Chapter 173

There was a knock on the door, and Olivia looked up.

“Ms. Olivia? Mr. Tyler would like to speak with you.”

It was Tyler’s assistant. Olivia knew it had to be something serious. Maybe it was what she feared. She could sense that they had been preparing for this since that day.

“Okay, I’m coming,” she replied, procrastinating for a bit before finally deciding to get out of bed.

Just then, her phone vibrated–it was a message from Claude.

She stared at it for a moment, then froze.

Tyler waited for about 10 minutes, but Olivia still hadn’t shown up. Breakfast had gone cold, but he understood why she was taking her time, so he didn’t rush her. Instead, he occupied himself with reading the news.

About half an hour later, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. The assistant noticed Olivia leaving the dining hall again.

Tyler looked up as Olivia approached, her face pale. He set his papers down.

“You… sent an invitation to Claude?” Olivia asked.

Tyler feigned calmness. “Yes, I did. Why?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Don’t you know the connection between the Pearces and us? It’s only natural for him to receive an invitation. Unless you think he shouldn’t know,” Tyler replied.

Olivia took a deep breath, pushing down her emotions. “No. I just didn’t want Sophie to know.”

“She will, sooner or later. I’ll explain to her if she asks. How’s that sound?” Tyler said smoothly.

Every word he spoke made him sound innocent, but Olivia was sure his intentions were anything but.

Tyler glanced at the cold breakfast. “Take a seat. The food’s gone cold.”

Reluctantly, Olivia complied.

“How’s your injury?” he asked.

“It’s getting better,” Olivia replied, forcing the words out. “Thank you for your concern.”

Tyler got straight to the point. “IVF after the banquet. Are you ready?”

“Naomi’s waiting, right?”

“Mm–hmm.”

Olivia had no idea what her sister was going through, but the last time she saw her, Naomi was in critical condition. At this point, she had no more questions, “Okay,”

A car horn sounded outside, and the maid informed Tyler, “It’s Mrs. Jones.”

Olivia grimaced, tightening her grip on the fork.