Chapter 45

Olivia's POV

The soft murmur of voices echoed through the corridor as I passed by the production offices, my steps slowing when I caught a familiar voice—Ezra's.

I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but something about the urgency in his tone made me stop just outside his slightly ajar door.

"I told you, we can't afford to let this get out of hand," Ezra's voice was tense. "I understand what you're trying to do, but we need to keep Olivia focused... No, I won't risk the show's reputation for it."

My heart pounded against my ribs. Keep Olivia focused? Risk the show's reputation?

Fury bubbled inside me. Without thinking, I shoved the door open, my voice sharp and accusing. "So it was you."

Ezra spun around, his eyes wide in shock. "Olivia—"

I stormed inside, slamming the door shut behind me. "I knew something was off, and now I have proof. You're the one spreading the rumors, aren't you?"

His jaw tightened. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

I took a step closer, my hands clenched into fists. "Don't lie to me, Ezra. I heard you on the phone."

For a moment, he just stared at me, and then he let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You heard part of the conversation, Olivia. Not the whole thing."

I folded my arms across my chest, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in my stomach. "Then explain."

He leaned against his desk, crossing his arms. "I was talking to your agency. They've been breathing down my neck since the rumors started, pushing me to capitalize on them for ratings." His voice softened slightly. "They're trying to squeeze every bit of publicity out of you before your contract ends."

I blinked, caught off guard. "My... agency?"

Ezra nodded. "Yeah. They're under pressure to justify keeping you on their roster, and with Elijah's announcement and the media frenzy, they want to position you as their biggest asset while they still can."

I shook my head, anger swirling inside me. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Because ever since you told me about Zoya... I've been trying to protect you." His eyes softened. "Sometimes that means doing things that could technically breach both of our contracts. I didn't want to put any legal liability on you."

I scoffed. "Protect me? You thought keeping me in the dark was protection?"

Ezra sighed again, his shoulders sagging. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but yes. Olivia, I've always been on your side. I wanted you to find love, and when you did... I knew what you were up against." He paused, his expression pained. "I've seen what my brother Sebastian goes through every day. I didn't want that for you."

Hearing him mention Sebastian struck a nerve. I could see the sincerity in his face, but I couldn't shake the paranoia that had settled deep in my chest. "And I'm supposed to just believe you?"

Ezra held my gaze. "I've never lied to you, Olivia. I know I've made mistakes, but I've always wanted what's best for you."

I swallowed, my anger beginning to simmer down into something closer to confusion. "Then if it's not you... who is it?"

Ezra leaned forward, his tone grave. "Whoever it is, they're not just feeding the media, Olivia. Your agency knows things they shouldn't. Someone close to you is giving them inside information."

A shiver ran down my spine. "Someone... close?"

Ezra nodded. "Someone with access—someone who knows where you are, what you're doing, and what you care about most."

I felt my pulse quicken. Suddenly, every conversation, every sideways glance, every lingering suspicion flooded my mind.

Ezra studied my face carefully. "I get that you're angry, Olivia. But you need to focus right now. Whoever's doing this... they're playing the long game."

I took a shaky breath, my thoughts racing. "If they're feeding my agency information, then they're trying to control the narrative."

Ezra nodded. "Exactly. And that means they have a plan."

I exhaled sharply, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. "Then we need to find out who it is."

Ezra gave me a firm look. "We will."

I left Ezra's office with my mind spinning. His words kept echoing in my head—I've always been on your side, Olivia.

Part of me wanted to believe him. He had always been a steady presence, someone I trusted. But trust was hard to come by these days.

The idea that my agency had been manipulating this entire situation behind the scenes left a bitter taste in my mouth. And worse, someone close to me was feeding them inside information. Someone I trusted.

I needed to get out, clear my head.

Without thinking, I pulled out my phone and texted Zoya.

Me: Lunch? Please?

Her reply was instant.

Zoya: Be there in 20.

---

I poked at my salad, stirring the leafy greens around with my fork without much interest. Across from me, Zoya was watching me carefully, her dark eyes filled with quiet concern.

