THE LOST VALENTINE

CHAPTER 4

Olivia's POV

The phone felt like ice in my hand as I stared at Catherine Valentine's number.

"My name is Catherine Valentine. I believe we need to discuss your inheritance."

I pressed the phone tighter to my ear, my other hand gripping the lobby wall for support. People rushed past me, their faces blurred, their voices distant. Everything narrowed to this moment, this impossible claim.

"I think you have the wrong person," I managed.

"You're Olivia Morgan. Born twenty five years ago. Raised by Martha Chen after your parents died. You have a crescent shaped birthmark on your left shoulder blade."

My blood turned cold. Nobody knew about that mark. I kept it hidden, even from Marcus during our three years together.

"How do you know that?"

"Because your mother had the same mark. Eleanor Valentine. My niece." Catherine's voice softened. "Olivia, you're not who you think you are. Your real name is Olivia Valentine. You're the sole heir to a fifteen billion dollar fortune. And you're in terrible danger."

The lobby spun. I sank onto a nearby bench before my legs gave out.

"This is crazy. My parents died in a car accident. I'm nobody special. I work at a flower shop."

"You worked at a flower shop. Past tense. Because right now, you're standing in Pearson Industries after interviewing with Harvey Pearson." She paused. "Don't look so shocked. I've had people watching you for weeks. Making sure you were really who we thought you were."

"You've been watching me?"

"Protecting you. There's a difference." Papers rustled on her end. "Your parents were murdered twenty five years ago. You were taken, hidden by Martha to keep you safe. We've been searching for you ever since."

I pressed my free hand to my stomach, feeling the slight swell there. The baby. Harvey's baby. Now this woman was telling me I was an heiress worth billions.

"Why now? Why contact me today?"

"Because you're pregnant. Because you just walked into Harvey Pearson's office. Because the people who killed your parents are still out there, and if they discover you're alive, they'll come for you too." Catherine's tone turned urgent. "I need you to meet me. Tonight. Seven o'clock. I'll send you an address. Bring any documentation you have. Birth certificates, photos, anything from your childhood."

"And if I don't come?"

"Then you'll spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, wondering if your parents' killers are coming for you. Wondering if your child will be safe. Is that what you want?"

No. God, no.

"I'll be there," I whispered.

The line went dead.

I sat on that bench for ten minutes, trying to process everything. My whole life was a lie. Martha wasn't my aunt. My parents were murdered. I was worth fifteen billion dollars.

And someone wanted me dead.

My phone buzzed with a text. An address in the wealthy district. The kind of neighborhood where people like me only went to clean houses or deliver flowers.

I looked down at the contracts in my lap. Harvey's employment agreement. His engagement proposal. Two hundred thousand a year had seemed like a fortune an hour ago.

Now it felt like pocket change.

Did I still need his offer? Did I need anything from him at all?

My hand moved to my stomach again. The baby complicated everything. Harvey deserved to know about his child, money or no money. But did I want to tie myself to him through a fake engagement when I apparently had billions of my own?

The elevator dinged. Harvey stepped out, his phone to his ear, his expression dark. He saw me and stopped mid-sentence.

"I'll call you back." He ended the call and crossed the lobby in quick strides. "Olivia? What are you still doing here? Are you alright?"

"I need to tell you something." I stood, clutching the contracts. "About why I really need to think about your offer."

"Did you get a better job somewhere else?" His jaw tightened. "Because if this is about money, I can negotiate."

"It's not about money. Well, it is. But not the way you think." I took a breath. "I just got a phone call. From a woman named Catherine Valentine. She says I'm the heir to the Valentine fortune. Fifteen billion dollars. She says my real parents were murdered and I've been in hiding my whole life."

Harvey went very still. His face drained of color.

"Say that again."

"Catherine Valentine. She wants to meet me tonight. She has proof that I'm Eleanor Valentine's daughter. The lost heiress everyone thought was dead."

"Jesus Christ." Harvey ran a hand through his hair. "The Valentines. You're sure she said Valentine?"

"Yes. Why? Do you know them?"

He looked at me for a long moment, something complicated crossing his features. Fear. Recognition. Something else I couldn't name.

"My father and Richard Valentine were business partners. Best friends. They built their empires together." His voice was rough. "When Richard was murdered, my father spent millions trying to find out who did it. Trying to find Richard's missing daughter. It destroyed him. He died five years ago still looking for answers."

The world tilted again. Our families were connected. Our tragedies intertwined.

"Harvey, I don't understand what's happening."

"Neither do I. But I know one thing." He stepped closer, his hand cupping my face. "You can't go to that meeting alone. If someone killed your parents, if they're still out there, you're walking into a trap."

"Catherine said she's been protecting me. Watching me."

"Or she's been hunting you." His thumb brushed my cheekbone. "Let me come with you. Please. My father would want me to protect Richard's daughter. And I want to protect you."

The intensity in his eyes made my breath catch. This wasn't about business anymore. This was personal.

"Okay," I whispered. "Come with me."

He pulled out his phone and made three quick calls. Security. His lawyer. Someone else whose name I didn't catch. Within minutes, he'd arranged a full security detail and background checks on Catherine Valentine.

"We leave at six thirty," he said. "That gives us time to prepare. To make sure this isn't a setup."

"And if it is?"

"Then whoever is behind this will learn that you're not alone anymore. You have me. And I don't lose."

The certainty in his voice should have reassured me. Instead, it sent chills down my spine.

Because if Harvey Pearson, billionaire CEO, ruthless businessman, was this worried about a simple meeting, then I was walking into something far more dangerous than I'd imagined.

My phone buzzed again. Unknown number. A photo this time.

I opened it and my heart stopped.

Aunt Martha. Tied to a chair. Blood on her face. Terror in her eyes.

Below the photo, a message.

"Come to the meeting alone. Tell anyone and she dies. We're watching."

I looked up at Harvey, my hand shaking as I showed him the screen.

His expression went deadly cold.

"Change of plans," he said quietly. "We're not going to that meeting."

"But Martha—"

"Is bait. This whole thing is a setup. Catherine Valentine, the inheritance, all of it." He pulled me toward the exit. "Whoever killed your parents just made their first mistake. They showed their hand too soon. And now we're going to destroy them."

"How can you be so sure it's a trap?"

Harvey's smile was razor sharp and utterly terrifying.

"Because Catherine Valentine died three months ago. Whoever you talked to on that phone isn't her."