Chapter 7
When Olivia arrived home after her long shift at the hospital, she was still grappling with whether to attend tomorrow's event. But upon entering her room, she realized it was no longer up for negotiation. Her adoptive mother had made sure she had no excuse not to attend.
In her closet hung a stunning pink dress with a deep V-neckline and daring side cutouts that revealed just the right amount of skin. It was paired with gorgeous shoes in a matching color, featuring three-inch heels.
Olivia could only sigh. She hated birthday parties, really hated them, ever since she was fourteen years old. But after a long day of work, an argument with her overbearing mother was the last thing on her mind.
She hung up her coat and changed into a comfortable t-shirt and cotton shorts before dragging her feet to the dining room, where Mr. and Mrs. Hilton were already seated.
The aroma of delicious food filled the air, but she barely had an appetite. She occupied her usual seat and helped herself to a small serving of grilled salmon. It used to be her favorite, but it tasted bland on her tongue.
Mrs. Hilton's elegant brows arched as she looked at her. "Did you see what I left in your room?"
Olivia kept her eyes fixed on her plate, counting the seconds before she had to answer. One... two... three... She looked up and responded with a smile. “Yes, I did.”
"The dress is beautiful, isn't it?"
"It's lovely," Olivia agreed, just as she always did. It was easier this way. Agreeing to everything meant no arguments, no disappointed looks, and no hurt feelings.
“You have no idea the trouble I went through to get that dress. It will look great on you tomorrow.” Mrs. Hilton took a sip of her wine before adding, “Well, your father and I will be coming with you to the birthday party.”
The spoon Olivia was holding nearly slipped from her fingers.
In the ten years she had lived with the Hiltons, they rarely attended social gatherings that weren't related to business or charity, especially birthdays, because they deemed ‘they're beneath them.’ This wasn't normal.
They didn't just change their minds about social events, especially not ones they considered frivolous.
Mr. Hilton, who had been quietly observing them, cleared his throat. For the very first time since Olivia sat down, he spoke, “Well, speaking of birthdays, you're already twenty-four. Isn't it time you got married?"
Olivia felt her fingers go numb around her fork.
"Your father is right," her adoptive mother agreed as she set down her wine glass. “You are old enough to settle down."
But Olivia didn't want to get married. She'd rather die than trap someone in a loveless marriage and live a miserable life. She wanted to tell them that, but her throat closed up just when she thought she finally had the courage to speak.
Olivia pulled herself together. “But Mom… the demands of my career are too high. Just today, I had to assist in three back-to-back surgeries. There will be more soon… My career needs my full attention.”
"There will always be patients, Olivia. Always another surgery, another emergency, another blah blah blah. But we won't be here forever," Mrs. Hilton added, pressing her lips into a thin, tight line.
She knew exactly what words to say to make Olivia feel bad.
“We don’t need your opinion, Olivia,” Mr. Hilton spoke in a chilling tone. “Once we say you'll get married, you'll get married! Your fate is in our hands.”
The utensils clinked on the table, and Mrs. Hilton turned to her husband. “I lost my appetite, Simon. Let's retire for the evening.”
Mr. Hilton nodded and abandoned his seat. The two walked out of the dining area. Olivia just watched until they disappeared behind the door; only then did she release the breath she had been holding.
Olivia felt her appetite return once she was alone. She resumed eating as if nothing had happened. Despite all the unpleasant things that had happened to her today, she slept soundly that night.
—
The clock on her wall showed 6:15 PM, and Olivia felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Clayton's birthday party would start at 7.
She had spent the last hour carefully styling her hair into soft waves that cascaded down her back—her mother’s order, because she said she looked good in that. But Olivia knew better; that hairstyle made her look even more like Caroline.
“Are you done yet?” Mrs. Hilton's voice sounded from the other side of the door.
"Just a second!"
Olivia applied the final touches of makeup, then stood in front of her full-length mirror and smiled—a smile that barely reached her eyes.
She looked like she had stepped right out of a fashion magazine.
The pink dress hugged her curves in just the right places, and the deep V-neckline looked daring but held a subtle elegance.
Her makeup was flawless—smoky eyes that made her green and blue eyes pop, cheeks dusted with a rosy glow, and lips painted in bold scarlet.
But no matter how good she looked, her eyes appeared dull—they were the eyes of someone who'd never had her freedom.
“Hurry, we're leaving!”
Olivia sighed. Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she followed Mr. and Mrs. Hilton to their sleek black Mercedes.
The driver held the door open, and she slid into the back seat, careful not to wrinkle her dress.
