Chapter 4: Confrontations and Severed Ties
1663 Words
Chapter 4: Confrontations and Severed Ties
(Garrett's POV)
I led Olivia Reed carefully through the hospital corridors, maintaining a respectful distance while ensuring she didn't stumble. The drug still coursing through her system made her steps unsteady.
We reached the emergency procedure room, and Dr. Wilson immediately rose from his desk, surprise evident on his face.
"Professor Stone, what brings you here today?" His voice carried both respect and curiosity.
I kept my tone measured, though urgency underlined my words. "I have something to handle. This is a friend of mine. She accidentally ingested something harmful. Please help her with the cleansing procedure."
Dr. Wilson's gaze flickered briefly to Olivia, noting her flushed skin and glassy eyes. Understanding dawned quickly on his face—he'd seen enough drugging cases to recognize the signs.
"Of course, Professor. Right this way," he said, gesturing us inside without hesitation.
I watched as they prepared for the gastric lavage, my jaw tightening imperceptibly. Whoever had done this to her would pay, but first, her wellbeing took priority.
The procedure would be unpleasant but necessary. I stepped outside to give her privacy, my back against the wall, arms crossed as I waited.
My thoughts drifted to her remarkable composure throughout this ordeal. Most victims would have broken down, but she had fought back with unexpected ferocity. There was something different about her tonight—a steel I hadn't noticed before.
Minutes stretched into a half hour before the door finally opened.
Olivia emerged looking drained, her face ashen and limbs trembling slightly. Without thinking, I moved forward and carefully lifted her down from the operating table.
Her body tensed at my touch—understandable after what she'd just experienced. Before she could voice any objection, I had already settled her gently into a nearby chair, maintaining a professional distance afterward.
"Rest here for a bit. I'll get you some water," I said, turning away to fetch it.
I returned with a cup of warm water, offering it with a respectful nod before stepping back. "This will help settle your stomach."
She accepted it with a small grateful smile that seemed to brighten her exhausted features momentarily.
"I need to speak with Officer Parker about the next steps. I'll be back shortly," I said, then quietly left her to recover in peace.
As I walked away, I couldn't help glancing back once. She sat there, small and vulnerable yet somehow unbowed, sipping the water slowly as color gradually returned to her cheeks.
(Olivia's POV)
The gastric lavage had been brutal, leaving my throat raw and my body drained. But as I sat alone in the quiet corridor, I felt a strange peace washing over me.
The warm water Garrett had given me soothed my irritated throat. Such a simple gesture, yet filled with genuine concern—so different from the false kindness I'd grown accustomed to with the Blakes.
Footsteps approached, and I tensed instinctively.
Ethan Blake stood before me, fully sober now. The angry red marks from our earlier struggle were clearly visible on his neck, though he seemed determined to ignore them.
His gaze swept over me, lingering on my bare arms where goosebumps had formed in the chilly hospital air. Without a word, he removed his suit jacket and draped it carefully over my shoulders.
"Don't catch a chill, Liv," he said softly. "You always get hives when you're cold."
Three years of intimacy had taught him my body's every reaction. In my previous life, such thoughtfulness would have melted my defenses.
Now, I only felt revulsion.
I shrugged it off immediately, pushing myself upright against the wall for support. With deliberate contempt, I tossed the jacket into a nearby trash can.
Ethan's expression froze. "Liv..."
Before he could continue, I kicked the trash can lightly—not with force, but with unmistakable disdain. A bitter smile twisted my lips.
"I was blind before, digging through trash to find myself a boyfriend," I said coldly. "I'm a clean girl, I won't let garbage dirty me."
The words sliced through him visibly. His jaw tightened, eyes flashing with hurt and anger.
This was not the docile Olivia he knew—the grateful orphan who'd accepted whatever scraps of affection he deigned to offer. The air between us grew thick with tension.
Officer Parker's arrival broke the standoff. He approached with papers in hand, his expression serious.
I straightened immediately. "Officer Parker, are the results out?"
Ethan shifted uneasily behind me, as if already anticipating what was coming.
Officer Parker nodded. "Miss Reed, your blood test is positive. But Mr. Blake's blood has no trace of toxins."
The implications hit me like a physical blow. Ethan hadn't been drugged—merely tipsy from alcohol. A man accustomed to business drinking wouldn't be incapacitated by a few glasses.
More damning still, a truly intoxicated man wouldn't have had the coordination or mental clarity to attempt what Ethan had tried to do.
Ice flooded my veins. Without hesitation, I strode forward and slapped him hard across the face.
