ISADORA’S POV


    <b>80 </b>


    65 vouchers


    The old man in front of me let out a small scoff, the kind of sound that carried years of bitterness. It was sharp, almost like a de cutting through the air. The way he scoffed at being called Olivia’s father immediately made me realize that I had touched a nerve. His face, already wrinkled with age, seemed to tighten even more, like every muscle in his jaw was clenching at once.


    “No, I am not Olivia ke’s father,” he said coldly, his tone filled with disdain. Then his eyes shifted slightly. narrowing in a way that told me he wasn’t finished. “But you’re right about one thing. Unfortunately, I am rted to her.”


    Unfortunately.


    That word hit me harder than I expected. It wasn’t just the way he said it, but the weight behind it. Like being connected to Olivia was some kind of curse that had ruined his life. His disgust wasn’t subtle – it was raw and heavy.


    I froze for a moment, my pen still hovering over the cup where I’d been about to finish writing his name. If he wasn’t her father, then there was only one logical option – he had to be her uncle. The way he spoke, it was like he carried years of resentment toward her. With just a few words, I could feel the storm inside this man, and it was aimed entirely at her.


    But I couldn’t show my hand yet. I had to y this carefully.


    “Oh, okay,” I said, trying to sound casual, hiding the spark of interest growing inside me. I slipped the coffee cup back into the brown bag, acting as though his words hadn’t stirred anything in me. “I didn’t know her rtives were also in town.”


    He didn’t even nce at me as I spoke, his focus still sharp and cold. His reply came quickly, without hesitation.


    “I didn’te here with her,” he said tly. “And I didn’te to say hi to her either.” Then his eyes cut to mine, and for the first time since he walked in, I felt the weight of his stare. “How do you know Olivia?”


    That question, caught me off guard. My mind raced for the right response. I couldn’t just say what I truly thought of her. No, that would ruin everything. I needed to be careful about how I approached him.


    “Oh, hmmm,” I stammered for just a second before forcing a smile onto my face. “Well… she’s like my best friend. So we’re really close.”


    It was a gamble, but I thought it was a smart one. If I pretended to be her friend, maybe he would open up to me. Maybe he’d lower his guard, thinking I was someone who had Olivia’s trust. That was my logic if I told him I was close to her, he wouldn’t see me as a stranger. He’d feel morefortable, more willing to share.


    But instead offort, I saw theplete opposite unfold right before my eyes.


    The second those words left my mouth, his expression hardened. His brows furrowed, deep wrinkles etching across his forehead like storm clouds gathering. It wasn’t just a frown it was the look of someone who had just heard something that offended him to his core.


    10:24 <b>Sat</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>20 </b>


    :


    <b>?.?. </b>


    55 vouchers


    His entire demeanor shifted in an instant. His hand shot forward, snatching the brown bag from me with a sharp, aggressive tug, as though my words had poisoned it. The force of it startled me, and my smile faltered.


    “In that case,” he said, his voice low but cutting, “then I don’t have anything more to say to you.”


    And just like that, he turned away.


    I watched, stunned, as he started for the exit, his shoulders tense, his steps heavy with anger. He didn’t even look back at me, like I was nothing but a waste of his time.


    Panic surged in me. No, no, no. What did I do wrong? I had to fix this. I couldn’t let him walk out the door, not when I was this close to possibly uncovering something. He was angry, yes, but anger could be worked with. It meant there were wounds, and wounds meant opportunity.


    I had to speak to him again. I had to stop him before he left for good. Maybe if I apologized, maybe if I softened my tone, I could reel him back in. This was too important to slip through my fingers. I couldn’t afford to lose this chance.


    “Excuse me, sir,” I said quickly, leaving the counter and walking closer before he could reach the door. My voice was a little desperate, but I didn’t care. “May I know what I did wrong? I mean, you’re the first customer today, and it’s not really a good fortune if you leave here angry.”


    He stopped briefly, but only long enough to nce at me from the corner of his eye. “You didn’t say or do anything wrong. The fact that you’re friends with that girl just gets me annoyed.” His tone was clipped, each wordced with irritation, and then he kept walking toward the exit like I wasn’t even worth his time.


    “Annoyed? Why?” I called after him, pushing my steps faster to catch up. “You’re her rtive, her uncle if I’m not mistaken, andst I checked, uncles don’t go around hating on their nieces‘ friends.”


    That got him to pause again, but only for a second. His back stiffened, and I could almost see the anger radiating off him. He didn’t bother turning around when he replied, “Like I told you before, I have nothing more to say to you. Have a nice day.”


    Panic shot through me he was slipping away, and I couldn’t let that happen. The words tumbled out before I could stop them.


    “I lied. I’m not friends with Olivia.”


    That froze him in ce instantly, like someone had pressed pause on his entire body. My heart thumped in my chest. I hadn’t nned to reveal that so fast, but it was the only thing I could think of to keep him from walking out of here for good.


    And it worked. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he turned back toward me. His eyes narrowed as he studied me, his suspicion still sharp but no longer burning with anger. “So why exactly did you tell a lie?” he asked, his voice calmer now, less aggressive but edged with curiosity.


    I let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of my own recklessness. There was a chance he’d dismiss me again, maybe even insult me, but I couldn’t back down now. Not when I was standing on the thin line between gaining an ally and losing everything. “Because I was trying to find out more about her family and allies,” I admitted honestly.


    That seemed to get his attention more than anything else I had said. His brows lifted slightly, and I caught a


    10:24 <b>Sat</b>, <b>Sep </b><b>20 </b>


    flicker of intrigue in his expression, like he wasn’t expecting such bluntness from me.


    55 voucher


    I took that as my chance and pressed on. “You might not like what I’m about to say, but the truth is…” I drew in a breath, steadying myself before letting the words fall. “I hate Olivia. I hate her more than anything in this world.”


    For a second, silence stretched between us. My chest tightened as I waited for him to scoff, to storm out, to call me insane for openly dering such hatred toward his own blood. I braced myself for rejection, for the door mming behind him and my chance slipping away forever.


    But none of that happened. Instead, the corners of his lips twitched, curving upward into something I hadn’t expected at all – a small smile. Not a polite one. Not even a kind one. It was the kind of smile that carried bitterness, the kind that hinted at old grudges and dark satisfaction.


    “You think you can spare some time for us to chat?” he said finally, his tone shifting from dismissive to deliberate.


    <b>A</b>