Chapter b85 /b

He kept his head down. Not because he was ashamed in front of

the nurses or security. But because he couldn’t bear the thought of ncing back.

They were finished.

And that truth would haunt him more than any punishment

Chole or the world could ever deliver.

Olivia’s POV

I didn’t sleep that night.

I heard the quiet shift of fabric when Ethan stood. I felt the

weight of his gaze–heavy, sorrowful–as he hovered near me,

maybe wanting to speak, maybe waiting for a sign. But I gave

him none. I justy there, still as stone, staring at the ceiling

with eyes wide open, too numb to cry, too exhausted to feel

anything else.

That was how our story ended. Not with a fight, not with a kiss,

not even with a word. Just silence.

And that silence hurt more than any shouting match we ever

had.

In the morning, Ava checked me out of the hospital. She was

quiet too, gently wheeling me out while the nurses processed the discharge papers. My bruises had faded into a deep purple

mosaic across my body. I could walk again, but slowly. My

mind, however, wasn’t limping–it was running. It had been

running all night, retracing every step of thest eight years

with Ethan.

I wasn’t joyful. I wasn’t devastated. I just felt… clean. Hollow.

Like someone had taken a rag and wiped away every emotion

that had once stained my chest. All that remained was the echo

of too much happening too fast.

Before we left, I told Ava I wanted to visit Alexander. He was in

the same hospital, still recovering from the stab wound. He’d

saved my life, again. I felt I owed him something—if not a thank

you, then at least a moment,

But when we passed his ward, I paused. His room was crowded

-nursesing in and out, a doctor with a clipboard, a few

suited men I assumed were from Green Group. His assistant

Mike stood near the door, arms crossed, looking like he was

guarding the Alpha himself.

I didn’t want to cause trouble. Rumors, whispers, unnecessary

attention. So, I turned away.

I would wait. I would thank himter–properly, privately.

From the hospital, Ava and I drove straight to the police bstation/b.

The statement was long. Exhausting. I recounted the

kidnapping from the moment I noticed the tail, to the pain in

my neck, to waking up tied and drenched in gasoline. They

showed me photos of the man in ck–the same man I’d seen

loitering by the service stop.

He had been caught. Arrestedtest night after a brief chase.

“He says he wasn’t hired,” the officer told me, flipping through a

report. “ims he was ‘doing a favor‘ for a friend. No money

changed hands.”

Of course. A dead–end alibi.

“And Chole?” I asked, voice brittle.

“She’s… ying the victim,” he muttered. “Feigning memory loss.

The Windsors are trying to push a mental health narrative

again. But this time, the stabbing chargeplicates things.”

I signed the final page of my statement. “She stabbed Alexander.

She nned to burn me alive. Let’s not pretend she just

snapped.”

He nodded. “We won’t.”

After that, I just wanted to go home. Not to rest. Not to cry. I just

wanted stillness.

bChapter /b

And for a moment, I had it–until Ava re–entered bmy /bbroom /b

holding her phone.

“Ethan,” she said simply, handing it ito /ime. “He sent word.”

I stared at the screen for a long moment. My fingers hesitated,

then tapped it open.

Ethan wasn’t calling. He had sent a message–short, formal.

“If it’s really what you want… I’ll sign. I’ve informed thewyers.

You’ll receive the settlement. 300 million. Let’s do it tomorrow.

10 a.m. Courthouse.”

I read it twice. Then again.

No apology. No long paragraph of regret. Just surrender.

And that was what I’d wanted, wasn’t it?

I turned to Ava and gave a small nod. “Tell him I’ll be there.”

She looked at me carefully. “Are you sure?”

I smiled. Or something like a smile. “It’s done. Let it end where it

should.”

Ava didn’t say anything more. She just pulled me into a brief

hug and left the room.

As the sun dipped behind the buildings of New York, I stood by

Chapter RS

the windowb, /bstaring out over the city I had once dreamed babout /bbuilding a future in–with him.

Eight years.

And tomorrow, I would sign his name away like it meant

nothing.

Except, of course, it had meant everything.

I wrapped my arms around myself and whispered to the quiet,

“10:00. Tomorrow. Let it be done.”

Olivia’s POV

Ava nced at me from the driver’s seat. “You gave it your all.

Eight years isn’t nothing.”

I didn’t answer. What was there to say? Her sigh filled the

silence between us.