Olivia’s POV
I woke late the next morning, sunlight streaming through the tall windows in golden sheets. Lucas was already gone again, but this time there was no note, no trace of him save for the faint scent of his cologne still clinging to the pillow.
The memory of last night returned in a rush—Emily’s journal, Ellison’s warning, the way the words had seared into me like a brand.
“His heart is mine, even if duty binds him otherwise.”
The sentence looped through my head, each repetition heavier, sharper.
I slipped from bed and knelt at the mattress, pulling the leather-bound journal from its hiding place. My fingers hovered over the cover for a long time before opening it again.
Her handwriting stared back at me, each line precise, elegant, almost mocking.
“…I saw the way he looked
