CHAPTER 159: ACCOMPLICE

–Livana–

My blood surged upward, pounding in my temples until the pain became unbearable. It was anger—raw, searing anger—rising like a storm tide. Anger at Carrie, the illegitimate daughter of my grandfather. How dare she threaten my mother, only to take her life in the same breath? Yet, what burned me more deeply was the knowledge that my father helped her bury the truth beneath silence.

In the footage, I heard the echo of my younger voice screaming, though the screen remained empty—no image, only sound, as if my grief had always been destined to live in shadows.

"Liva," Deanne’s voice cut through my spiral as she reached me, swiftly pulling the computer away. "Your nose is bleeding."

Only then did I notice the warm trickle slipping down. My nose—bleeding. Before Deanne could summon Jane, she had already appeared, swift as if she had sensed it beforehand. She carried a box of tissues, her movements precise, efficient. She tilted my chin upward with gentle fingers, pressing the soft paper against my skin. My smartwatch must have betrayed me, its sensors flashing signals of my blood pressure and heart rate.

I leaned back against the sofa, weary, while Deanne spoke into her phone, calling the doctor. I raised my hand weakly.

"It’s fine," I murmured.

"What’s fine about that? Your nose is bleeding," Deanne snapped, her voice strained with worry.

"I’ll sleep this off," I muttered.

"Stop being stubborn, Livana. We can’t risk your baby." She hissed the words, her anxiety slipping into reprimand. Jane, silent but firm, seemed to echo her agreement. Outnumbered, I could not protest further.

The door opened, and a physician stepped inside—summoned by Deanne. My eyes lingered, searching. Her presence was familiar, yet she was not the doctor who usually examined me at the Blackwell residence.

Deanne closed the computer and returned to my side as the woman approached. That faint familiarity lingered, unsettling me. She began her check-up, speaking with calm precision.

"For your concussion, I’ll prescribe something safe for the baby," she explained, drawing out a small vial.

I pushed it away. "No. I’ll sleep it off."

"But it will be painful, Mrs. Blackwell."

"No." My voice carried more steel than I intended. I would not risk anything foreign entering my body—not now, not while I carried this fragile life within me.

The doctor studied me for a moment, then relented. "Very well. Then I will perform acupuncture."

She set out slender needles, sterilizing each one in my presence, her gloves snapping lightly into place. Deanne froze at the sight, unease flickering across her face. I remained composed, feigning blindness, though I could not resist stealing careful glances.

"Which doctor are you?" I asked, my tone calm, though my curiosity pressed sharply beneath.

"I studied Chinese acupuncture," she replied as she guided me gently to recline.

I could not see what she did next, but I felt the delicate sting as the needles touched my skin—each one releasing the knots of tension coiled within me. Like a dam unburdened, the pressure in my head slowly ebbed away. The heaviness lulled me into quiet, and soon, sleep pulled me under.

–Deanne–

Her stubbornness? Unrivaled. Reasoning with Livana is like trying to bargain with the ocean—it swallows every word whole. Still, it’s her body, her baby. She guards it fiercely, like a queen shielding her heir. And so, instead of medicine, she chose acupuncture.

Jane arrived with blankets, careful as always, while the doctor slid the final needle from Livana’s skin.

"I suggest she avoid exertion," the doctor instructed, her tone clinical. "Sleep, eat, and repeat would be best. And above all, keep her away from stress."

I tilted my head, studying her. "What’s your name again, Doctor?"

She froze for a heartbeat. "My apologies. I’m Doctor Alice Olivarez. Boss Damon sent me to care for the Madam."

"Oh, I see." My lips curved, though suspicion sharpened beneath it. "He should’ve sent you earlier."

"I was attending a conference in Greenland," she explained quickly. "I regret the delay."

"It’s fine," I said with a low chuckle, though my eyes lingered. "I’ll watch over Livana. Thank you for your help, Doctor."

She smiled politely and busied herself with packing up her tools.

"It’s alright, Jane," I dismissed her softly.

"Then, I’ll prepare lunch."

I nodded, watching her leave. The doctor soon followed, but I wasn’t finished.

"Where are you staying, Doctor Alice?" I asked casually, though my curiosity was a dagger wrapped in silk.

"A cottage by the pond. It was provided for me."

"I see." My nod was slow, thoughtful. "Thank you for your help."

She excused herself, and silence settled. I sighed, my gaze falling to Livana’s resting form before temptation drew me back to the computer. I slipped on my headset, pressing play.

Murderer.

The word lanced through the speakers. My brow arched. Murderer? The timing aligned too neatly—around the years when Livana and I rid ourselves of my lecherous stepfather. No regrets lingered over his death. None.

