Chapter 4
1111 Words
The next morning arrived like a whisper, quiet, gray, and almost still.
Olivia stood at the window, her eyes fixed on the city below as if searching for something hidden beneath its calm surface. The skyline looked still, untouched. But inside her, a quiet storm was gathering, unseen but impossible to ignore.
Her phone vibrated.
A message from Clara:
Just confirmed the investor round table for Friday, Clara said, then hesitated. Also, someone’s been asking questions about your college years. Thought I should mention it. Should I be worried?
Olivia’s fingers hovered over the screen, frozen in hesitation, caught between instinct and the weight of everything unspoken.
“No. Handle it.”
She hesitated. Then typed:
“Discreetly.”
She tossed the phone onto her desk.
The ghosts of her past were no longer hiding in the shadows; they were knocking at the glass. Alex. Simon. And now strangers digging into her academic records? What exactly were they hoping to find?
More importantly, who had sent them?
She crossed the room to her cabinet and unlocked the bottom drawer. Beneath a stack of old files and worn documents lay a faded Manila folder, its edges curled with age. Written in her careful handwriting. “LM”
Liv Matthews.
Her former self.
She hadn’t touched the folder for years. Just lifting the flap brought a wave of memories she’d spent so long trying to forget. Inside were pieces of life she no longer claimed, a fake student ID, a faded rental receipt from a shared apartment she walked away from, a transcript from a community college she never finished. And at the very back, worn at the edges, was a photo.
Four people. Smiling. Arms linked like they belonged to each other, like family.
Her, Alex. Simon and Dean.
She almost looked happy in it.
Almost.
That evening, Ethan came home early, a rare thing lately, and not without its weight.
Olivia was on the terrace, sipping wine in the silence, the city lights flickering in the distance. Ethan joined her without a word, placing his briefcase down beside him with a quiet thud.
“How was the office?” he asked, loosening his tie, his voice casual.
“Predictably chaotic,” she replied, her eyes fixed on the skyline, not bothering to look his way.
You seem far away lately, he said softly, watching her carefully.
She didn’t answer.
After a pause, he added, Is this about last night? Me missing dinner?
Olivia turned to face him. Her voice was calm but pointed. What were you doing?
Ethan blinked. “What?”
“You said you had a board call.”
“I did.”
“Who else was on it?”
He frowned, caught off guard. Olivia, what’s going on? He asked, his voice low with concern.
She didn’t push, not yet. But her instincts rarely failed her and something didn’t feel right.
I’ve been feeling watched. Like someone’s following me, she said quietly. As if they are waiting for me to slip up.
Ethan came closer. You think it’s a business rival?
She hesitated.
I don’t know yet, she said carefully, measuring her words. But if you know something or if someone’s approached you, this is the time to tell me.
He met her eyes and held her gaze , I haven’t, he said quietly. I swear.
But there it was, a flicker. A hesitation in his voice, so quick it might have slipped past anyone else. But not her.
She offered a soft smile, then leaned in and kissed his cheek. Good, she whispered, because this house only works when there are no lies between us.
As she turned away, her mind was already spinning.
You’re lying to me, Ethan. The question is about what?
Two days later, she asked Clara to follow him.
It was a bold move, but discretion was Clara’s specialty. She didn’t ask questions. She simply nodded and made the necessary calls.
That night, Olivia sat alone in her car, parked on a quiet street near the marina. The evening air was heavy, thick with salt, silence and secrets waiting to surface.
Clara’s text lit up her screen :
He’s at Piermont Lounge. Private booth. Not alone.
Olivia’s chest tightened.
She stepped out of the car, handed the valet a crisp bill without a word and made her way through the side entrance. The back corridor was dim and quiet, perfect for not being seen.
Low lights. Leather seats. Soft jazz floated through the air.
Olivia slipped into a shadow corner, just out of sight.
There he was, Ethan.
And across from him, calm and unmistakable…. Alex Turner.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The past and present were no longer colliding; they were conspiring.
They weren’t arguing, not even tensed.
Their conversation was calm
Measured Strategic.
From where she stood, Olivia could only catch pieces. Fragment of a dialogue she was never meant to hear. But what she saw was enough to make her blood run cold.
“…She won’t see it coming…”
“…Timing has to be perfect…”
“…She’s strong, but she breaks if pushed hard enough…”
Olivia’s breath caught as the words hit her like a blow. Her heart pounded against her ribs, the room suddenly tilting beneath her.
She backed away slowly, careful not to make a sound.
Then she turned and slipped out the way she came, unseen but changed.
Back in the car, Olivia gripped the steering wheel, her hands trembling.
This wasn’t about ghost from her past. Ethan was part of it.
And if she didn’t move quickly, if she didn’t outplay them , everything she sacrificed, every calculated risk she took to bury Liv Matthews, would come crashing down around her.
Later that night, Olivia sat in her home office, the only light coming from the screen in front of her desk. She stared at her reflection on the dark glass of the window.
The world knew Olivia Cole as graceful, fierce and untouchable.
But the woman staring back now? She looked cornered. , fractured. And beneath the surface, something was building, slow, steady and untouchable. Fury
With a deep breath, she opened a folder on her laptop that she hadn’t touched in nearly seven years. Encrypted. Hidden.
It was labeled: “Fallback.”
Inside were blueprints for escape, carefully laid out plans, hidden connections, offshore accounts and discreet lawyers. Everything she’d ever need to vanish without a trace.
But disappearing wasn’t the plan .
Not this time.
This time, she would stay.
She would fight.
If Ethan and Alex wanted a war, they had just chosen the wrong woman to betray.
- Writer
