Chapter 105
OLIVIA’S POV
My fingers tapped against the screen of my phone in frustration as I typed into the search bar for the third time.
“Can a pregnant woman drink wine?”
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I didn’t know why I kept searching for it, like the answer would suddenly change just because I was desperate. Maybe I was hoping for some miracle loophole in the rules. The truth was, I hadn’t had a proper glass of wine in weeks, and it was starting to eat at me. Everything lately felt tense–tight. A single glass might’ve helped me loosen up, feel human again.
But as the page loaded, the same bold warning popped up yet again..
À clear, non–negotiable NO. No wine. No champagne. No cocktails. Not even the tiniest celebratory sip. Alcohol was off–limits during pregnancy.
I let out a small, dry chuckle and leaned against the kitchen counter, my shoulders sagging. “Damn,” I muttered under my breath. My eyes drifted to the cold bottle I had already placed on the counter, the glass sitting there waiting like it was mocking me. I stared at it long enough to imagine how good that first sip might’ve felt sliding down my throat.
With a reluctant sigh, I picked it up and placed it back in the fridge, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary. It was ridiculous how something so small could feel like such a loss.
As if on cue, I heard footsteps coming from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see Adrian walk into the kitchen. He looked calm, like someone who’d had a full eight hours of sleep, unlike me.
I straightened up a bit, remembering last night at the cinema. That moment when he actually flinched–like, visibly flinched–at the ghost girl in white. The memory pulled a grin from me. If there was one thing that could lighten my mood, it was teasing Adrian.
He opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, giving the wine bottle a quick glance. “Wine this early in the morning? Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he twisted the cap off the water.
“That’s because I’m not scared to have a drink in the morning,” I said, turning to face him fully, my arms folded across my chest. “Speaking of scared, I honestly didn’t think anything could scare you… until last night. Who knew all it took was a ghost girl in a white dress to turn you into a baby?”
He took a sip of water and gave me a dry look. “It wasn’t scary… it was just creepy.”
I stepped closer, tilting my head mockingly. “Oh, come on. Do you want me to leave the nightlight on for you tonight? Or maybe a flashlight under your pillow, just in case?”
He rolled his eyes. “No one’s laughing, Olivia.”
“I am,” I said with a smug grin.
He looked like he was trying to hold back a smile, but then his expression shifted. His jaw tightened slightly, and the playful spark in his eyes dulled.
“There’s something else we need to talk about,” he said, his voice a little lower, a little heavier.
I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. The teasing mood evaporated just like that.
“Okay…” I said slowly, watching his face. “What is it?”
He hesitated for a second, as if choosing his words carefully.
The atmosphere shifted from banter to something more serious. I had no idea what he was about to say
“Your dad is out of the hospital,” Adrian said calmly, but there was an underlying tension in his voice. “And I know he’s not your real father, but… You should still go see him before the worst happens.”
I let out a long, tired sigh and turned away, gripping the counter as I steadied my thoughts. His words hit a nerve
“I’m never going to see those people again,” I said sharply, trying to keep my voice steady. “And I don’t need to explain to you why.” I turned to face him fully now. “And before what worst happens? What could possibly happen to him again?”
That made him pause.
There was a subtle shift in his expression, something unreadable flickered in his eyes. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took another sip from his water bottle as if it would give him more time to think–or maybe avoid the conversation altogether. Then his phone buzzed, and he immediately looked down at it. His brows tightened as he read the message, and without saying another word, he walked out of the kitchen.
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11:36 AM
Chapter 105
No response. No explanation.
Just silence.
+20
I stood there for a few seconds, confused and frustrated. What did he mean by “before the worst happens“? Was there something I didn’t know? Did he mean another stroke? Death? Why was he being so cryptic?
With my heart starting to beat a little faster, I followed him out of the kitchen, determined to get answers.
And that’s when I saw her.
Standing at the front door like a damn scene from a soap opera–Isadora.
Just her name made my blood boil. It had been a while since I’d last seen her in person, but her presence was like a slap to the face. Every ounce of rage, betrayal, and humiliation I’d swallowed resurfaced the moment our eyes locked.
Why was she here? now
I glanced at Adrian, who didn’t seem surprised by her presence. He simply opened the door wider and stepped aside, allowing her inside. Like it was normal. Like this wasn’t the same woman who had made my life hell. But why would he care about that
She walked in gracefully, like she owned the place, her heels clicking against the tiles. Her eyes met mine, and that fake, polished smile tugged at her lips. But I could see right through it. Underneath that mask of courtesy was the same jealousy, the same bitterness, the same venom she always
carried.
If she thought I couldn’t see the fire behind her eyes, she was wrong. And if she thought her hatred could match mine, she was sorely mistaken.
She stood in front of me for a moment, her head tilted slightly, examining me like she wanted to say something. I clenched my fists, the urge to slap that smug look off her face growing stronger by the second. But I didn’t. I was stronger now. Smarter. And she wasn’t worth losing my control.
Without saying a single word, she finally turned on her heel and walked toward the guest room, her hips swaying with that fake confidence. Good. Let her stay in the guest room like a well–trained dog on a leash. Let her watch what she’ll never have again.
She is my main target now—and I swear, on the life of my unborn child, I will tear her down piece by piece. I will make her cry like I cried, scream like I screamed. I will make her feel the loneliness, the betrayal, and the cold pit of despair I was thrown into.
Everything she has, everything she cherishes, will crumble beneath her feet by the time I’m done. Her pride, her power, her image–it will all turn to ash.
Now it’s just a matter of time.
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