Page 45 of Breaking Point

She sighs. “I just don’t understand why it happened.”

I want to tell her the truth. But I can’t. Not without directly defying Harvey-my boss.No matter how much I disagree with it.

“Another conversation for your father. I can’t…” I stop myself from revealing more, from confirming more than I should have.

“He is hiding something then.”

Goddammit.

She must see the look on my face because she nods. “I guess that will be a conversation for later.”

I stop scrubbing to watch the look of acceptance settle over her. “Is he coming by?”

She reaches for more of the soapy water, dumping a handful over the reddened carpet. “He’s bringing dinner over Monday night.”

I can only guess that wasn’t her decision, but I don’t comment on it. Instead, I motion to her, her hands red from scrubbing at this mess all morning. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll take care of this.”

“You don’t-“

She tries to object, but I shake my head, mind already made. “We can spend the next thirty minutes arguing about it or you can shower, get some caffeine, and relax a bit before this wedding.” I eye her, and while she looks entirely ready to attempt the former, she deflates.

“Okay… Thank you.”

I watch her as she stands before I focus my attention on the mess again. “Don’t mention it."

Chapter Twenty-Two

Olivia

Chesna’s alive… and stable for now. I got the text early this morning. I can go and visit, but they’re keeping her for observation after the surgery. I’ve been pushing off an appointment with Aleks and Sofia for a bit now, and I shoot off a quick text about moving again so that I have time to see Chesna. Even knowing that she’s okay, I’m riddled with anxiety.

What if? Why? How?

It’s a constant distraction throughout my day. The wedding passes by in a whirlwind. The event was gorgeous. The vintage Westlan estate came together wonderfully, but having Crew and Taylor at my side all night proved to be a pain in my side.A constant reminder of what happened-of Crew all but confirming that my dad is hiding something.

When Monday morning rolls around, I’m surprised when Taylor and Crew don’t trade off like usual. I walk into the kitchen to find Crew at the stove, scrambling eggs and adding berries to his oatmeal like he usually does after a workout.

He looks good. Too good, wearing nothing but a tight shirt and sweats. With a baseball cap pulled low over his face, his brown eyes lift to see me staring.

I clear my throat, pasting on a smile. “Good morning.”

“‘Morning.”

I hastily flip on the coffee machine and brew a fresh cup as he sits at the island to eat. It would normally bother me that someone else is in my house, using my things, but I’m grateful to not be alone.

“Are you planning on eating?” he asks, gulping down a few mouthfuls without looking up.

I freeze like a deer in headlights because I usually forget food in the mornings. I’ve been so focused on seeing Chesna today that I haven’t had time to think about anything else.

I purse my lips, yanking open the freezer and popping two protein waffles into the toaster as I carry my coffee to get dressed. “Didn’t realize you were the breakfast police.”

He doesn’t respond, but once I’ve reappeared from my room, dressed in a comfy blouse and dress pants, I’m aware of him watching as I lather a heap of peanut butter on each waffle and eat them as-is. I eat quickly. He’s already done washing his dishes by the time I finish and stand with my purse in-hand.

“Ready?” I chirp.

He lifts a brow. “No syrup, huh Princess?”

I shrug, trying not to frown at the nickname. “It’s messy.”

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