<b>Chapter </b>99
<b>OLIVIA’S </b>POV
I stood up from the couch<b>, </b>my footsteps <b>soft </b>against the floor <b>as </b>I made my <b>way </b>to the far corner of the room. I didn’t want them to hear this conversation, especially not now, when things were just starting to feel a little normal. I took a deep breath and answered the call, pressing the phone to my <b>ear</b>.
I didn’t <b>say </b>anything <b>at </b><b>first</b><b>. </b>I wanted him to speak. Let him be the one to break the silence.
“Hi<b>, </b>where <b>are </b>you<b>?</b><b>” </b>Adrian’s voice came through, calm but clipped–too calm for someone who rarely called.
“Should that be your concern?” <b>I </b>shot back, my tone colder than ice. If he called just to y games or to assert control, he was going to get exactly what he <b>gave</b>. I <b>wasn’t </b>in the mood for his usual power <b>ys</b>.
<b>“</b><b>Yes</b>, I have <b>every </b>right to know the location of my wife,” he replied, his tone firm, almost defensive.
<b>A </b>bitterugh escaped me before I could stop it. I didn’t even realize I’dughed aloud until I turned around and caught my mother and Julian staring at me with curious expressions. Their eyes were sharp<b>, </b>attentive–they could probably sense the shift in my energy.
“I know you didn’t call just to find out my location, Adrian. So, what do you really want?” <b>I </b>asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I need you back home,” he said without hesitation, like it <b>was </b>the most natural request in the world.
“I’m busy where I am right now. When I’m done, I’lle back,” I replied coolly.
“Cancel whatever you’re doing ande back home. We don’t have all day,” he ordered, the authority in his voice turning the heat in my chest into pure irritation.
“No, I can’t do that,” <b>I </b>responded firmly. “You haven’t even told me why you want me back <b>so </b>urgently. And I’m sure <b>it’s </b>just another one of your ridiculous deals you expect me to smile through. Whatever it is can wait until I get home. We live in the same house<b>, </b>remember? I’m not running away.”
“Here’s the thing,” he said, his voice turning sharp. “Like I said, it can’t wait. And I wasn’t asking. That <b>was </b>an order.”
My grip on the phone tightened. I bit down on my lower lip to hold back the stream of words bubbling at the edge of my tongue. The way he talked to me, like I <b>was </b>one of his employees or a contract he could just dictate terms to—it made my blood boil.
“Fine,” I said <b>at </b><bst</b><b>, </b>my voice tight with restraint. “At <b>least </b>give me an hour. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Not more than an hour,” he replied, and then–just like that—the line went dead. No goodbye. <b>No </b>exnation.
I stared at the phone for a second, my hand trembling slightly from how hard I’d been gripping it. I wanted to scream, <b>or </b>throw the phone<b>, </b><b>or </b><b>just </b>disappear for a day. <b>Maybe </b>all three.
“With that look on your <b>face</b>, I’m guessing that <b>was </b>Adrian,<b>” </b>Julian’s voice broke through my storm of thoughts.
I turned <b>slowly </b>and <b>gave </b><b>a </b><b>small </b>nod.
<b>“</b><b>And </b>who’s <b>Adrian</b><b>?</b><b>” </b>my mom asked, her brows drawn together <b>as </b>she looked from me to Julian.
“My <b>darling </b><b>husband</b>,” I said,cing <b>every </b>word with <b>sarcasm </b>so thick you could cut it with a knife.
“The same <b>person </b>who <b>is </b>cheating on you<b>?</b><b>” </b>she <b>asked</b>, her <b>voice </b>cold and her <b>posture </b>straightening with fury.
“Unfortunately<b>, </b>yes,” I sighed<b>, </b><b>copsing </b><b>back </b>onto the couch beside her.
<b>“</b><b>So</b><b>, </b>what did he <b>want </b>this <b>time</b><b>?</b><b>” </b><b>Julian </b>asked, arms folded as he <b>leaned </b>forward, <b>his </b><b>expression </b>unreadable but clearly <b>concerned</b>.
I <b>stared </b>at the floor <b>for </b><b>a </b>moment <b>before </b>answering. <b>“</b>He wants <b>me </b>home. <b>Immediately</b>. Said <b>it </b>couldn’t wait<b>. </b>And <b>of </b><b>course</b>, he didn’t bother telling me why.”