"You're quiet," she finally said, sipping her coffee.

I let out a small sigh, setting my fork down. "Yeah. It's Ezra.."

"Ezra?" she asked.

I nodded, exhaling slowly. "I overheard him on the phone today. At first, I thought he was the one spreading the rumors." I looked up at her. "I barged into his office and accused him."

Zoya's eyebrows lifted slightly. "And?"

I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. "Turns out I was wrong. He was talking to my agency. They've been pressuring him to milk the rumors for publicity."

Zoya's lips pressed into a thin line. "Your agency? Wow, assholes."

I nodded. "They want to maximize my value before my contract ends." I glanced out the window, watching people walk by outside. "Ezra didn't tell me because he said he was trying to protect me. Apparently, he's been working around the contract to make sure I don't get in trouble."

Zoya studied me for a moment. "Do you believe him?"

I hesitated, biting the inside of my cheek. "I don't know. He swears he's on my side, that he wants me to be happy." I swallowed hard. "He said he didn't want me to go through what his brother Sebastian did."

Zoya softened at the mention of Sebastian, nodding slowly. "That sounds like Ezra."

I shrugged. "Yeah, but it still doesn't change the fact that someone close to us is feeding my agency all this inside information."

Zoya's expression darkened. "I think it's Anthony."

I paused, considering it. "I don't know who to trust anymore."

Before Zoya could respond, my phone buzzed on the table. I glanced down and saw Ava's name flashing on the screen with a short message.

Ava: It's done.

My stomach dropped, and I quickly unlocked my phone. Within moments, the news flooded my notifications.

Breaking: Elijah Rivera Speaks Out on Divorce – "We Grew Apart"

"Sources Confirm Olivia Lopez and Elijah Lopez Split Over Family Planning Differences"

"Official Statement: Divorce Was Amicable and Planned for a Year"

I stared at the headlines in disbelief. No mention of Zoya. No scandals. Just a carefully crafted narrative that gave everyone exactly what they wanted—an easy explanation.

Zoya leaned in to read over my shoulder. "Wow... so, it worked."

I swallowed, feeling the tension in my chest ease slightly. "It looks like it."

She watched me closely. "How do you feel?"

I let out a small, shaky breath. "Honestly? Relieved." I met her gaze. "This should take the speculation off our backs for a while."

Zoya reached across the table, squeezing my hand gently. "That's a good thing, right?"

I nodded, offering her a small smile. "Yeah. It's a good thing."

But deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over. Whoever was behind this wasn't just after a simple divorce scandal.

Zoya's POV

I was halfway through organizing the scattered scripts on my coffee table when a knock at the door sent a ripple of unease through me.

Another visitor.

Lately, it felt like everyone had a reason to show up unannounced—Olivia seeking comfort, Ava with her guilt, Sebastian with his meddling. But something about this knock felt different, heavier.

With a deep breath, I crossed the room and pulled the door open.

My mother stood there.

I froze, gripping the door handle tighter, my throat tightening at the sight of her. She looked... older somehow. The perfect facade she always maintained seemed cracked at the edges, her expression softer than I remembered.

"Mom?" My voice was cautious, clipped. "What are you doing here?"

She shifted nervously, her eyes scanning me like she was memorizing every detail. "I... I wanted to see you," she said, her voice quieter than I expected. "To talk."

I crossed my arms. "Talk about what?"

She sighed, wringing her hands together—a nervous habit I hadn't seen since I was a child. "After you left, I did a lot of thinking... about everything you said to me." Her gaze dropped momentarily. "And you were right. I never took your side. I never fought for you the way I should have."

The honesty in her words cut through me like a blade. I wasn't sure if I was ready to hear it.

"So what? You're here now, and everything's supposed to be okay?" I shot back, bitterness creeping into my tone despite myself.

She took a deep breath, nodding. "No, Zoya. I know I can't undo what I've done... or what I didn't do." She paused, her voice breaking slightly. "But I left him."

