bChapter /bb224 /b

    OLIVIA’S POV

    Hlet out a small sigh as I stared at myself in the mirror inside thepany restroom. The soft hum of the fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, and the distant sounds of murmuring voices outside reminded me that the press conference was over.

    It was done. I had finally shown myself to the world.

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    The weight of it all pressed down on me. There was no undoing it now, no way to hide in the shadows anymore. My face had been broadcast on national television, and my voice echoed through millions of devices. The world now knew Olivia ke was alive.

    Which meant only one thing: sooner orter, Adrian and Isadora would know too.

    A part of me had always wondered what that moment would feel like. Would I feel proud? Vindicated? Safe? But instead, all I felt now was anxiety. Not because I feared what they might do, but because I knew what they were capable of. Now that Adrian will eventually see me, I wouldn’t be surprised if he sent his guys looking for me.

    Again.

    I leaned over the sink and turned on the tap, letting the cold water run between my fingers before sshing it lightly on my face. The coolness helped clear my thoughts for a moment. I needed to focus. I needed to be smart.

    If Adrian hade for me once, there was every possibility he might do it again. And now that he knew about my real family, my bloodline, my background, there was a real risk he might try to use them to get to me.

    I wouldn’t let that happen.

    Security needed to be tripled immediately. That much was obvious. Thank God, not everyone could just stroll into the street where my temporary mansion was located. The entire area was under private ownership, essible only to those with clearance. It was as close to a fortress as you could get without building a moat.

    That ce was our safe house now.

    And I’d make damn sure it stayed that way.

    I nced at my reflection onest time, smoothing out the cor of my zer. There were dark circles under my eyes. But behind that tiredness, there was something else. Strength. Resolve.

    I have changed in thest five years. I wasn’t the same girl who once ran, hid, and feared.

    Twas stronger inow/i.

    1 dried my hands and stepped out of the bathroom, heels clicking softly against the polished tile floor. The noise of the building had quieted, guests were already beginning to leave, and the camera crews were packing up.

    We were done with the announcement. The spotlight had turned away. Now, it was time to head back home.

    My father stood a few feet ahead, shaking hands and exchanging smiles with a few of his clients. His voice was deep, authoritative, yet warm

    ba /bman who had built an empire and wasn’t afraid to let people know it.

    “I’ll be expecting you at the ceremony. Have a nice day,” he said, giving them ba /bcourteous nod.

    As they walked away, I approached him with a wry smile ying on my lipsb. /b

    “You happy now?” I said jokingly.

    He turned toward me, theers of his mouth curling upward as his eyes lit up.

    “As a matter of fact, yes, I am,” he replied without missing a beat. “Each day I scroll through the inte, I see my old friends and rivals unting their children, their sons and daughters who’ve taken over the family legacy. And for the longest time, I felt a little… well, jealous. My only son refused to take over the business, and I thought I’d be thest of the ke line to lead.”

    I said nothing, letting him talk, though his words stirred something in me.

    “But when I found you five years ago,” he continued, “everything changed. You were the piece I never knew i was missing. It’s unfortunate we had to make the announcement here, of all ces. I know what this city means to you, what it reminds you of. But it had to be done.”

    I blinked, momentarily caught off guard by how easily he could switch between vulnerability and ambition. There was love in his voice, sure,

    but also pride. Legacy. Power. That had always been his driving force.

    “Wow, Dad,” I said, my voice thick with sarcasm as we began walking side by side. “I’m so d to hear that all of this, this grand announcement, this media circus, was just so you could show off to your friends and rivals.”

    My dad let out a smallugh and said, “Don’t think of it that way. We also did this for thepany. This way, it keeps growing globally. Even after my reign and your reign, we’re basically setting it up for our little boy Charlie when it’s time for him to take over in the future.”

    I raised a brow and smiled, a mixture of amusement and disbelief dancing on my face. “Yeah, I guess so. Now that we’re done with this, ra will triple our security, which means you might not be able to go out all the time, Dad. I don’t want them going after you or Mom.”

    My dad waved his hand like it was no big deal. “Yeah, yeah, I know. There’s nothing to see in this rundown city anyway,” he added, practically

    spitting out the words with the kind of disdain only a bitter memory can stir. He always had a love–hate rtionship with New York. Mostly

    hate.

    “Wow,” I said, shaking my head and trying not tough too hard. “You really hold a grudge, huh?”

    “I have my reasons,” he muttered, clearly not ready to open that can of worms. Before I could tease him further, a sharp beep broke through

    our light–hearted moment.

    It came from his phone.

    His hand moved to his jacket pocket without hesitation, pulling out the device. I watched his expression change instantly. The light in his eyes faded, his usual confident aura slipping into something more troubled. He stared at the screen for far too long, long enough for me to

    feel the shift in the air.

    “What is it?” I asked, my voice turning cautious, the lightness from earlierpletely gone now.

    “It’s nothing,” he said too quickly, his fingers locking the phone and slipping it back into his pocket.

    “Dad.” I stopped walking and turned to face him fully. “Don’t do that. We don’t keep secrets from each other in this family. What’s wrong?”

    He exhaled slowly, like the truth weighed heavily on his chest. Then he stopped walking too, cing one hand on his hip and using the other to pinch the bridge of his nose.

    “It’s my brother,” he said, almost like the words hurting out. His voice was alreadyced with stress.

    “Uncle José?” I asked, immediately concerned. “How is he?”

    Uncle José was my dad’s older brother, only a few years apart in age butpletely different in personality. I met him the first year I moved to Mexico. He wasn’t exactly the warmest person on earth. In fact, when we first met, he looked at me like I didn’t belong. But over time, I figured that was just how Mexicans were sometimes, tough on the outside, especially when it came to strangers or sudden changes.

    16:48 Mon, 11 Aug

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    He wasn’t the kind of man who smiled often or gavepliments. Our conversations were brief, sometimes awkward. Still, I made the effort. He was my uncle, my dad’s blood, and that made him family. Whenever the chance came up to talk, I took it. Maybe I was still trying to earn his approval, though I’d never say that out loud.

    “What he’s saying…” my dad began, his jaw tightening as he nced around, lowering his voice. “It’s not good.”

    My stomach dropped a little, even though I didn’t have the full picture yet. The way my father looked, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, told me this wasn’t just some casual family squabble. It was something deeper.