Chapter 4 - The Lobby Meeting
The Whitmore Building was a sleek forty-story monolith of dark glass and polished steel located in the heart of the Loop.
When I walked through the revolving doors at precisely 9:58 AM, Ryan right beside me, the receptionist didn't even look up until I slammed my hand down on the marble reception desk.
"Olivia Grant," I said clearly. "Here to see Barbara Whitmore. And don't tell her I'm 'surprised' or 'confused.' Tell her I'm here."
The receptionist blinked, recognized my face from the society pages, and frantically buzzed upstairs. Five minutes later, a private elevator chime pinged, and Daniel stepped out.
He looked terrible. His suit was wrinkled, his tie askew, and the confident charm that had drawn me to him two years ago was completely gone.
"Liv," he said, stepping forward. "Thank God. Mother didn't want you to come here, but—"
"Shut up, Daniel," I said, walking past him toward the private elevator bank. "Where is she?"
"Olivia, listen to me," he caught my arm, his grip surprisingly firm. "You don't understand what my mother has tied up in this project. The city contract... if we lose the waterfront bid, Whitmore Holdings goes under. All of it. My father’s legacy, our homes, everything."
I pulled my arm away from his grasp as if his skin burned. "So you decided to steal mine to save yours?"
"It wasn't stealing," Daniel hissed, his voice cracking with desperation. "It was a merger! We're married! What's mine is yours, and what's yours is—"
"Mine," I finished for him. "At least it was, until you and your mother conspired behind my back to rob me on our wedding day."
"She made me do it," Daniel blurted out, the words tumbling past his lips before he could stop them.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
Ryan stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "What did you say?"
Daniel looked around the empty corridor, his chest heaving as the panic finally broke through his defenses. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. "You don't know what she's like, Liv. Ever since my father died, she’s controlled every cent, every contract, every breath I take. She said if I didn't get your properties into the family trust before the wedding, she would cut me out of the company entirely. She wrote the papers. She set up the digital keys. I just... I couldn't stand the thought of being broke."
I stared at the man I had married. Not a mastermind. Not a cold-hearted villain.
Just a weak man who had traded his wife’s inheritance to appease a tyrant.
"That's pathetic, Daniel," I said, my voice devoid of anger, leaving only a hollow, freezing pity.
Before Daniel could answer, the glass doors behind us slid open.
Barbara stepped out of the executive elevator, flanked by two corporate security guards in black suits. Her expression was ice.
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"Well," Barbara said, her voice echoing in the marble lobby. "I see the little girl has finally decided to grow up. Too bad she arrived too late."
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