Chapter 3
Bystanders whispered among themselves, their eyes darting between Olivia and Victoria.
“My god, I’ve never seen someone kneel to apologize over matching outfits!”
“Alexander doted on Victoria so much!”
Olivia knelt in the crowd, her heart bleeding with pain.
Victoria ordered the waiter to bring ten bottles of strong liquor, smiling brightly: “Miss Brown, I’ll forgive you if y you finish all this!”
Her innocent doll-face radiated sunny delight.
But Olivia clearly saw malice and triumph swirling in those eyes.
Olivia instinctively looked at Alexander, about to remind him of her alcohol allergy.
Yet Alexander anticipated her words, his thin lips curling with scorn: “What’s alcohol allergy?
Olivia, nobody’s going to coddle you here.”
His words dripped venomous ice.
As if he weren’t the same Alexander who shattered her glass years ago, furious she neglected her health.
Olivia stayed silent, pouring liquor down her throat.
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High–proof alcohol scorched her stomach like fire, pain twisting her face as cold sweat poured.
Ten bottles burned away the last remaining affection between her and Alexander.
Gritting through agony, Olivia glared at him with bloodshot eyes: “Satisfied now?”
“Satisfied?”
Alexander wrapped an arm around Victoria’s waist, his tone doting: “Darling, what else do you want her to do to apologize?”
Victoria flushed pink, casting Olivia a contemptuous glance, “Why not make her wear a maid outfit? Let everyone experience kneeling service?”
As if unsatisfied, Victoria added cheerfully: “Don’t worry, Miss Brown. If you please my friends, I’ll have Alexander pay you.”
“How about three thousand an hour?
Same price as that wine your mother stole from us.”
At those words, Olivia’s face turned deathly pale.
Back when her father died, leaving them destitute.
Sophia became a maid at the Beaumont family through an agency, only to endure harassment from James Beaumont for her beauty.
Framed by Victoria for theft, she was thrown out.
Her mother’s life had been nothing but misery
From stealing wine to stealing men–driven to suicide!
The victim bore undeserved guilt while the tormentors slept soundly.
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How ironic?
Olivia clenched her teeth, voice sharpening: “My mother never stole wine! Nor men!”
As soon as she spoke, another burst of laughter erupted.
Only Alexander frowned in displeasure: “Olivia, still making excuses?
Dare you claim Victoria framed your mother?”
“You’d better know slander is illegal-”
“Then call the police.”
Olivia stared coldly: “Let them investigate the real liar!”
Alexander sneered: “Pity this is Washington. I call the shots here.”
“Do what Victoria says before I still have patience.”
Tears welled in Olivia’s eyes as she numbly pulled on the maid uniform.
Her lovely face endured slaps, her clean hands offered poisoned chalices, her self–esteem shattered.
After everyone left, Alexander finally relented: “Next time, it won’t be this easy.”
He then wrapped his arm around Victoria’s waist and entered the car.
The vehicle soon began rocking violently, occasional sounds of intimacy escaping its confines.
In her daze, Olivia seemed to see the past replay before her eyes.
Alexander forced himself on her in the car, spewing cruel words while
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holding her so tightly it seemed he wanted to crush her.
She’d believed he held at least some affection for her.
That his hurtful words stemmed from guilt toward Margaret Sinclair.
Never had she imagined Alexander simply wanted to defile and punish
her.
Tears blurred her vision before darkness swallowed Olivia.
When consciousness returned, she found herself suspended hundreds of feet in the air.
A single downward glance unleashed nauseating weightlessness.
Olivia’s eyes widened in terror, muffled screams trapped behind tape as “Mmmph! Mmmph!” escaped her.
Icy winds lashed her frail body, threatening to tear her from the ropes.
Only when torrential rain began did Alexander’s glacial voice slice through the storm: “Olivia, I underestimated you.”
“I asked you to apologize, yet you brought a miniature camera to record us?”
“Tell me what media outlet in the entire Washington would dare to go against the Sinclair Group?”
“Who’d ever broadcast your footage for you?”
Olivia’s heart sank at his words.
