CHAPTER SIX #3
"A tactical retreat from a party?" Olivia asked, pouring the tea. "Mom, you practically dragged me out by my elbow."
"It was just too much, Olivia," Chloe interjected quickly, leaning forward, trying to project a sense of sisterly solidarity while masking her own terror.
"You’re used to it, maybe, but for us? It was overwhelming.
All those billionaires, the senators, the sheer amount of money in that room…
it was intimidating. Mom started feeling a little claustrophobic, and we just thought it would be better to slip out quietly before we embarrassed ourselves. "
"Embarrassed yourselves?" Olivia frowned, sitting down at the table and pulling a mug toward her. "You guys were perfectly fine. You looked beautiful."
"It’s not about how we looked, Livie," Aunt Beatrice chimed in, her voice pitching an octave higher than normal. She cleared her throat and tried again. "It’s the atmosphere. It’s a lot of pressure.
We just… we hit our limit. We didn't want to ruin your night by being uncomfortable, so we took ourselves home. "
Olivia studied their faces. They all looked exhausted, pale, and deeply unsettled.
The explanation made sense to her. She knew exactly how intimidating the Ashford world could be; she felt it every single day.
If her family had felt swallowed up by the opulence, it was understandable that they would want to escape it.
"I suppose I understand," Olivia said softly, blowing on her tea. "I just wish I had seen Grayson before we left. He looked really pale when he walked away. He hasn't texted me this morning, either."
She reached into the pocket of her shorts, pulling out her cell phone. "I should call him. Just to make sure he’s feeling alright."
The collective reaction around the table was instantaneous and violent.
"No!" Linda blurted out, her hand shooting across the table to cover Olivia’s phone.
Olivia jumped, her blue eyes wide with shock. "Mom? What is wrong with you?"
Linda realized her mistake instantly. She pulled her hand back, forcing a breathless, shaky laugh. "Nothing, sweetie. I’m sorry. I just… I don't think you should call him right now."
"Why not? He’s my boyfriend."
"Because he’s probably exhausted, Olivia," Aunt Brenna stepped in, her voice low, deploying the practical, commanding tone she usually used on her third-grade students.
"Think about it. He hosted four hundred people last night.
It was his parents' milestone anniversary. If he was already feeling unwell, he’s probably sleeping it off.
Men like Grayson work incredibly hard; they need their rest."
"Brenna is right," Chloe added, nodding enthusiastically, desperate to keep Olivia away from Grayson until they knew exactly what had transpired in the aftermath of their botched plan.
"If you call him now, you might wake him up.
Or you might seem… clingy. You don't want to smother him, Liv.
You have to give him space to recover from the weekend. "
"Give him space?" Olivia repeated, her brow furrowing in confusion. The contradictory advice was giving her whiplash. "But last week you told me I needed to make sure he only had eyes for me. You told me I needed to secure my position. Now you’re telling me to back off?"
Linda swallowed the dry, panicked lump in her throat.
The web of advice they had spun was collapsing under the weight of their own criminality.
They desperately wanted Olivia and Grayson to stay together.
They wanted the marriage, the wealth, the security.
But their "harmless" push had spiraled into something terrifying, and until they knew what happened in the aftermath of their catastrophic plan—they could not risk Olivia walking into the crossfire.
"We just mean for today, sweetie," Linda said gently, reaching out and patting Olivia’s hand, hating herself for the manipulation but unable to stop.
"Just give him today. Let him rest. Send him a nice, simple text later this afternoon. If he wants to talk, he’ll call you.
You have to play it cool. Let him come to you. "
Olivia looked down at her phone, her thumb hovering over the screen.
She didn't want to play it cool. She loved Grayson, and she was genuinely worried about him. But her family’s united front of anxiety was contagious.
They were older, they were wiser, and they were fiercely protective of her.
If they thought calling him was a mistake, she felt obligated to trust them.
"Okay," Olivia said softly, slipping the phone back into her pocket. "I’ll wait until tomorrow."
A silent, collective wave of relief washed over the four women at the table.
But as Olivia took a sip of her tea, looking out the window at the ocean, Linda caught Brenna’s eye.
The look that passed between them was one of suffocating dread.
They had bought themselves twenty-four hours.
But they had set a fire in the heart of a billionaire’s empire, and they had absolutely no idea how to put it out before it burned them all to the ground.