Page 198 of Money Reigns
I should have went home to him, talked to him. Should have asked him what he knew. Or told him everything. That the mafia owned my family. That Baker’s Inn was theirs, and I was tangled in something I couldn’t undo. That I’d be a liability to a man like him.
But instead, I hung up on him and I ran.
I inhale a shaky breath, try to swallow it down.
“You feeling any better?” my seatmate asks softly.
I nod, wiping at my eyes. “Yeah. Thank you. I’m Olivia, by the way. Olivia Baker.”
She smiles; kind, warm, steady. “Selena Nandez. But you can call me S.J.”
Her hair is glossy brown silk, her hazel eyes bright with something sharp behind the gentleness. A book rests in her hand.
With her name on the cover.
“You’re an author?” I ask, surprised.
She chuckles, lifting the book and wiggling it. “Guilty.”
“That’s amazing,” I murmur, almost forgetting the ache in mychest.
She tilts her head,studying me.“Are you headed home?”
“Something like that…and you? Headed home or headed out?” I ask, desperate to shift the focus off me.
She smiles. “Oh, this? Just a connection. I’m on my way to California.”
I nod, fiddling with the tissue in my lap. “Work or play?”
“Work,” she says, lifting her book with a little grin. “Always work.”
Her expression softens into something that feels dangerously close to pity. “What’s his name?”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“It’s always relationship issues,” she says gently. “So what’s his name?”
“…Warren.”
“And what did Warren do?”
My throat closes. The truth burns at the back of my tongue.
“Nothing,” I manage. “That’s the problem. He just… gave. And gave. And before I knew it, I was swallowed up by all his things.Hischoices. His world. I didn’t realize he’d locked me in until I couldn’t see the way out.”
S.J. is quiet for a long beat, just watching me. Then she leans closer, her voice low but steady.
“Here’s the thing, Olivia Baker,” she says. “A man can give you the world. He can build you castles, hand you keys, lay down his empire at your feet. But if he never asks you what you want, it stops being a gift. It becomes a prison with gold bars.”
My chest tightens. She sees right through me.
She squeezes my hand, her grip warm and grounding. “You don’t need to run forever. You just need to figure out what’s yours. What you want. And if the man loves you—truly loves you—he’ll want that too, even if it scares him.”
Her words lodge deep, sparking something small and dangerous in my chest.
Hope.
***
