A week had passed, but for Olivia time no longer moved in a straight line; it felt like a labyrinth where every turn led her back to the same place: the night that had changed everything.

The memory came in blurred flashes—disconnected fragments, a scent, a touch, then the emptiness afterward. She had guarded her virginity for years, believing her first time would be given to the man she loved. But fate—cruel and treacherous—had stripped her of that promise in a suite where she thought she was with Peter.

Now she carried the consequences: an unexpected pregnancy, a traumatic breakup with the boyfriend she had believed was perfect, and the responsibility of becoming a single mother.

But the heaviest burden wasn’t only in her womb—it was in her heart. How was she supposed to tell her parents? How could she face her father, a man with a fragile heart, who had always called her “my Pearl”? The pride he felt for his daughter was so immense that Olivia feared the news would be a sword straight through his chest.

That morning, she went straight to the company. She worked as she always had, trying to hide behind spreadsheets and reports. The corporate world, at least, offered her the comfort of routine. A place where she was still seen as the competent professional—and not as the woman shattered by secrets.

When she returned home that night, she found her mother sitting on the couch with an envelope in her hands.

“Sweetheart, Camila’s wedding invitation arrived,” she said, handing her the envelope with a smile.

Olivia stared at her, stunned.

“What do you mean?” she murmured, hesitating. “Camila is getting married?”

“In three days,” Ana said, raising her eyebrows. “I thought it was strange that the groom’s name wasn’t on the invitation.”

Olivia took the envelope, her fingers trembling. Her heart sped up. Camila was her best friend. They had shared secrets, dreams, sleepless nights. How could Olivia not know about this wedding? And why the rush—why the mystery?

“That’s… strange,” she whispered, lost in thought.

“Love comes like that,” Ana said, unaware of the weight of her own words. “It runs you over and changes everything.”

Olivia forced a faint smile, but inside her the cold only grew.

---

The next morning, at Trident Marine, the assistant walked into Liam’s office.

“S-sir…” she swallowed hard. “I was reviewing your expenses for the month and… there were two unusual charges on this card.” She handed him a sheet of paper. “A large payment… and a gynecological exam.”

He took the paper between his fingers and read it. The corner of his mouth moved a single centimeter.

“Have it investigated,” he said, his voice low—steady, sharp. “I want the full movements of the woman who used this card. Where she went, who she spoke to, times—everything. By tomorrow.”

The following day, Liam received an envelope: photos, records, a report, a copy of the exam.

“The heir already exists,” he said at last, in a tone that sounded almost satisfied. “Now all that’s missing is the marriage.” His enigmatic eyes gleamed. “And this involvement with loan sharks…” he murmured coldly. “That will be the perfect weapon.”

---

The three days dragged by. Olivia’s body felt more fragile; the nausea didn’t let up, and her heart raced with every memory. She decided she would go to the wedding.

She dressed beautifully: a long blue gown that highlighted her delicate beauty, making her fair skin glow and her blue eyes shine. The heels supported her elegant posture. A soft lipstick warmed the paleness of her mouth, completing the image of a stunning woman—even with pain in her gaze. Despite everything that had happened, and despite her friend’s icy silence, she couldn’t miss the wedding. After all, they had been friends since childhood.

The luxurious ballroom was lit like a palace. White flowers spilled from golden arrangements, chandeliers reflected in crystal glasses, and a string quartet filled the air with classical melodies.

Olivia walked in at the exact moment the officiant spoke the final words:

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Olivia lifted her eyes—and the world shattered.

The groom was her ex-boyfriend.

Her breath caught. Her heart slammed against her ribs. The image felt like a cruel lie: Camila, her childhood friend, smiling beneath the veil; Peter, the man Olivia had dreamed of building a life with, leaning down to kiss her.

“Oh my God…” she whispered, barely audible. “This has to be a nightmare…”

Beside her, her father’s voice pulled her out of the shock:

“Sweetheart… what is going on here?” he asked, confused and distressed, looking from Camila to Peter, then to Olivia, as if searching for an impossible explanation.

Applause echoed through the room. Cameras flashed.

There were murmurs everywhere—whispered comments, sidelong glances, voices that fell silent when she walked by. It hadn’t been long since she had been Peter’s girlfriend, and now she was there, forced to watch him get married. The wedding of her ex, of her great love, to her best friend. To Olivia, it all felt like a cruel performance staged by life itself—and she, reduced to nothing but a spectator, was being forced to applaud her own defeat.

During the reception, Camila approached her. The bride looked radiant in every gesture, but the shine in her eyes wasn’t love—it was triumph.

“Olivia…” Camila whispered, leaning in with a victorious smile. “It must hurt to realize that while you were crying over him, I was taking everything you lost.”

Olivia felt a knot tighten in her throat.

“Camila… we were friends,” Olivia said, her voice trembling. “I trusted you. I told you everything. Why did you do this to me?”

Camila’s eyebrows lifted, her tone dripping with venom.

“Correction… you were never my friend.” Camila smiled cruelly. “I just tolerated you. That little innocent act never fooled me… deep down you were always just a slut dressed up like an angel.”

The words hit Olivia like a slap, but she forced herself to stay steady.

“You’re a snake,” she said, drawing a slow breath. “And the slut is you—sleeping with a man who was taken.”

“Of course,” Camila replied coolly. “While you played frigid and then spread your legs for a stranger, Peter moaned my name in pleasure while I rode him.” Her voice was pure poison.

Olivia’s eyes filled with tears. The knot in her throat threatened to choke her.

“And to think I loved you like a sister…” she said, her voice heavy with disappointment. “You two deserve each other.”

“You know…” Camila said, lifting her chin, victorious. “I’m curious to see your daddy’s reaction when he finds out the whole truth. A conservative man like him… do you think his heart can take it?”

Olivia’s legs weakened, the floor spinning beneath her feet. She fought to stay standing, on the verge of collapsing in front of everyone.

That was when she felt a firm hand at her waist. The touch was steady, warm—an anchor. She turned and met Liam’s green eyes.

He pulled her close with ease, leaned in, and pressed a soft kiss to her lips—right there, in front of everyone.

“Sorry I’m late, sweetheart,” he said loudly, so everyone could hear.