Chapter Two
Olivia
If the Academy could see me right now, it’d give me an Oscar for Best Actress. Nobody’s caught on to the fact that everything I’ve done is for show.
A hint of helpless resignation flits across Liam’s eyes, as dark and deep as the Pacific on a stormy day. Looking into them never fails to soothe the jagged edges of my soul.
He’s changed so much since our days in college. He was unable to string a sentence together for a few months our freshman year, but only in front of me. Some jerks mocked him, calling him Liam the Stammerer, as though being brave enough to be honest with your feelings makes you pathetic.
Now he speaks articulately, hinting at his disapproval over the dynamic between Tyler and me without crossing the line.
The fiery red tips of his ears betray him, though.
If I point them out, he’ll probably flush with embarrassment.
But that’s what is so amazing about him—he makes my heart soften despite my resolve to stay detached from everyone around me. Maybe it’s the openness in his gaze.
It was so hard to look past him in the four classes we had together in college, especially when he always sat in the same seats, right in my line of sight, and stole glances at me from time to time.
Despite his dark hair and ocean-blue eyes, he radiates golden retriever energy—sunny and nearly impossible to resist. Doesn’t help that his hair looks so soft, and his features are even.
He would almost look pretty if it weren’t for the square jaw.
“There’s something wrong with your judgment,” Liam says finally. From the way his mouth flattens, he means more than the rings.
I give him the first genuine smile I’ve managed today. “What can I say? The heart loves what it loves. But thanks for your concern.”
His eyebrows pull together. He drops his gaze to the sketches for a second before raising it to meet mine. “You know—”
The door bursts open again. Brielle barges in, shoving aside the poor woman from before. She should’ve been a linebacker.
“Oops, forgot my fob.” An airy voice, then she gasps theatrically. “Oh my God, why are you so inappropriate with him?” She points to Liam, her eyes saucer-wide.
“Inappropriate how?” he says, bristling.
Brielle misses the hostility. Or more like she doesn’t care about upsetting a person she deems irrelevant to her power play with me. “You guys are sitting so close together. Like are you about to kiss or something, rather than picking out the wedding bands like you’re supposed to?”
“At least she isn’t running her hand all over my thigh like some shameless homewrecker.” Impatience sharpens Liam’s voice.
She pulls back, her mouth slightly open.
He obviously hit a nerve. But she doesn’t just want to cause trouble—she wants to steal Tyler, like she stole all of my boyfriends.
This time, though, it won’t just end with a broken engagement—it’ll be a complete bride swap.
She thinks she’s slick and subtle, but that’s a laugh.
After having lived with her for close to a decade, I know how her mind works better than she does.
“Don’t be rude.” Tyler arrives and steps forward. From the way he’s shielding her, you’d think she was his fiancée. But just give it time… “She’s the bride’s sister—the most important person at the wedding.”
Brielle places a hand on her hip, growing smug now that she has some backup.
Liam gives him a mock-puzzled look. “Really. I thought that was the bride.”
Thank you, Liam.
Tyler shrugs irritably. “Other than the bride, I mean. Pay attention.”
“Exactly. By the way, what did you pick?” Brielle says, moving closer to the table.
I tilt my head to see what she’s up to now.
She makes sure to bend forward so Liam can’t miss her ass at his eye level, then scootches until she’s practically standing in front of me.
Suddenly, she seems to stumble. Her hands snake out to catch herself, knocking over a coffee on my side.
The brown liquid spills over the drafts.
Gasping, she lands to her right, over where Liam is. She twists her torso to ensure he can’t miss her breasts bouncing, at the same time swiping a hand over the tabletop as though trying to regain her balance, only to push all the drafts onto the floor.
Sadly, her little performance has failed to move Liam.
He watches her the way you’d watch a clown.
Relief and warmth well in my heart—he hasn’t changed in the last eight years.
Brielle pulled something similar back then when she came to Stanford, ostensibly because she missed me, and Liam treated her like she didn’t merit a single second of his time.
He’s still immune to Brielle, a cool voice in my head whispers. The fact that there’s someone whose behavior is a constant thaws the chill in my heart. Although I have no intention of involving Liam in my plan—I’m not selfish or brave enough to do that—I don’t feel so alone with him around.
Still sprawled at Liam’s feet, Brielle gives me a pitiful look. “Oh my God, you didn’t have to push me. I didn’t mean to upset you by stopping by to give you the lipstick and get my fob.”
Tyler rushes forward and helps her up. “Are you okay?” He turns to me with a dark scowl. “What the hell is wrong with you, Olivia? She’s your sister.”
“Don’t raise your voice at her. She didn’t push her,” Liam says.
“Stay out of this.” He directs his glare back at me. “Don’t you have anything to say?”
“I didn’t push her,” I repeat what Liam just said, except I make my voice shaky—even a little cowed—and avoid his eyes.
Breathing hard, Tyler turns red. “Bullshit! I didn’t realize that you were this kind of person.”
Liam narrows his eyes. “Olivia said she didn’t push her. So she didn’t.”
“What the fuck do you know?” Tyler snaps.
“I can pull up the security footage,” Liam says, pointing at the ceiling.
Brielle suddenly waves a hand. “No, no, no need to trouble yourself. I just…” She sighs before turning to me. “Whatever hard feelings you have, I hope you feel better now.” She pats her palms and knees as though she’s gravely injured.
