bChapter /bb197 /b

OLIVIA’S POV

“He said I should let you know that you guys are gonna talk on Zoom,” ra said.

Just when I was about to call Charlie too… of all times.

I nced around the hotel suite, my eyes darting from therge bed to the couch and the white walls. My father knew how my house looked like – from the marble–tiled background of my living room to the signature painting of my mother above the firece. If I were to video call him here, even with the luxury around me, he’d surely notice something was off.

But maybe I could pull this off. I could always tell him I went out to see someone. Besides, he said he wanted to talk about business, and when he gets into that mode, he rarely notices much else. Still, my stomach twisted at the thought.

I let out a small sigh and straightened my shoulders. “Alright, set up the Zoom meeting,” I told ra.

ra gave me a silent nod, her face calm and professional, though I could sense she knew how risky this was. She walked in, quietly closing the door behind her to keep out any hallway noise.

I moved to sit on the couch where myptop rested, the ck screen reflecting my slightly anxious expression. I ran my fingers through my hair, smoothing it down and checking that it looked presentable. My fingers lingered on my ne for a moment, an old habit whenever I was nervous.

The hotel room felt too quiet, almost as if the walls were waiting to hear what would happen next. The tension wrapped around me like an invisible nket. I took a deep breath and opened theptop, the screen’s cool glow lighting my face. ra’s reflection hovered in the background as she tapped and clicked to get the call connected.

After a few rings, the familiar face of my father appeared. His expression was the same serious yet fatherly one I’d seen countless times but there was something else too new lines around his eyes, and more grey in his hair than when Ist saw him almost a month ago. Funny how time marks people quietly, like gentle waves against stone.

–

“Olivia,” he called out, his voice still carrying that quiet authority.

A smile lifted my lips as I nodded. “Hi, Dad,” I replied, my voice calm though my heartbeat raced beneath the surface.

“I know how busy you’ve be since you became CEO,” he began, leaning slightly forward on his chair. “So I figured you wouldn’t have much time toe home. That’s why I want us to have this discussion here.”

“Okay,” I said, nodding again, trying to keep my expression from giving away how uneasy I felt.

“As the CEO, you know about the branch in New York that thepany has been working on,” he continued, his tone shifting into the measured cadence he always used for business.

“Yes, I do. I’ve been keeping tabs on it,” I replied, my voice quick, eager to show that I was still on top of my responsibilities. “Funny enoughb, /bthey’re already done with it. The building is just as beautiful as expected.”

The words left my mouth before I could stop them. The second they did, my mind froze. I’d spoken too quickly too honestly. He wasn’t supposed to know that I was in New York.

My father’s brows lifted, his eyes sharp with quiet suspicion. “And how do you know that?” he asked, his tone softer than usual, which somehow bmade /bit even more dangerous.

I swallowed hard, searching for something anything bto /bsay that wouldn’t sound like a lie or make things worse. bThe /bsilence bstretched/bb, /bband /bbevery /bsecond felt like a heavy stone dropped in water, ripples echoing out.

“Because uhmm… The words stumbled out of my mouth before I could catch them.

My mind braced/bb, /bheart drumming so loud it nearly drowned out my bfather’s /bbvoice/b. bI /bbshot /bba /bbquick /bnce bat /bbra/bb, /bbsilently /bbbegging /bbfor /ba blifeline/bb, /bbbut /bbshe /bbjust /bbshook /bher bhead /bgently, her expression telling me she had nothing bto /bbadd/b.

b1/2 /b

b10:08 /bbSun/bb, /b27 bJul /bG

“Because I saw a video of it, obviously.” I finally forced out, clearing my throat to sound as casual as possible.

For a moment, there was silence. My father tilted his head slightly, as if weighing my words, his sharp eyes narrowing the way they always did when he suspected I wasn’t telling the whole truth. My chest tightened. Even now, even through a screen, he had that uncanny ability to read meb. /b

“Hmmm… ok,” he finally said, and I exhaled, though my shoulders still felt stiff with tension. “In that case, that’s good. Now, since byou’ve /bbseen /ba videoi, /i

an opening ceremony for the New York branch this brings us to the real reason why I called.” His tone shifted, business–like. “I want us to ha

I blinked, my mind catching on his words. “Is that really necessary?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even, though I could hear the tightness creeping in.

“Of course, Olivia,” he replied, almost sounding disappointed that I’d even questioned it. “This branch would be our 50th branch globallyb. /bThat’s huge something to celebrate properly. And since the building is already finished, we’ll have the ceremony in a few days.”

A cold chill settled in imy /istomach. A few days. My thoughts scrambled: I could still fly back to Mexico before then, Nobody would know I was ever bhere/b. My eyes flicked up to ra again, and she gave me a tiny nod, as if reminding me to stay iposed/i.

“Ok, that sounds good,” I replied, forcing a smile, hoping it reached my eyes.

My father nodded, seeming satisfied for now. “Good,” he said. Theni, /iunexpectedly, his expression softened.

“How’s mom?” I asked quickly, trying ito /isteer the conversation somewhere safe.

“She’s fine,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of ihis /ilips. “She’s in ithe /ibathroom right now, actually.”

Before I could respond, I saw it again: that same familiar ilook /iion /ihis face, the way his eyes narrowed, scanning the background behind me. His focus sharpened, and I felt my breath catch.

“Where are you?” he asked suddenly, his voice calm, but there was isteel /iunderneath.

iMy /ifingers curled tightly around the edge iof /itheptop. “What do you imean/ii?/i” I asked, ibut /imy voice came out shaky, betraying me.

“Olivia,” he said, his itone /iturning imore /iserious, almost fatherly but with that ibusiness /iedge I knew all too well. “I gave you the contractor who built your house. I iknow /ievery corner of it as much as you do. iAnd /iifrom /iwhat I’m seeing behind iyou/i… You’re not at home. So, where are you?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and unyielding.

I swallowed hard, my mind racing for an exnation that wouldn’t make things worse. I nced around the hotel room, bcursing /bmyself bfor /bbnot /bbthinking /bof changing the background earlier, and I knew this was going ito /ihappen. The furniture, the subtle gold trim on the wall, bthe /bunfamiliar bcouch/bb… /bI bknew /bbit /bwould all stand out like a confession.

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