Shattered illusions

Chapter 5

The next morning, the world behind Olivia’s windows shimmered with its usual illusion of calm glass towers gleaming under blue skies, busy lives chasing carefully curated dreams. But inside, Olivia sat perfectly still. Robe draped over her shoulders, heels already on, a tumbler of untouched whiskey in her hand.

She stared into the stillness of her private study, not just thinking, but planning.

She hadn’t slept, not a minute.

Not after what she had seen, Ethan asked. Together.

Plotting in plain sight, like she was nothing more than a target on board.

Her mind kept replaying their words, over and over,

“She won’t see it coming. “

“She breaks if pushed hard enough. “

They thought they still knew her; they had no idea.

The word sliced through her calm like razors.

But she didn’t scream.

She didn’t cry.

Olivia Cole had learned ago, how to sit with her anger, how to wear it like armor.

Now wasn’t the time for emotion.

Now she needed the truth.

By noon, she was dressed in a steel gray, confident, sharp suit, pointed heels, and a statement necklace that glittered like a collar of diamonds. A signal.

No more waiting.

No more silence.

She drove herself to the address Clara had uncovered days earlier, a modest condo tucked into the west end. The kind of place you chose when you didn’t want to be found.

Simon.

She hadn’t seen him since the day everything fell apart in the court. But she could still remember the way she looked at her as the judge read the decision, not with anger but with something far heavier.

Disbelief.

Like he couldn’t understand how she’d chosen survival over loyalty.

She knocked once, firm and steady.

The door opened halfway.

Simon stood there, older, leaner, his face sharper, like life had been chipping away at him ever since.

He looked like someone who hadn’t stopped running away from the past. And now it has finally caught up.

Liv. His voice was rough, almost empty.

I’m not here to play games, she said quietly but firmly. I just need to talk. Now.

He hesitated just for a second, then stepped back and opened the door, letting her in without another word.

The apartment was small and dimly lit, cluttered with old files, newspapers and a tangle of electronics that buzzed faintly in the background. It's messy, just lived in by someone who didn’t expect visitors.

Simon motioned to the couch, but Olivia didn’t move.

You still think you’re above the rest of us, huh? He muttered, only half joking.

I’ve had a hell of a week, she said, her voice calm but tired.

Simon leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, watching her carefully. Then brace yourself, he says quietly. Because what I’m about to tell you might just make it worse.

I already know you’re working with Alex.

Simon looked at her, startled, I’m not.

Her eyes didn’t move. I saw you, Simon. At the lounge two weeks ago. He was in a booth. You walked in right before he left.

Simon let out a dry, bitter laugh. You think that was a meeting? Liv, that wasn’t a reunion , that was a message. He paused, his voice lowering. He wanted to remind me of what happens to people who stay loyal to you.

A warning? Olivia’s voice was tight, but there was a flicker of confusion.

Simon nodded slowly. Yeah. I told him to leave you alone. Told him to let it die. You were never the villain, Liv.

Her arms dropped slightly from their tense fold. What are you talking about?

Simon looked down for a moment, then dragged a hand across his face, tired, worn, like someone who hadn’t laid any of this out loud in years.

Alex doesn’t want revenge . He wants control. Always has. He never got over you leaving. And he sure as hell never got over what happened to Dean.

The name landed with a weight neither of them could ignore.

And just like that, the silence between them wasn’t empty anymore . It was crowded with memories

Dean, she whispered, her voice tight with emotion. He is the one who went too far. He was going to destroy everything.

Simon’s expression darkened as he nodded slowly. You saved us that night. You saved me.

Olivia’s throat tightened. I saved myself.

He stepped closer, his voice low. Maybe. But there’s something you don’t know. Alex has something, evidence. From that night. Photos may be recorded. Something Dean hid before everything went to hell.

A chill swept through her, her breath catching. Her blood ran cold.

I burned everything, she said softly, almost to herself.

Not everything, Simon replied. Alex says he found it three months ago. That’s when he started showing up again. He claims he will use it, says he will ruin you if you don’t come clean .

Olivia’s eyes dropped to the floor. Her heart pounded in her chest.

I have a life now, she whispered. Children. A company. A name I built from nothing. And all of it and be taken away because of something I did when I was barely more than a kid.

Simon’s tone gentled; that’s what I tried to make him understand. We were just kids. But Alex, he doesn’t care. He thinks exposing you is justice.

She looked up suddenly, her voice shaky with fear. And Ethan? What does my husband think?

Simon paused, and the silence stretched.

Then, finally, he exhaled and said That’s what I came here to warn you about.

Back in Cassara, Olivia’s office felt colder than usual. The sleek furniture and soft lighting did nothing to ease the unease curling in her stomach.

Her assistant barely had a chance to announce Clara before Olivia cut in with a wave of her hand. Send her in.

Clara stepped through the door, but before she even sits, Olivia spoke.

We need to talk.

Clara paused, eyebrow raised. Is this about the surveillance?

Olivia didn’t hesitate; I found Ethan. He was meeting Alex. The two of them are working together. I don’t know what they are planning yet, but it’s not good.

Clara’s expression shifted, her mouth tightening. He lied to your face.

Olivia gave a slow, weary nod. Yes. He did.

I need you to dig into Ethan’s accounts, Olivia said, her voice urgent. Quietly look for offshore transfers, shell companies, anything that connects him to Alex Turner or Simon. I need to know how this runs.

Clara didn’t blink. You will have it by tomorrow.

Olivia leaned in, her eyes locked in Clara’s. And Clara?

Yes?

If this gets out, if even a whisper hits the press before I’m ready, I lose everything. My name, my company, my family. I need you with me on this. All the way.

Clara reached across the desk, placing her hand firmly over Olivia’s.

Always.

That night, Olivia sat across from Ethan at the dinner table, silently studying him.

He laughed easily with kids, chatted about his day at work and pressed a warm kiss to her cheek like everything was fine.

But she wasn’t fooled.

She watched the way his hands moved, the flicker in his eyes, the precise curve of his smile. Every motion felt rehearsed, carefully placed like lines in a play. And she is no longer part of the audience.

She was the opposition now.

Later, when the kids were asleep and the house had gone still, Olivia stepped out onto the terrace, the cool night air brushing against her skin. She pulled out her phone and scrolled to a number she hadn’t used in more than ten years.

No caller ID.

She hesitated only for a second before pressing the dial.

It rang three times before a voice answered, low and familiar.

You were told never to call this line again.

Olivia’s tone was calm, cold. I need something buried. Permanently.

There was a pause, then silence.

Then came the voice, steady and unreadable. How fast?

Immediately, Olivia said without hesitation.

Whatever Alex Turner has, photos, recordings, anything he’s planned to use, I want it gone. Erased. I don’t care how you do it. Just make it disappear.

There was a long pause on the other end.

I’ll see what’s possible, the voice finally said.

But Liv, moves like this? They always come with a price. One way or another.

Her voice turned to ice.

I’m not Liv, she said. Not anymore.

And with that, she ended the call.

Back inside, Olivia stood in front of the mirror, her fingers moving slowly as she took off her earrings.

The woman staring back at her wasn’t the perfect picture version the world knew; she wasn’t flawless or untouched by time.

She was tougher now. Sharpened by pain. Still standing.

The truth hasn’t surfaced yet; it was still hidden, deep beneath years of silence and strategy.

But tonight, something shifted.

She realized she didn’t have to keep running from it.

She had to face it. Own it.

Because in the end, the only thing more powerful than a lie was the woman who refused to be broken by the truth.