Chapter 9
Leo
Leo stood in his entryway, his gaze locked on Olivia.
She stood just past the threshold, clutching an overnight bag in one hand and a black folder in the other.
Her face was pale and tear-stained, her posture rigid with the effort of holding herself together.
He had seen her upset before, but he had never seen her look so profoundly broken.
A vicious spike of rage flared in his chest, followed closely by a cold, gripping fear. He forced both emotions down. Olivia did not need his anger right now. She needed him present. She needed him to think clearly.
"What did he do?" Leo asked, his voice laced with careful restraint.
Olivia’s throat worked. She struggled to form the words. "I think James stole from us," she finally whispered, her voice fracturing. "And he used my name to do it."
Leo absorbed the sentence. He did not know the specifics yet, but the reality painted itself clearly in his mind.
James had lied to her. James had manipulated her.
James had driven her out of her own home with proof of his betrayal clutched against her chest. Leo wanted to walk out the door, get into his truck, and make the man regret every breath he took.
Instead, he forced his focus back to the woman trembling in front of him.
"Come sit down, Liv," he instructed gently.
Brooklyn stood a few feet away, her expression conveying genuine concern.
She was observant and decent enough to grasp the severity of the situation without needing an explanation.
But Leo saw the way Olivia’s eyes darted toward Brooklyn.
He saw the extra layer of hurt flashing across Olivia’s face.
She was drowning in her husband's betrayal, and now she was standing in the entryway wondering if she had disrupted Leo’s personal life.
He hated that she had to wonder. But he could not explain it right now. Not with Olivia looking like she might shatter if the wind blew too hard. Not with James's lies sitting in the folder between them.
Olivia took a half-step backward. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shown up without calling. I didn't mean to interrupt."
"You did nothing wrong, Liv," Leo cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Brooklyn offered a supportive smile. "You're not interrupting. It's okay. Really. I'll give you both some privacy." She turned and walked gracefully down the hall, disappearing from view without demanding any further introductions.
"Thank you," Leo called after her, but his attention was already returning to Olivia.
He guided her into the living room. Olivia sat on the edge of the sofa, gripping the black folder as though letting go of it would make the nightmare real. Leo sat on the adjacent armchair, keeping a respectful distance so he would not crowd her.
"Take your time," he told her.
Olivia spoke in fragmented, painful pieces.
She explained going into James's office to find the paperwork for the bakery competition.
She detailed the bank statements, the outbound transfers, and the authorization forms. She described looking at her own signature on documents she had never signed.
She recounted James walking in, trying to convince her she was panicking, insisting she did not understand what she was looking at.
Leo listened. Every word she spoke made it harder for him to maintain his composure.
His jaw locked. His hands curled into fists resting on his knees.
His gaze moved from the folder in her hands back to the devastation in her green eyes.
He kept his anger strictly managed, ensuring it did not become another burden for her to carry.
He asked only practical questions. "Did you take pictures?"
Olivia nodded. "On my phone."
"Do you have the originals?"
"These are the originals. I took them from the filing cabinet."
"Does James know you have them?"
"Yes."
"Did he try to stop you from leaving?" Leo asked.
"He told me I was overreacting. He told me I would regret it."
Leo pushed the next question out with great difficulty. "Did he touch you?"
"No," Olivia said. "Not like that. But he tried to make me feel crazy. He tried to make me believe I was wrong, even with the proof right in my hands."
Olivia’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, and she froze the second she saw the screen.
"Do you want to answer that?" Leo asked.
She shook her head. The screen lit up again. James was sending a barrage of messages.
Where are you?
You're making this bigger than it needs to be.
Come home so we can talk.
You're going to regret this if you keep acting like this.
Olivia, answer me.
Leo read the shift from feigned concern to blatant manipulation just by watching the tension in her shoulders. "Don't respond yet," he advised.
"He will be furious," Olivia whispered.
"James can be furious by himself," Leo replied smoothly. "We need to save those messages. Let's take screenshots of everything he sends."
Olivia nodded, her thumb moving over the screen to capture the texts.
"Can I look at the folder?" Leo asked.
She hesitated for a fraction of a second before handing it over.
Leo opened the plastic flap and reviewed the pages.
He saw the outbound transfers and the altered account balances.
He read the dates. He studied the forged signature at the bottom of the authorization forms. He grasped the full, calculated scale of the deception.
James had not just hidden money; he had orchestrated a methodical theft using his wife's identity.
