toward the guest wing, the weight of the evening pressing heavily on my chest.
I didn’t hear him at first.
Not until a hand shot out from the shadows and caught my wrist.
“Leaving without saying goodnight?” Caleb’s voice curled around me like smoke.
I startled, trying to pull away, but his grip tightened. He dragged me into a dim alcove just off the main hallway. The lights there were low, the shadows long. I could feel the cold stone wall against my back as he caged me in, one hand braced above my head.
“I—I just needed air,” I whispered, trying to stay calm.
“You don’t go anywhere without telling me,” he said, his tone razor-sharp despite the practiced smile still ghosting his lips. He leaned in close, so close I could feel the heat of his breath against my cheek.
Then his hand trailed slowly down my arm, deliberate. Possessive.
“You’re mine, Olivia. That’s what this engagement means.” His mouth was right at my ear now. “You can smile and play the sweet little debutante all you want, but at the end of the day, you belong to me.”
I shuddered, frozen between fear and fury, heart hammering against my ribs.
His hand dropped lower—too low—and when I flinched, he just laughed softly.
“I could ruin you,” he vowed, his fingers tightening like a noose. “No one would believe you if you screamed. You’re the spoiled little princess, and I’m the son they all want for you.”
Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall.
I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
He leaned in one last time, lips brushing my cheek in a mockery of affection.
“Remember that sweetheart. You scream, and all they’ll hear is a tantrum.”
Then, just as quickly, he stepped back, smoothed his jacket, and disappeared into the dark with a casual stride—leaving me standing there, shaking, trying to hold myself together.
***
I wake with a gasp, lungs burning, the echo of a scream still caught in my throat. My heart hammers, wild and unsteady, like it’s trying to break free from my chest. The room is dark now, soft shadows stretching across the walls. I’m not there. I’m not with him.
I’m here. With Kade.
His arm tightens around me instantly, anchoring me.
“Liv?” His voice is thick with sleep but sharpened by concern. “Hey… hey, I’ve got you.”
I press a trembling hand to my chest, trying to calm the panic clawing its way up my throat. “Sorry,” I whisper. “Bad dream.”
But it wasn’t just a dream. Not really.
It was him. His voice, his hands, his control—it all felt so real.
Tears prick at my eyes as I turn away from Kade, trying to shake the fear clinging to me like smoke I can’t breathe through.
He shifts closer, his touch featherlight, careful. “Baby, talk to me.”
The sadness in his voice crumples something inside me. I can hear the worry—feel it in the way he reaches for me without pushing.
“I had a whole different life before I came here,” I whisper, the words fragile on my tongue. Kade’s hand moves slowly up and down my back, steady, grounding. I don’t turn to look at him. I can’t. Not yet. Not for this part.
“I was engaged.”
The words drop between us like stones. His hand stills on my skin.
For a moment, there’s only silence. Not heavy. Not angry. Just… processing.
“Okay.” He exhales, his voice even, though I can hear the strain beneath it, the quiet wait for more.
I shift, turning in his arms and propping myself up on one elbow. I need to see his face now that he knows, I need to look him in the eyes and hope that nothing has changed there.
Before I can say anything, Kade speaks again.
“Are you still… engaged?” His tone is calm, careful. To anyone else, he’d seem unbothered. But I see the tightness in his jaw, the way his hand curls slightly against the sheets.
I shake my head, brushing a tear from my cheek. “Not in my eyes, no. But to him?” My voice cracks. “Maybe.”
Kade’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t press—yet.
“Does he know where you are?” he asks, voice low.
I shake my head again. “I don’t think so.”
Another pause. His gaze stays on mine, steady, unreadable. “Did you leave him… recently?”
I hesitate, and that’s all it takes, his eyes flicker, just for a second. Hurt. Uncertainty.
“Right before I moved here,” I admit. “It wasn’t a real relationship, not for me. But for him…” I trail off, the words catching in my throat.
Kade’s quiet for a beat before he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
It’s not accusatory. It’s not even angry. Just quiet. Raw. Real.
Because he deserves to know and because I owe him the truth. I answer, voice barely above a whisper. “Because I was scared if I said it out loud… it would make it real again.”
Kade exhales slowly, eyes searching mine. His voice is calm, but there’s a quiet intensity behind it.
“I get that this is hard for you—to talk about something you’d rather leave behind. I do.” He pauses, then adds, softer but firmer, “But I need you to be honest with me, Liv. I’m trying to understand.”
I nod, swallowing hard. “His name is Caleb. Our fathers work together, and I was engaged to him for six months.”
The words burn coming out, my chest tightening. “It wasn’t my choice. None of it was. They arranged it—two powerful families joining forces. I didn’t have a say.”
I pause to catch my breath, trying to keep it together. “Caleb wasn’t kind. He…”
My voice breaks. I close my eyes as the memories claw their way back—uninvited, vivid, cruel.
Kade’s hand finds my back again, gentle and steady. His touch doesn’t press, just rests there, anchoring me. “Take your time,” he says softly.
I breathe in, shaky but needing to let it out. The words tremble. “He was cruel with his words. He’d corner me, torment me… sometimes he would hit me.”
For a moment, Kade says nothing. His hand stays on my back, warm and steady, but I can feel the tension in him—like he’s holding something back.
Then, quietly, he speaks.
“Jesus, Liv…”
His voice cracks at the edges, and when I finally dare to meet his eyes, they’re darker—tortured—but not with judgment. With pain. For me.
“I’m so sorry.” He brushes his thumb gently over my arm, as if trying to erase the bruises Caleb left behind. “No one should’ve put you through that. Not him. Not your family. No one.”
I nod, my throat too tight to speak.
He shifts a little closer, not pushing, just making himself available. “You don’t owe me everything right now. But you never have to hide from me. Not about this. Not ever.”
I blink back fresh tears, and Kade reaches up, cradling the side of my face with a tenderness that undoes me.
“You’re safe now, okay?” he whispers. “With me, you’re safe.”
I collapse into his arms, burying myself in his chest as he wraps me up without hesitation. His touch doesn’t fix everything, but in this moment, it softens the sharp edges—chases away the ghosts Caleb left behind.
“I want to be stronger,” I whisper, my voice muffled against him. “But some days it’s harder than others. Sometimes… something triggers a memory, and suddenly it’s like I’m back there again. Like I never left.”
His arms tighten around me, his hand gliding gently up and down my back.
“You don’t have to be strong all the time,” he says gently. “On the days you’re struggling, lean on me. Let me carry some of it. You’re not alone anymore.”
His arms tighten around me, his hand gliding gently up and down my back.
I don’t speak. I just nod against his chest, letting the silence settle around us like a blanket. His heartbeat is steady beneath my cheek, a quiet rhythm that grounds me more than words ever could.
Kade doesn’t ask for more. He doesn’t move, doesn’t rush me. He just holds me—safe, solid, warm.
And for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.