“Oh no, that is no longer <b>your </b>home<b>,</b>” my mom said firmly, <b>her </b><b>voice </b>cold with disapproval
I sighed, running <b>a </b>hand <b>through </b>my <b>hair </b><b>before </b>responding<b>. </b><b>“</b><b>As </b><b>much </b>as I want to leave that house, I <b>can’t</b><b>… </b>not just <b>yet</b><b>.</b><b>” </b>
She looked <b>at </b>me with disbelief<b>. </b><b>“</b>Why <b>not</b><b>?</b><b>” </b>she asked<b>, </b>her <b>tone </b>a mix <b>of </b>concern and <b>frustration</b>.
<b>“</b><b>Well</b>, let’s just say he has her tied down<b>,</b><b>” </b><b>Julian </b>chimed in from beside <b>me</b><b>, </b>arms crossed. <b>“</b><b>In </b>a <b>sort </b><b>of </b>ckmail situation. And now<b>, </b>she <b>can’t </b>leave<b>. </b>Not until <b>we </b>untangle that mess.”
<b>11:35 </b><b>AM </b>
My mother’s <b>eyes </b>flicked between us, clearly upset by <b>what </b>she was hearing.
“It’s <b>really </bplicated, Mom. But Julian’s been working on it. And I’m <b>sure </b>he’s doing his best to get me out of there<b>, </b>right?” I turned to look <b>at </b>him, silently pleading <b>for </b>some <b>reassurance</b>.
Julian <b>gave </b>me a nod. “Of <b>course</b>. We’re almost there. There’s <b>just </b>one more person we need to get–someone who holds a key piece of the puzzle. Once we <b>have </b>their confession, Adrian won’t be able to hold anything over you anymore<b>.” </b>
The relief that flooded through me <b>was </b>indescribable. After all the chaos, all the <b>fear </b>and silence, hearing that <b>gave </b>me a flicker of hope. And now that I had found my biological family, I felt stronger, no longer alone.
“Who’s this <b>person </b>you’re after? And why is their confession so important?” my mom asked, clearly trying to piece everything together. <b>Her </b>expression had shifted to that of <b>a </b>protective lioness.
“I’d love to fill you in on everything, really,” I said apologetically, checking the time on my phone. “But Adrian only gave me an hour to be out. <b>Maybe </b>Julian can exin it all while I’m gone?”
My mother nodded slowly, but then a soft smile tugged at her lips, surprising me.
I tilted my head. “Did I say something funny?”
She shook her head gently, her smile widening. “When you were little, you and Julian couldn’t stand each other. Well, you didn’t like him, to be more specific. You cried every time he tried to <b>carry </b>you. We used tough so much because we couldn’t figure out why. Even when you could barely speak, you made it known–loud and clear–that you didn’t want to sit next to Julian.”
I blinked in surprise and looked at Julian, who raised an eyebrow <b>as </b>if to say, Well, that exins <b>a </b>lot.
“Really? I didn’t like him?” <b>I </b><b>asked </b>with a chuckle. “I mean, what’s not to like about this guy? He’s fun, smart, and always ready to help. Honestly, anyone who doesn’t like Julian <b>is </b>an enemy of the state.<b>” </b>
Julian rolled his eyes yfully, and my mom let out <b>a </b>warmugh. It <b>was </b>one of those rare<b>, </b>genuine family moments<b>–</b>something I had never experienced growing up.
“And how did you two meetter on?<b>” </b>she <b>asked </b>curiously, folding her arms <b>as </b>she leaned in a little.
I smiled at the memory. “It’s actually kind of funny. We ran into each other three times–like fate kept throwing us together. The first time was <b>at </b>the airport. I swung my handbag a little too hard and identally hit him. I <b>had </b>no idea he <b>was </b>standing behind me.”
Julian chuckled at the memory.
“The second time <b>was </b><b>at </b><b>a </b>coffee shop. I <b>was </b>in a rush and identally grabbed his coffee <b>instead </b>of mine. <b>I </b><b>was </b>almost out the door when he came up to me and told me. Weughed about <b>it</b>, and eventually, <b>we </b>exchanged numbers. I never imagined that I <b>was </b>about to be best friends with my brother.<b>” </b>
My mom looked between the two of us<b>, </b><b>tears </b>glistening faintly in her eyes. “<b>It’s </b>incredible… watching you two now<b>, </b><b>after </b>all this time apart. <b>You’ve </be <b>back </b>to each other like pieces of the same soul.”