<b>Chapter </b>263
OLIVIA’S POV
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“Well, it has already been done, and I don’t regret doing it. And how are you already lecturing me just a few hours after seeing me again?” Adrian said. His tone wasn’t sharp, but it carried that stubborn edge that made it clear he wasn’t looking for approval from me.
Wait…” a few hours“? I blinked at him, realizing that he had no idea. I hadn’t told him the truth. To him, it probably felt like he had only just passed out after being shot, but in reality, he had been lying in that bed far longer.
“About that…” I said, clearing my throat as I shifted in my chair. My fingers tapped against the armrest unconsciously.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Is there a problem?”
“Not really a problem though…” I started, hesitating because I knew how he was going to take this. “But you’ve been here for three days now. You were unconscious the whole time because you lost so much blood. The doctors said it would probably be today before you woke up.”
The words left my mouth slowly, like they were heavier than I meant them to be.
“Wait, what?” His brows shot up, and he let out a shortugh. “Is that some kind of joke?”
I didn’tugh. I just looked at him, steady and serious. His smile faltered almost immediately, fading into disbelief as the reality sank in.
He shifted suddenly, trying to sit up in bed. The effort alone seemed to drain him because almost at once, he groaned loudly, his hand clutching at his side. The pain was obvious, his body wasn’t ready for sudden
movements.
“James…” he muttered through clenched teeth, struggling to catch his breath as he eased back against the pillows. “He’ll be searching everywhere for me. He hasn’t heard from me in a long time.”
The way his voice cracked with urgency almost made me feel bad for him. Almost.
“Don’t you have his number or something?<b>” </b>I asked, tilting my head. Honestly, it seemed like such a simple solution, but with Adrian, nothing was ever that straightforward.
“I don’t,” he admitted, his toneced with regret. “I barely have anyone’s numbers. And now I’m regretting it. Mypany I need to check on it.”
I raised a brow at him, unable to stop the incredulous look that came across my face. Even after being shot, unconscious for days, and barely able to sit upright, his first thought was of hispany.
“Well, it’s obvious you can’t do that in this state,” I said firmly, almost like I was scolding him. “You can barely <ol><li>up. How are you going to walk around? Besides, can’t James handle it?” </li></ol>
sit
Adrian shook his head, his expression tight. “Not like the way I do. There’s this asshole who’s been trying to bring mypany down – attacking on social media, financially, every chance he gets. One slip–up from
<b>10:50 </b>Fri<b>, </b><b>Sep </b>12
Westwood Industries and he’s going to take advantage of it.”
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The determination in his voice surprised me, but I couldn’t help the small scoff that slipped past my lips. I leaned back in my chair, folding my arms.
“Guess I wasn’t the only one trying to bring you down,” I muttered under my breath, not really caring if he caught it or not.
“Look, I know you care about yourpany a lot, but if you move now that could be dangerous for your health, and if something permanently happens to you, that guy is gonna get what he wants. Trust me, I’ve been in a position like this too… except I wasn’t shot though.” I said, trying to keep my voice steady but firm.
Adrian let out a long, weary sigh, one of those sighs that carried frustration but also reluctant eptance. I could tell by the way his eyes softened and his shoulders slumped slightly against the pillows that he knew <b>I </b>was right. He didn’t like it, but he knew.
For a while, the only sound in the room was the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the faint hum of the hospital’s air conditioning. He closed his eyes briefly, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths as if he was forcing himself to stay calm. Then he opened them again, turning his head slightly toward me.
“How about we change the subject,” he muttered. “Distract my mind from this pain.”
His tone was lighter now, though I could see the faint strain around his lips whenever he shifted. He wanted to forget about hispany and his enemies for a moment, even if it was temporary.
I nodded, relieved that he wasn’t going to argue with me further about rushing out of here. “Alright,” I said.
He gave a faint smile before asking, “How does it feel being a CEO?”
The question caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected him to ask something so personal, so direct. My mind flickered back to all the years of struggle, the endless meetings, the backstabbing in the corporate world, the victories, and the defeats.
“Well,” I began slowly, leaning back in my chair. “I mean, there’s nothing really special about it. In my opinion, it just… reduces your work. You have people who handle most of the heavy lifting for you, and all you really have to do is show up, sign things, and give orders. Yeah, there are times when you have to n for the entirepany, and those days can feel like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. But most of the time? It’s alright. Not as morous as people imagine.”
Adrian listened intently, his brows furrowing slightly, as if he was studying me, or maybe just my words.
“I see,” he said after a pause. “I guess people always assume CEOs live this untouchable life. Perfect, easy, morous. But it’s never like that, is it?”
I shook my head. “Never”
There was a brief silence again, but this one wasn’t ufortable. It was almost reflective, like both of us were letting our thoughts wander in the quietness of the room.
Then he broke it.
…
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“You still haven’t told me how all of this happened,” he said, his voice lower now, more serious. “I know there’s nothing going on between us anymore, but I’d appreciate it if you did tell me. I really want to know what made you bring out all that hate towards me back at the g.”
His eyes locked with mine, and for the first time, I could see that it wasn’t just curiosity, it was pain, confusion, and a desperate need for answers.
I looked away, my fingers fiddling with the edge of my sleeve. My throat felt tight because I knew he deserved the truth, but saying it aloud made everything so much heavier.
“There’s nothing there to tell,” I finally said, shaking my head. “Because it was all a lie. Everything I thought… was a lie.”
His eyes
widened slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.
–
“I’ve mentioned half of it to you already,” I continued, my voice quieter now. “The real question I’m trying to find the answer to is who did this? Someone plotted all of this. Someone wanted me to hate you. That’s why they hired those robbers, that’s why they made sure your name was spoken. And once I heard it… I believed it. I believed you were the one who sent them to kill me.”
My voice broke slightly on thest words, and I had to take a deep breath to steady myself. The images of that night, the years of resentment I carried, the promises I made to myself about making him pay, all of it shed in my mind like cruel reminders of how easily I had been manipted.
I clenched my fists on myp, trying to fight the frustration building up inside me. “Who is behind this all?” 1 whispered, though the question wasn’t really directed at him anymore. It was directed at the shadows in my mind, at the faceless figure pulling the strings all these years.
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AD