Outside His Shadow

Chapter 21: The Breath Before the Gallop

Olivia's POV

The glass of lemon water Elena pressed into my hand was the first thing I’d tasted since the incident last night. I didn't even remember her coming into the room. I was just laying there, envelopd in sadness, when she sat on the edge of my bed and looked at me like I was a puzzle she was finally ready to solve.

"Drink," she commanded. "You look like you’ve been breathing smoke for twelve hours."

I took a sip, the cold citrus stinging the back of my throat. "Michael talked to you."

"He didn't have to," Elena said, her voice dry and stripped of any pity. "I saw him in the hallway. He looks like a man who just realized he’s been standing on a trapdoor. But forget him. We’re leaving."

"Leaving? The meetings start in—"

"I don’t care about the meetings. I’m taking you riding. Julian and Miller are buried in the library with Michael, and it’s the perfect time to disappear." She leaned in, her gaze softening just enough to be human. "I heard about Sloane’s little performance. Michael told me she claimed you hit her."

I looked down at my knuckles, half-expecting them to be bruised. "I didn't. I wanted to, but I didn't."

Elena let out a short, sharp laugh that actually made me flinch. "Of course you didn't. Sloane is desperate, Olivia. She’s like a cornered animal realizing the hunter has lost interest. That move she made? It wasn't power. It was the last-ditch effort of a woman who knows her time is up. It’s pathetic, really."

Hearing her say it—hearing her laugh at the woman who had spent the last few days trying to ruin my life—felt like a brick being lifted off my chest.

"Come on," Elena said, standing up and pulling open the closet. "You aren't staying in this room. We’re going to the ranch on the north side of the estate. I heard you can ride."

"I used to," I whispered. "It’s been a long time. Michael never really... he didn't think it was worth the time."

"Well, Michael isn't invited," Elena said firmly. She started throwing clothes onto the bed. "Wear the high-waisted breeches. And the leather boots you bought in town. You’re going to look like you own the mountain, not like you’re hiding from it."

She didn't give me a choice. She talked the whole time I dressed, skipping the 'how are you feeling' nonsense and going straight for the throat. She talked about the absurdity of Julian’s ego and how to tell when a man is lying just by the way he blinks. She didn't treat me like a victim; she treated me like a soldier.

By the time we pulled up to the ranch, the scent of sweet grass and leather hit me like a memory I’d forgotten I owned. The groom led out a tall, powerful bay with a coat that shone like polished copper. As I reached out to stroke his velvet nose, the horse huffed a warm breath against my palm, and for the first time in three years, the knot in my stomach actually loosened.

I swung into the saddle, the creak of the leather and the height above the ground giving me a sense of perspective the villa had stolen from me. Elena mounted a smaller grey mare, and with a click of her tongue, we moved out.

As we hit the open meadow, I didn't wait for her. I nudged the bay into a canter, then a full gallop. The wind tore the last of the night’s heaviness from my skin. I wasn't Michael’s partner. I wasn't the woman who had been cheated on. I was just a body in motion, moving faster than the ghosts trying to catch her. The rolling green hills and the jagged line of the mountains blurred into a vibrant smear of freedom. For the first time, I felt like I could actually breathe.