OLIVIA
Racing heart. Sweaty palms. A game of confidence with Mr. Blackwood.
I folded my arms and leaned back in my chair, feigning ease. I couldn't let him see how nervous I was—I needed him to believe every word of my story.
"Christian told me what his mother went through just because she was like me," I said, meeting his gaze. "After his father married her." I let the words linger, watching for a reaction. "He said he wanted to protect me from that."
To my surprise, Mr. Blackwood chuckled, settling back in his chair. "Everyone knows what happened to Christian's mother," he scoffed. "She was never accepted into the family. Anyone could easily pay any journalist to expose the full story."
I clenched my fists beneath the table, forcing myself to stay composed. "I didn't expect you to