The drive to the Bradford Estate took thirty minutes. She wished it had taken longer so she had enough time to compose herself.
The car pulled up to iron gates that opened automatically. A line of luxury vehicles stretched ahead—Bentleys, Rolls Royces, and other cars that could make anyone faint with their price.
"Remember to smile," Mrs. Hilton said, checking her reflection in a compact mirror. "Mayor Thompson will be here tonight with his wife. I heard the Queen's nephew will also be attending."
Olivia nodded absently. She knew the guest list would be filled with the city's elite. It was better not to stand out.
The car came to a stop at the entrance. A valet opened their door, and they stepped out onto a red carpet.
The grand foyer was already packed with guests. Olivia recognized a famous supermodel who'd just landed the cover of Vogue, chatting with some fashion designers. In another corner, a shipping billionaire was deep in conversation with the CEO of a tech company.
She grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter and downed it in one go. It was going to be a long night.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Captain Clayton Bradford, the birthday celebrant!"
The announcement echoed through the grand foyer, and Olivia's heart stuttered to a stop. The room fell into an expectant hush as Clayton Bradford descended the sweeping marble staircase.
He moved with the easy confidence that made her breath stop. His tall, athletic frame was wrapped in an impeccably tailored black suit. Dashing. Dangerous. Gorgeous. Those words flashed in her mind as she looked at him.
A waiter appeared with another tray of champagne. Olivia grabbed a glass, ignoring the disapproving look Mrs. Hilton shot her from across the room. She drank the champagne to ease her throat that had gone dry.
The crowd burst into applause, and Clayton's lips curved into his signature smile—the one that had graced countless magazine covers. It was a smile that could charm and melt hearts.
"Thank you all for coming…” His voice carried effortlessly across the room, deep and smooth like fine wine.
Olivia took an involuntary step backward, and that's when she collided with a man's broad chest. She lost track of Clayton's speech when her eyes landed on a familiar pair of eyes.
Caleb?
“O-Olivia?” He seemed surprised at first, but his eyelid lowered, a wave of strong emotion crossing his eyes.
He stood in front of her, looking exactly like the boy who'd stolen her heart in high school, just older. More handsome. His blonde hair still fell slightly into his eyes the way it used to, and his smile, that gentle smile, made nostalgic memories flash in her mind.
"I've looked everywhere for you!” Caleb crossed the small distance between them and grabbed her hand tightly, like a drowning man clutching at a lifeline.
“I’ve spent the past six years thinking of you…
Six years wondering if you were happy, if you were safe, if you ever thought about me the way I thought about you every single day. "
Olivia felt her head spin. She was lost and confused. She didn't know how to respond. "Caleb, I—"
"Please," he cut in, "please just let me say this or else I would regret it until the day I die.” His thumb traced circles on her palm, a gesture so achingly familiar it made her chest hurt.
His next words came out in a rush, like he'd been holding them in for too long.
"Everything I said that day at our graduation—about loving Celine—was all lies. Every single word was a lie.”
"Then why…?" The question escaped her in a broken whisper. She still wanted to know the truth even after all these years. “Why did you lie to me? Why did you have to break my heart so severely?”
"Mr. Hilton came to me two weeks before graduation. He knew about my scholarship, knew it was my only chance at university. He told me if I didn't end things with you, he'd make sure I lost it. I refused at first—God, Olivia, I refused because you meant everything to me."
Caleb's voice cracked, and she could see the raw pain in his eyes, still fresh after all these years. "But when he said you'd lose everything because of me, that the Hiltons would cut you off if I didn't let go, that you'd end up hating me for destroying your future, I knew I had to let you go.”
"I worked hard, thinking maybe one day I'd be worthy of you. Now I'm the CEO of my own company. I have everything now—money, power, success. Everything they said I didn't have back then. Everything they said you deserved."
He pulled her closer, his forehead resting against hers. The familiar scent of his cologne made her dizzy with memories.
"This time, I swear I'll protect you. I won't let anyone tear us apart again. I don't care if I have to fight the whole world—I’ll fight for you. Please tell me it's not too late."
Olivia felt her heart breaking. Her adoptive parents had done worse than she thought. They hadn't just manipulated her life, but those around her suffered as well.
She opened her mouth but before she could speak, a strong hand gripped her arm. She was yanked backward, away from Caleb's hold.
Suddenly, she was staring into Clayton Bradford's dark eyes. His face was unreadable as he deliberately sank down to one knee. The motion was smooth, practiced, perfect. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. Inside was a diamond solitaire ring.
"Olivia Hilton, will you marry me?”