Who would buy this clumsy farce?
Tyler, actually, because he’s looking at her with what seems to be genuine concern. What an idiot. And he has clients who give him money to manage.
“Why don’t you take her to the ER?” I say. “We can’t have her hurt. The wedding is in less than six weeks, and she’s the maid of honor.”
“Fine,” Tyler says. “But before we go, you need to apologize.”
Is he serious?
Liam tenses, ready to spring to my defense. I put a hand on his lower back, the angle hiding the move from Tyler and Brielle’s view. His muscles tighten until they’re nearly shaking with strain to hold still, but he does.
She runs her hand along Tyler’s arm. “Oh my gosh, that isn’t necessary. It was just an accident. And besides, you know I’m clumsy.” She pouts in what she considers her cute mode.
“See how understanding she is? You need to show some grace.”
My eyes instantly fill with unshed tears. “I’m your fiancée.”
“I know. That’s why I’m trying to mediate between the two of you. Just bend a little and apologize. You always had everything, being older and all.”
Over my dead body. Show or not, I’m not saying sorry to the bitch who killed my mom and my dog. “No. I already told you I didn’t push her.”
“Fine,” Tyler snarls. “You’re really disappointing me, Olivia.”
I let my chin tremble a little. “And you’re hurting me by not taking my side. We’re supposed to be in love.”
“I know I am. But you? You apparently don’t love me enough to just give a little. Your pride matters more.”
“Stop it, Tyler. You’re really hurting her.
Look, she’s about to cry.” Brielle lays a hand over his chest. “It’s fine, really.
” She purposely steps on the drafts, grinding her heels into the sheets until they tear.
“Oh, sorry. Didn’t see those. Do you want me to pick them up? ” Her defiant eyes are on mine.
Tyler pulls her into his arms, then snatches the fob off the table. “Forget it. Let’s go. She can still see what’s on the paper. Let me buy you something nice for a late lunch. And to make up for her bitchiness.”
The second the door closes, Liam explodes to his feet and spins around to face me. “What the hell? Why didn’t you fight back? Why do you even bother with those two?”
I study his expression. Fury blazes in his eyes, tension tightening his jaw. He looks more upset than me over the blatant disrespect and abuse.
If only I could be certain my plan would leave him unscathed… I have a feeling he wouldn’t betray me, at least not for Brielle anyway. But someone as sincere as Liam deserves better than being dragged into an old family feud he doesn’t understand.
At the same time, I’ll never find peace as long as Hugh and his mistress live in my mother’s mansion and continue using her money to fund their lavish lifestyle. I take a moment to gather myself. “Because some love can’t just be let go. And not all pain heals with time.”
His expression crumbles a little, and the fight in him deflates. “You weren’t so philosophical in college.”
I smile, hoping to brighten the mood. “Hard to be philosophical in the middle of doing differential equations.” I gesture for him to sit beside me again. “We should finalize this. Just go ahead with what we discussed.” I scribble some numbers. “Here’s the ring size.”
He frowns. “That’s too big for you.”
I freeze. “How do you know?”
“Are you kidding? It’s my job to know.” He drops his eyes to my finger, where Tyler’s perfunctory ring lies. “Your fingers are slimmer.”
“Well, I might gain some weight before the wedding.”
Liam frowns.
“I’m not starving myself for a wedding. It’s an event to celebrate, not suffer for.” I smile with secret satisfaction.
His Adam’s apple bobs, and he nods slowly. “Right. Something to celebrate. A big milestone.”
“Exactly.”
Once the decisions are made, the rest is easy. Just some contracts and payment terms. I put everything on Hugh Desmond’s account. After all, it’s his job as my father to pay for my wedding. He wouldn’t want the trustee to think he’s being a stingy asshole with his daughter.
An hour’s drive later, I’m at my penthouse. The second I step in, the magnificent view of Santa Monica Bay and the Pacific greets me from the other side of the floor-to-ceiling window.
“Home, sweet home,” I murmur. But this is more than a home—it’s a sanctuary. A place to be safe and let my guard down. I sigh as the neutral earth and sage tones calm my nerves.
I take off my heels, wriggling my toes on the cool wood floor, and grab a chilled bottle of Dom from the wine cellar.
After pouring a glass, I stand before the giant portrait on the wall facing the ocean.
It’s the only thing I’ve hung on this particular wall, painted a dusty mauve.
The shade reminded me of Mom’s favorite roses when I first saw it in the store.
In the photo, Mom and I stand in front of the central fountain of the main Whitmore mansion, where she, and then I, grew up.
She’s in a royal blue dress, and I’m in a white lacy one that makes me look like a little princess, and we’re smiling at the camera.
Pochi—the black mixed-breed puppy we rescued together when I was ten—sits between us, her eyes bright.
It was the happiest and most brilliant moment in my life. My eyes suddenly burn with tears…and this time they’re genuine.
Will I ever be that happy again? The question swirls in my head, then reaches into my chest and clenches my heart until it hurts.
My perfect happiness crashed and burned when Hugh’s mistress and their daughter burst into our lives. They killed my mother, and later my dog. Moved into Mom’s mansion and started to spend Mom’s money. Nothing’s ever been the same. And I’ll never forgive those who took my family from me.
I raise my glass. “To justice.”