Chapter 17 Corporate War #2
Rent needed paying.
Bills existed.
Life continued whether his heart cooperated or not.
So Oliver did what he understood best.
He returned to cooking.
The position wasn't glamorous.
No billionaire penthouse.
No luxury ingredients flown in from Europe.
No private dining experiences for world-famous investors.
Just an upscale Manhattan restaurant trying to build a reputation.
Ordinarily, he might have considered it a step backward.
Now it felt like survival.
And survival was enough.
The restaurant, Harbor & Vine, sat along the edge of the Hudson River.
The owner, a practical woman named Rachel Monroe, cared more about food than appearances.
A quality Oliver appreciated immediately.
She hired him without endless questions.
Without curiosity about scandals.
Without concern for gossip.
For that alone, he would always be grateful.
The work helped.
Long hours left little room for self-pity.
Dinner service demanded focus.
Precision.
Energy.
By the end of most shifts, exhaustion replaced heartbreak.
Not completely.
But enough.
The arrangement suited him.
At least until Marcus reappeared.
Again.
The message arrived late on a Friday evening.
Oliver noticed it while cleaning down his station after service.
A familiar name flashed across his phone screen.
Marcus.
The sight immediately ruined his mood.
Several weeks earlier, the message would've created confusion.
Now it created irritation.
The difference felt significant.
He opened the text reluctantly.
We need to talk.
Oliver laughed quietly.
A humorless sound.
The audacity remained impressive.
After everything that happened, Marcus still believed conversations could fix things.
The realization felt absurd.
Without responding, Oliver locked the phone and returned to work.
The matter should have ended there.
Unfortunately, Marcus never understood boundaries.
The following afternoon, he appeared at the restaurant.
Because of course he did.
Oliver spotted him immediately through the front windows.
Perfectly dressed.
Perfectly groomed.
Perfectly unwanted.
The sight generated immediate frustration.
Rachel noticed his expression.
"Friend of yours?"
Oliver glanced toward the dining room.
"No."
The answer arrived perhaps a little too quickly.
Rachel laughed.
"Ex-boyfriend?"
The accuracy startled him.
"How did you know?"
"Twenty years in hospitality."
She shrugged.
"I can spot relationship disasters from across a room."
Fair enough.
Several minutes later, Marcus approached the open kitchen.
The familiar confidence remained intact.
Unfortunately.
"Oliver."
The smile he offered looked practiced.
Charming.
Professional.
Once upon a time, that smile melted defenses.
Now it simply annoyed him.
"What do you want?"
Marcus winced slightly.
Apparently honesty still surprised him.
"To talk."
"No."
The answer came instantly.
Several nearby staff members pretended not to listen.
Badly.
Marcus glanced around.
Then lowered his voice.
"Please."
The request carried something unusual.
Urgency.
The detail immediately caught Oliver's attention.
Not enough to forgive him.
Enough to notice.
Against his better judgment, he agreed to ten minutes.
Nothing more.
They sat at a small table near the back patio after service ended.
The river stretched beyond the railing.
Boats drifted through afternoon sunlight.
Normally, the view felt relaxing.
Today it didn't.
Marcus looked uncomfortable.
A rare sight.
The observation alone made Oliver suspicious.
"What happened?"
The question emerged before he could stop it.
Marcus hesitated.
Then shook his head.
"Nothing."
A lie.
An obvious lie.
The old familiar instinct immediately returned.
Because Oliver knew Marcus.
Knew his expressions.
Knew his habits.
The man sitting across from him was nervous.
Genuinely nervous.
The realization felt unusual.
Marcus rarely feared anything.
"Why are you really here?"
The direct approach produced immediate discomfort.
Good.
Marcus looked away.
Toward the river.
Toward anything except Oliver.
Then a phone buzzed inside his jacket pocket.
The interruption seemed minor.
Until Marcus reacted.
Instantly.
His entire posture changed.
Tension.
Concern.
Almost panic.
The reaction lasted only seconds.
Yet Oliver noticed.
The years they spent together made certain observations automatic.
Marcus quickly silenced the device.
Too quickly.
The movement appeared practiced.
Secretive.
The sight triggered something.
A memory.
Not fully formed.
Just a feeling.
The kind that appeared before understanding.
Oliver frowned slightly.
"What?"
Marcus looked startled.
"What?"
"You're hiding something."
The accusation landed immediately.
Visible tension crossed Marcus's face.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
For several moments, neither spoke.
Then Marcus stood.
