The meeting had ended. The directors were still chatting as they gathered their folders, closed their laptops, and tried to act natural after the intensity of what had just happened. Olívia’s authority had been established in front of an entire board of directors, and Liam’s gaze had burned in her direction as if it could pierce through her skin.Liam maintained his usual cold, impeccable composure as he spoke with Alex. But behind his eyes, the memory of the photo still smoldered.Frederico wrapped things up with a brief comment, shook hands with two directors, then turned to Olívia.— Come, my dear. — His tone was polite, yet firm. — I want to show you your office.She nodded, feeling the weight of several stares on her back as she walked out beside the patriarch. She knew that from that moment on, every step she took inside Trident would be measured, analyzed, judged. But right then, all she could feel was the lingering memory of Liam’s hand on her waist—still burning.Her heels ec

Olívia crossed her arms, drawing a clear line.— After all… wives send pictures like that to their husbands. Lingerie, nudes… completely normal things between couples.She paused—brief, deliberate—just long enough for him to feel the impact.— It was just part of the act, Liam. — she finished, cold, though a dangerous glint flickered in her eyes. — Exactly like you always wanted.She delivered the words calmly, as if she had torn out her own heart and set it on the table—without letting him see the wound.He watched her in silence.A silence that had weight. Volume. Temperature.His jaw tightened.His breathing shifted.Something wild flashed through his green eyes.— That’s it? — he asked quietly. — Nothing more?— Nothing. — Olívia replied firmly. — Your grandfather was testing me. So everything was strategic. The lingerie, the photo… all of it to keep the act alive.Liam took a step forward.She didn’t move.— Interesting. — he murmured, closing the distance. — Because… the photo m

Laura picked at a piece of fruit, clearly in high spirits.— Grandma, pretty soon she won’t even be able to take a proper shower. — she commented casually, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. — She has to enjoy it now. — She grabbed a grape from the bowl, rolling it between her fingers before popping it into her mouth. — And about Liam getting jealous… — she added, casting Olívia a knowing glance. — Oh, that’s easy to fix. — Resting her chin on her hand, she barely hid the playful mischief in her tone. — All my sister-in-law has to do is put on some killer lingerie and dance for him. — Her smile widened, elegant and amused. — That’ll tame the beast in no time.Olívia immediately grew flustered, her cheeks warming. Her hand dropped to the napkin as if she could hide behind any possible gesture. Her polite smile turned shy, almost nervous, and she lowered her gaze to her plate, unsure where to look.Olga’s eyes widened before she even realized it, her hand freezing midair.— Laura!

Frederico, who had been silent until then, lifted his gaze from his cutlery and studied his grandson. Then, unhurried, he looked at Bárbara. Finally, his eyes settled on Olívia.Laura, far too outraged to keep any filter, leaned forward slightly. The warm light reflected in her eyes, now sharp and unwavering.— Why wasn’t Olívia with you on that trip? — Laura asked, serious. — And why, exactly, did you come back on the jet with Bárbara?Liam raised his gaze slowly, meeting his sister’s. For a second—just one—his coldness faltered.— Business, Princess. — he said, with a faint half-smile, the kind only Laura could draw from him, even in the worst moments. — Nothing more.— Business. — she repeated, dryly. — Of course. Always so… professional.She didn’t want to fight him. She wanted him to see what he was doing to Olívia.Bárbara smiled, taking a sip of wine.— It was a smooth trip. — she added, as if helping. — Even though your brother is terrible company when he’s in a bad mood.Fred

While the table downstairs simmered with tension, the bedroom upstairs was drowned in a dense silence.Liam shut the door behind him with a firm motion, the click of the lock marking the beginning of a territory where he believed he still had control.Olívia took a few steps away, instinctively putting distance between them. She stopped near the window, her arms crossed tightly over her body, as if she were trying to shield herself with her own embrace.She looked at him, her breathing still uneven, but her gaze steady.— There. — she said, her voice stripped of sweetness. — Your private stage. Now talk, husband.Liam rested a hand on the doorknob for a second, as though he needed that physical anchor to keep his anger from taking over. Then he stepped away from the door and walked toward her, his movements far too calm to be natural.— You’re upset. — he began, measuring every word. — This isn’t the time to—— Don’t use that neutral boardroom voice on me, Liam. — she cut in, leaving