Brooklyn stood a few feet away, her expression conveying genuine concern. She was observant and decent enough to grasp the severity of the situation without needing an explanation. But Leo saw the way Olivia’s eyes darted toward Brooklyn. He saw the extra layer of hurt flashing across Olivia’s face. She was drowning in her husband's betrayal, and now she was standing in the entryway wondering if she had disrupted Leo’s personal life.
He hated that she had to wonder. But he could not explain it right now. Not with Olivia looking like she might shatter if the wind blew too hard. Not with James's lies sitting in the folder between them.
Olivia took a half-step backward. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shown up without calling. I didn't mean to interrupt."
"You did nothing wrong, Liv," Leo cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Brooklyn offered a supportive smile. "You're not interrupting. It's okay. Really. I'll give you both some privacy." She turned and walked gracefully down the hall, disappearing from view without demanding any further introductions.
"Thank you," Leo called after her, but his attention was already returning to Olivia.
He guided her into the living room. Olivia sat on the edge of the sofa, gripping the black folder as though letting go of it would make the nightmare real. Leo sat on the adjacent armchair, keeping a respectful distance so he would not crowd her.
"Take your time," he told her.
Olivia spoke in fragmented, painful pieces. She explained going into James's office to find the paperwork for the bakery competition. She detailed the bank statements, theoutbound transfers, and the authorization forms. She described looking at her own signature on documents she had never signed. She recounted James walking in, trying to convince her she was panicking, insisting she did not understand what she was looking at.
Leo listened. Every word she spoke made it harder for him to maintain his composure. His jaw locked. His hands curled into fists resting on his knees. His gaze moved from the folder in her hands back to the devastation in her green eyes. He kept his anger strictly managed, ensuring it did not become another burden for her to carry.
He asked only practical questions. "Did you take pictures?"
Olivia nodded. "On my phone."
"Do you have the originals?"
"These are the originals. I took them from the filing cabinet."
"Does James know you have them?"
"Yes."
"Did he try to stop you from leaving?" Leo asked.
"He told me I was overreacting. He told me I would regret it."
Leo pushed the next question out with great difficulty. "Did he touch you?"
"No," Olivia said. "Not like that. But he tried to make me feel crazy. He tried to make me believe I was wrong, even with the proof right in my hands."
Olivia’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, and she froze the second she saw the screen.
"Do you want to answer that?" Leo asked.
She shook her head. The screen lit up again. James was sending a barrage of messages.
Where are you?
You're making this bigger than it needs to be.
Come home so we can talk.
You're going to regret this if you keep acting like this.
Olivia, answer me.
Leo read the shift from feigned concern to blatant manipulation just by watching the tension in her shoulders. "Don't respond yet," he advised.
"He will be furious," Olivia whispered.