The c***k echoed in the corridor. His head snapped sideways from the force, a red handprint blooming on his cheek. My palm stung from the impact.
"Ethan Blake, you're despicable!" I hissed.
He didn't try to defend himself. His fists clenched at his sides, voice hoarse with what sounded like genuine remorse.
"Liv, I'm sorry..."
With the truth exposed, he could no longer hide behind excuses. When he'd found me drugged and helpless in that hotel room, he'd seen an opportunity—like a predator spotting wounded prey.
I laughed bitterly. "Save your apologies. You're the Blake family's precious son, and I'm just a foster girl. I'm not worthy of your remorse."
My words seemed to wound him more deeply than the slap had. Pain flickered across his handsome features.
"Liv, hit me if you want, but don't belittle yourself like this," he pleaded.
I shoved the lab report against his chest with contempt. "Of all the Blakes, you're the best at acting."
Then I turned sharply to Officer Parker, my voice gaining strength with each word. "Officer Parker, I want to file a case. Investigate this to the very end!"
Having died once before, I feared nothing now. The Blake and Frost families would finally face consequences for their actions.
Officer Parker nodded solemnly. "I'll drive you to the station to file your statement."
As we walked away, I felt Ethan's eyes burning into my back, but I didn't look back once.
The ride to the police station was quiet. I stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past, feeling oddly detached from everything.
As we approached the station, I spotted a familiar couple waiting near the entrance—a portly man in an expensive suit and a woman draped in purple fur, both radiating entitlement.
Victor Blake and Margaret Chen. My so-called foster parents.
The sight of them made my stomach turn. Victor's belly protruded obscenely, bouncing slightly as he paced. Margaret stood beside him, her jewelry glinting ostentatiously under the streetlights.
I turned to Officer Parker. "Officer Parker, do you have gum? I need to freshen the air."
He rummaged through the compartments before producing a mint candy from the passenger seat.
"Will this do?" he offered.
"Good enough," I replied, taking it gratefully.
I unwrapped the candy and popped it into my mouth, ready to crunch it in frustration. But Officer Parker's casual comment stopped me.
"Didn't expect Professor Stone to like mint candy too."
The mention of Garrett made me pause. I let the mint dissolve slowly on my tongue instead, its cool freshness spreading gradually.
In my mind's eye, Garrett's face appeared—his steady gaze, the careful gentleness of his hands as he'd bandaged my wound. So different from the men I'd known before.
Outside the car, Margaret noticed us first, nudging Victor sharply.
"Isn't that Officer Parker?" she hissed.
Victor hurried over, his substantial stomach jiggling with each step. Officer Parker lowered his window but remained seated, acknowledging them with professional detachment.
Victor plastered on his most ingratiating smile. "Officer Parker, I'm Victor Blake, Olivia's foster father. I apologize for the trouble our little girl caused you tonight. You've worked hard. Here, have a smoke to relax."
He produced a sealed cigarette box with practiced smoothness.
(Officer Parker's POV)
I took the box, immediately noting its unusual weight. This wasn't just cigarettes—the heft suggested cash, likely tens of thousands.
A bribe, then. How predictable.
I smiled coolly. "Good cigarettes, Mr. Blake, very generous."
Victor's expression brightened momentarily before I continued, my tone hardening.
"But I've quit smoking." I handed the box back firmly.
Victor's smile faltered, though he quickly recovered. I could practically see him cursing the "quack professor" in his mind.
"If you don't smoke, maybe your hardworking colleagues would enjoy some," he persisted.
My patience thinned. "Serving the people is our duty. Not taking a penny from the public is our iron rule. Are you trying to harm me, Mr. Blake?"
The implication was clear: attempting to bribe an officer was a serious offense.
Victor's face reddened slightly as he retreated, shoving the rejected bribe unceremoniously into Margaret's designer purse.
Changing tactics, he adopted a more conciliatory tone. "Officer Parker, can I talk to Olivia for a moment?"
I glanced at the back seat, where Olivia sat watching the exchange with cold detachment. She gave a slight nod.
I unlocked the door, then leaned back in my seat and lit a cigarette—contradicting my earlier claim about quitting. The irony wasn't lost on Victor, whose eye twitched visibly.
But he wisely kept his irritation in check as Olivia stepped out of the car.
(Olivia's POV)
Victor led me to the sidewalk, far enough from Officer Parker to speak privately. His fatherly facade dropped instantly, replaced by the commanding tone he used with servants.
"Olivia, withdraw the case," he ordered. "You've made enough fuss. Time to stop now."
- Writer
