Page 56 of Breaking Point

"I left because I regretted signing myself over to a cause I didn't believe in. I fought for the wrong side," I say. I don't quite know whether or not I've ever admitted it to myself- let alone another person. “You should sleep, Liv,” my voice is low.

Olivia nods but doesn’t move. “I will.” Her voice is soft. Broken. “Just need to see my girl for a little.”

I don’t know how long I stand there watching them. Olivia nods off, and Chesna’s sound asleep when I stroll over and lift Olivia. I tuck her on the couch behind Chesna, and they’re both snuggling when I drop a blanket over them.

Despite feeling exhausted, I know I won’t be able to sleep tonight.

Not with the itch of wanting to know who exactly is targeting the Hughes.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Olivia

It’s weeks before Chesna is strong enough to sit on the kitchen island. The sun is painfully bright through the window, the air warm as I lean against the marble, a cup of coffee warm in my palm.

At first, the morning is quiet. Over the hum of the air conditioning, I drink everything in. A brief moment in between weddings and the promise of the busiest wedding season of my life. Chesna’s soft feet pad on the counter.

She appears on the marble in front of me with curious brown eyes. Her tail flicks back and forth as she buries her legs beneath her, laying flat on her stomach. It’s the first time she’s done it since the surgery, and the very sight makes me pause.

The pink scar on her belly is a faint reminder of the last few weeks- of the terror I felt when I came home and thought she was gone. My mind is immediately swarmed with anxiety. Worry. The unshakable feeling of being watched.

Within moments, it’s like a dam breaks, and everything floods in. My phone rings first. Not even a few seconds later, my computer pings twice. I give Chesna’s head a soft scratch before reaching for my phone. I leap into action when I see the time and seven impending messages:

I’m going to be late for a meeting.A lunch in town that I need to be ready for in…

I hear the guest room door open, and Taylor pokes his head out, hair tousled from sleep.

“Two minutes!” he hollers but from the looks of him, we’re both running late.

Depositing my mug out of Chesna’s reach, I practically trip over my feet to grab clothes and a bow to tie my hair with from my room. My dress is pretty enough, but I finish by adding some pearl earrings and stilettoheels. By the time Taylor and I stumble to the car, I already know we’ll be fifteen minutes late… and I’ve never been late.

It’s something I pride myself on. Not to mention, when I don’t get somewhere with enough time to prepare, it usually ends with even more gut-wrenching anxiety. I use the ten minutes before any event to check my planner. It’s a technique I developed years ago- one I didn’t realize I rely on until I check my watch and realize we’re not even halfway there yet.

I shoot off a quick text, hoping Aleks and Sofia don’t mind waiting, but I scroll through my messages. One from Dad asking how I am, and two from an unknown number:

Unknown: How does this Friday sound for dinner?

Unknown: This is Chase. Your father gave me your number.

He’s persistent, I’ll give him that,I think with the slightest shake of my head.

Sliding my phone into the pocket of my dress, I make a mental note to reply later.

In no time at all, the city dissolves away. I’ve never been to the Rebren Hotel before, but the gothic black gates engraved with anRtower over the tall ash trees lining either side of the road.

Despite the Westlan heat, a wave of cool falls over me when I step out of the car. Storm clouds loom overhead, angry with the promise of rain, and even once inside, the faint earthy scent follows me. The hotel is busy with patrons lounging and drinking about the small cafe just inside, and further past reception, I spot Aleks Benenati sipping a drink by the elevators. He smiles, waving me over.

“Hi,” I say, and he greets me with a kiss to either of my cheeks. “Sorry I’m late! Thank you for being so patient about meeting with me.”

“Sofia should be down any minute. I’m so glad you could make it.”

I smile, despite the situation being less than ideal. “I can’t exactly miss the next big wedding of the century, can I?”

Sofia appears at the top of the stairs. “Olivia, thank you for coming!”

“I’m happy to,” I say as she comes to stand beside her fiancé, diamond ring sparkling on her hand.

She’s wearing red today, the dress pretty and delicate like a rose. With her black hair drawn back in a wave of loose curls, she looks beautiful. It’s only now that I’m able to look at her properly. She looks every bit like a woman Aleks would chase after. She smiles almost as if she knows it.

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