Abruptly.
"Maybe this was a mistake."
The words sounded rushed.
Uneasy.
Nothing like his usual confidence.
Before Oliver could respond, Marcus was already leaving.
The encounter lasted less than ten minutes.
Yet something about it lingered.
Something felt wrong.
Deeply wrong.
The feeling followed Oliver throughout the weekend.
A persistent irritation at the edge of his thoughts.
By Monday, curiosity finally won.
A terrible habit.
One that had already caused enough trouble.
Unfortunately, ignoring it proved impossible.
The opportunity arrived unexpectedly.
One of Harbor & Vine's investors hosted a private networking event.
Restaurant owners.
Suppliers.
Hospitality executives.
The sort of gathering Oliver usually avoided.
Rachel insisted.
So he attended.
Several hours into the evening, Oliver found himself searching for a quiet place away from endless business conversations.
The hotel terrace seemed perfect.
At least initially.
Until he heard a familiar voice.
Marcus.
The sound immediately captured his attention.
Instinctively, Oliver stopped walking.
The voice came from around a nearby corner.
Low.
Agitated.
Private.
Marcus was speaking on the phone.
Ordinarily, Oliver would've continued walking.
Minding his own business.
Then he heard another name.
Victor.
Every instinct sharpened.
Because even Oliver knew that name now.
Victor Kane.
The businessman trying to destroy Ethan.
News articles discussed him constantly.
The connection felt impossible to ignore.
Without meaning to, Oliver remained where he was.
Listening.
The conversation drifted clearly through the evening air.
"...getting impatient."
Marcus sounded frustrated.
Angry.
Nothing like the charming man he usually pretended to be.
Several seconds passed.
Then:
"I did my part."
Oliver froze.
The words settled heavily.
Confusingly.
Marcus continued.
"I got close enough."
Another pause.
Then a laugh.
Cold.
Unpleasant.
The sound sent a chill through Oliver.
"Obviously the relationship became useful."
The world seemed to tilt slightly.
Useful.
The word echoed inside his head.
Marcus kept talking.
Oblivious.
Careless.
"The scandal would've happened eventually."
Another pause.
"I can't control everything."
Oliver stopped breathing.
The realization arrived slowly.
Then all at once.
Like shattered glass.
Like a puzzle suddenly complete.
The gala invitations.
The constant appearances.
The relentless pursuit.
None of it had been about love.
Not really.
Not primarily.
Marcus hadn't returned because he missed him.
Marcus returned because Oliver provided access.
Access to Ethan.
Access to information.
Access to opportunities.
The realization felt nauseating.
A deep sense of betrayal settled inside his chest.
Worse than heartbreak.
Because heartbreak implied genuine feelings.
This felt calculated.
Manipulative.
Cruel.
Marcus laughed again.
The sound seemed uglier now.
Stripped of charm.
Stripped of illusion.
"Trust me."
A pause.
"Blackwood never saw it coming."
Silence followed.
Then footsteps.
Moving.
Approaching.
Oliver reacted instantly.
Retreating behind a nearby column moments before Marcus rounded the corner.
The close call sent adrenaline surging through his body.
Fortunately, Marcus never noticed him.
The man continued walking.
Still focused on the conversation.
Still unaware he'd just exposed everything.
Oliver remained hidden until he disappeared.
Only then did he move.
Slowly.
Carefully.
His pulse hammered wildly.
Because the implications felt enormous.
Marcus lied.
About everything.
The apologies.
The regret.
The promises.
The reconciliation attempts.
Every word suddenly looked different.
Every gesture carried new meaning.
And perhaps worst of all, Oliver realized he had almost believed him.
The thought left him feeling sick.
Standing alone on the terrace, he stared out across the city lights.
Trying to process what he'd heard.
Trying to understand what it meant.
One truth emerged clearly.
Painfully clearly.
Marcus Reed never returned for love.
He returned because someone offered him something more valuable.
Money.
Influence.
Opportunity.
Whatever Victor Kane promised, it mattered more than Oliver ever had.
The realization hurt.
Yet strangely, it also brought clarity.
Because for the first time since leaving London, Oliver finally stopped wondering if Marcus ever truly regretted walking away.
Now he knew.
The answer was no.
And as the city glittered beyond the hotel terrace, another realization followed close behind.
If Marcus was involved in the scandal, then Ethan had been telling the truth.
About more than Oliver wanted to admit.
The thought lingered long after the party ended.
Heavy.
Unsettling.
And impossible to ignore.
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