I blinked, staring at her in disbelief. "You... left Dad?"

She nodded, her eyes filled with something I hadn't seen before—genuine regret. "Yes. I packed my things and left. It wasn't easy, but... I realized I've spent my whole life trying to please a man who never really saw me." She looked at me again, tears brimming in her eyes. "And I did the same to you."

I swallowed hard, emotions warring inside me. "Why now?" I whispered. "Why after all these years?"

She smiled sadly. "Because it took losing you to finally see things clearly. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I needed you to know... I'm trying to be better. And I'll be here when you're ready."

Her words settled over me like a heavy weight, and for a moment, I didn't know what to say. The years of resentment, the countless times I begged for her support and never got it—it wasn't something I could just forget.

"I don't know if I can let you back in," I admitted, my voice trembling. "I don't know if I want to."

She nodded, her smile tight with understanding. "That's okay. Take your time."

A silence stretched between us, thick with things unsaid.

Just as I opened my mouth to say something—anything—Olivia appeared behind me, her expression cautious. "Everything okay?"

I turned slightly, exhaling shakily. "Yeah... I think so."

My mother glanced at Olivia, her gaze assessing but not judgmental. "You have good people in your life," she said softly.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I know."

She took a step back, giving me space. "I won't push. I just... I'll be here if you ever want to talk."

I nodded once, and with that, she walked away, leaving me standing there with emotions I wasn't ready to unpack.

I closed the door and leaned against it, my chest heaving with an exhale I hadn't realized I was holding.

Olivia's voice was soft, concerned. "You okay?"

I forced a small smile, walking to the couch and plopping down beside her. "I don't know. It's just... weird, you know?"

She studied me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Yeah. But... are you glad she came?"

I shrugged, staring at the ceiling. "I guess part of me is. But another part of me just... wants it all to stop."

Olivia leaned in closer, her voice teasing. "Maybe you should move."

I smirked, shaking my head. "Honestly? I've been thinking about it."

She laughed, the sound cutting through the tension in my chest. "Why? Because your apartment's turning into Grand Central Station?"

I grinned, straddling her lap and looping my arms around her neck. "Because they keep interrupting this."

Her laughter faded into something softer as her hands found my waist. "Zoya..."

I pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips. "We should find a place with soundproof walls."

Olivia smiled, her eyes dark with something deeper. "Or... we could just lock the door."

I giggled against her lips, we stared into each other's eyes, a quiet understanding passing between us.

"I love your eyes," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

"You've mentioned," I replied, giggling shyly, feeling the warmth of her gaze like a slow burn under my skin.

"And I love the way you look at me," she continued, pressing her lips softly to the corner of my mouth. "It's filled with so much love."

I couldn't hold back any longer. I captured her lips in mine again, the kiss deepening almost instantly. It wasn't soft this time; it was needy, desperate. My hips moved involuntarily against her lap, seeking more of her warmth, her touch.

Her hands found their way to my hips, guiding me, pressing me down firmly onto her lap. I moaned against her lips, the friction sending waves of heat through my body.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging gently, grounding me. I reached out, gently pulling her hands away and placing them at her sides. I slid off her lap, holding her gaze, letting the anticipation simmer between us.

She looked at me with wide, curious eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly, waiting—wondering what I'd do next.

I kneeled in front of her, my fingers hooking into the waistband of her pants, slowly pulling them down. Her breathing hitched, and her lips parted in a silent gasp.

I licked my lips, pressing soft, lingering kisses along her thighs, savoring the way she trembled beneath my touch.

Her hand slid into my hair, sweeping it away from my face, gathering it into a loose bun. She bit her lip seductively, her fingers tightening just enough to make me shiver.

She tugged at my hair slightly, guiding me exactly where she needed me most. The way she directed me, so sure, so wanting, sent a low moan escaping my lips. I pressed my mouth against her, feeling her entire body tense, a loud moan spilling from her lips as she threw her head back in surrender.

And just for tonight, nothing else existed. Just us.