Aunt Ines never cared either. She had been shaping Livana into something colder, sharper—the perfect monarch for the underworld. The Ice Queen. Damon’s personal title for her. Yet in this footage, the truth was simpler: someone pushed her mother, and Livana had seen enough to know.

I folded my arms, satisfaction humming. Evidence—enough to bite, but not enough to know what Livana intends to do with it.

My phone buzzed. Caine. A slow smile spread across my lips as I answered.

"Hey, gorgeous." His voice was silk dipped in heat.

"Hey. How’s work?"

"Damon’s killing it." A low chuckle. "I miss you. And I heard Livana left the Blackwell residence."

"Mm. We want our privacy." I smirked, moving away from the living room to let Livana sleep while I entertained him.

"What? You’re not cheating on me with Livana, are you?" He teased with mock drama.

I laughed softly. "Do you know Dr. Alice Olivarez?"

"Yes. Damon hired her. Livana refuses painkillers, so he wanted alternatives."

"I see." I crossed my arms, always calculating. "When are you coming home?"

"We’re heading to the rendezvous soon. Damon’s checking the site in Chile—something big."

"Hmm. And the spies?"

"Gone. Damon’s double took care of them. They’re still stranded in Spain."

"Ohh." My lips curved, though suspicion tapped again. "Isn’t this call a little... tampered with?"

"Don’t worry, my gorgeous." His confidence was infuriating and intoxicating at once. "I miss sucking those nipples. And that lower one."

Heat flared under my skin. My breath hitched, though my voice remained smooth.

"Really?" I smirked, though my body betrayed me.

"I can’t wait to bury myself inside you until you scream my name." His words spilled like fire.

Desire tugged at me, sharp and insistent. I wanted to retreat to my room, to let him consume me with his voice—but Livana needed watching.

"When are you available?" he pressed, frustration in his tone. "I’m already touching myself."

A giggle slipped as I adjusted Livana’s blanket and brushed my hand against the briefcase. "Fine. I’ll go to my room. Let’s make it quick."

I slipped away, speaker on, rummaging through my luggage.

"Did you bring the vibrator I bought you?"

"Of course," I said smoothly. "Leaving it at the Blackwell estate would raise... questions."

His laugh rumbled low.

"Check the pouch. I added a vibrating rabbit."

"Rabbit?" I arched a brow.

"Charged and cleaned before I left. I want you to try it."

"Caine..." I sighed, feigning protest, though anticipation pooled low in my belly. "I should be watching Livana."

"Come on, baby. I’m hard as steel."

And like always, I gave in. His voice, his heat, his wicked promises unraveled me. Pleasure crashed, unplanned, undeniable.

"Mm. You’d better come home soon," I giggled breathlessly. "I have to check on Liva."

"I love you, Deanne."

"Yeah, yeah. Take care," I teased, hanging up. I dressed quickly, smoothing myself back into composure.

Livana still slept, her breath steady. I slipped into the kitchen where Jane was torching a cheesecake.

"Jane, do you ever have a boyfriend?" I asked, grinning slyly.

She blinked, then nodded. "Yes. Twice."

"Ohhh. And... do you two ever do anything hot over the phone?"

Her laugh was flustered. "Well, you could say that~~"

Before I could tease her further, a man’s voice cut in.

"What’s that smell?"

We both jumped. Jane’s hand tightened around the knife, ready to strike.

"Logan!" I hissed. "Damn it, you scared us."

He strolled in casually, plucking the knife from her grip and slipping it back into the drawer. "What are you both so jumpy about?"

"Haven’t you noticed? It’s only girls here." My smile was sharp.

"Then let’s wake Liva and eat."

He glanced at the spread of food, unimpressed. "Jane, your cooking’s good, but it won’t fill us."

Jane tilted her head, arms crossing defiantly. Oh, they looked deliciously adorable—ripe for mischief.

"If that’s not enough, cook for yourself. I don’t have time to feed a man with an endless appetite."

Logan didn’t even flinch. I slipped away with a grin, returning to the living room. Livana hadn’t moved. My poor girl. I sank onto the carpet beside her.

"Liva," I whispered, brushing her hand until she startled awake with a gasp.

"Calm down," I soothed. "Lunch is ready."

Her gaze lingered on the ceiling, faraway. "Did my husband call?"

"No," I answered smoothly. "But Caine did. He said they’re in Chile."

"Hmm." She let me help her up, but before we could continue, Logan carried the dishes into the room.

"Hey, Liva. You have to eat, sleep, and repeat," he said casually.

I frowned. The words were identical to Doctor Alice’s advice. But Logan hadn’t been here earlier. How did he know?

Perhaps Livana had summoned him in secret. After all, he was her most loyal hound, her strongest asset.