"We need to make copies of every single page," Leo told her, closing the folder. "And you shouldn't confront him further without professional advice. You need a lawyer, Liv."
A fresh wave of tears spilled over Olivia’s eyelashes. The word made it real. "I don't know how this became my life."
Leo leaned forward. "He did this, Liv. Not you."
The truth in his words broke the last of her defenses.
A sob tore from her throat. Leo closed the distance between them.
He reached out, his hand hovering for a second, silently asking for permission.
She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her.
He held her securely, offering nothing but comfort and safety.
He buried his face in her hair, keeping his own heartache locked away.
She was vulnerable. She was married, even if that marriage was currently burning to the ground. He refused to cross the line.
After the tears subsided, Olivia pulled back, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. She looked down at the coffee table, her voice trembling. "You didn't have to send her away."
Leo kept his expression neutral.
"I'm sorry I showed up while she was here," Olivia continued, the pain threading through her words. "Is she... someone important?"
Leo did not lie, but he kept the truth guarded. "She's a friend."
Olivia nodded, though the answer clearly failed to soothe her.
"I'll explain everything later," Leo added gently. "Not because I'm hiding it from you. Because tonight isn't about me. Right now, you matter more than whatever you're worrying about."
Olivia looked down, seemingly ashamed for asking.
"You don't need to apologize," Leo told her, his tone unyielding.
***
Leo spent the next twenty minutes preparing the guest room. He moved with purpose, smoothing out clean sheets, setting a glass of water on the nightstand, and plugging a phone charger into the wall outlet. He placed a box of tissues on the dresser and pointed out the en-suite bathroom.
Olivia stood in the doorway, watching him. "I'll only stay for tonight," she said, her voice fragile. "I promise I will figure something else out tomorrow."
Leo turned to face her. The sheer vulnerability in her eyes tore at whatever defenses he had left. "You can stay as long as you need."
She wrapped her arms around her waist, shrinking into herself. "I don't want to ruin your life too."
The sentence struck him like a physical blow.
He crossed the room in two strides. He did not ask for permission this time; he reached out and pulled her into his chest. Olivia collapsed into him, her hands grabbing the fabric of his shirt.
For Leo, holding her after forcing himself to stay away for two months was a visceral relief.
He felt the frantic thud of her heartbeat pressing into him.
He felt the damp heat of her tears seeping through his shirt.
He buried his face in her blonde hair, closing his eyes as her trembling traveled straight into his own bones.
The urge to shield her from the rest of the world consumed him.
"You are not ruining anything by needing help," he murmured near her temple, his voice fierce with protectiveness. "You are safe here, Liv. Do you understand me? You are safe."
She nodded into his chest, her grip on him tightening. Leo held her until the violent shaking passed. When she finally pulled back, wiping her cheeks, he kept his hands on her shoulders. He leaned down and pressed a long, tender kiss to her forehead.
He left her to rest, closing the bedroom door behind him.
He walked downstairs, his boots stepping lightly on the hardwood floors. Now that Olivia was no longer in the room, the final remnants of his restraint vanished. He let the pure, unfiltered fury take over.
He spread the documents across the dining table, taking high-resolution photos of every page.
He stared at the forged signature. The blue ink blurred his vision.
Guilt twisted deep in his gut, a vicious, gnawing ache.
He had pulled back. He had stayed away for weeks, trying to kill his own feelings, trying to be the honorable best friend.
While he was busy protecting his own pride, Olivia was living a nightmare.
He blamed himself for giving James the space to hurt her.
If he had paid more attention, if he had not been so focused on burying his own attraction to her, he might have caught the lies sooner.
He had not seen this coming. He had noticed James acting distant, but he never imagined the man was actively destroying her future.
Leo gripped the edge of the wooden table.
He thought about the years he had spent respecting her marriage, keeping his distance because he believed James made her happy.
He thought about every time she had defended her husband, excused his absences, and waited for him to come home.
He pictured Olivia trying to make her bakery succeed while the man she loved drained the funds right out from under her.
James had not just betrayed her. He had used her.
He had manipulated her trust, banking on her devotion to cover his tracks.
The anger burning inside Leo was not just about the money. It was about the way James made her look when she stood in the entryway—terrified, humiliated, stripped of her confidence.
Leo pulled his phone from his pocket. He did not dial James’s number. He scrolled through his contacts and called a private forensic investigator he trusted with his own business matters.
Leo looked down at Olivia’s forged signature one more time, then pressed call.
James had spent years mistaking Olivia’s trust for weakness.
By morning, Leo would make sure that mistake started costing him.