Olivia had almost reached the side exit when Liam caught up with her.
“Olivia.”
She kept walking.
The corridor beyond the ballroom was quieter, insulated from the music and cameras by thick velvet doors.
Her heels clicked against polished marble as she moved toward the private elevators.
“Olivia, stop.”
There had been a time when that voice could stop her anywhere.
In grocery aisles.
In airports.
In the middle of arguments.
Six years of marriage had trained her body to recognize every shade of Liam Hayes’s voice—the impatient one, the charming one, the exhausted one, the one he used when he wanted forgiveness without actually apologizing.
This voice was different.
Frightened.
Olivia stopped.
Slowly, she turned.
Liam stood several feet away, his tuxedo immaculate except for the champagne darkening one cuff.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then his eyes dropped.
Straight to her stomach.
“How far along are you?”
Olivia’s fingers tightened around the leather folder.
“You don’t get to ask me that.”
His face changed.
Not much.
Just enough.
“Are they mine?”
The words entered the space between them like something dirty.
Olivia stared at him.
Liam seemed to realize it too late.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes,” she said.
His breath caught.
Olivia watched the calculation happen behind his eyes.
Six months since the divorce.
Six months since he had told her their marriage had become an obligation.
Six months since she had found photographs of him leaving a hotel with Khloe Monroe and he had somehow managed to make Olivia feel old-fashioned for calling it betrayal.
Liam took a step closer.
“You were pregnant when we separated?”
“I didn’t know.”
“And when did you find out?”
“Three weeks later.”
His face went pale.
“You knew for nearly six months?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
Olivia almost laughed.
Instead, she looked at him with a calmness she had earned the expensive way.
“I called you.”
Liam frowned.
“What?”
“The day I found out.
I called you.”
“I never got a call.”
“You were in Milan.”
His expression tightened.
“With Khloe.”
Silence.
Olivia continued.
“I called twice.
Your assistant answered the second time.”
Liam’s jaw shifted.
“What assistant?”
“Daniel.”
Something flickered in his eyes.
She noticed.
“You remember now.”
Liam looked away.
Daniel Cross had been Liam’s executive assistant during the final months of their marriage—an efficient, nervous young man who treated Liam’s schedule like a military operation.
Olivia remembered his apology clearly.
Mr.
Hayes is unavailable.
Could I take a message?
She had been sitting on the edge of the bathtub when she answered.
Tell him his wife needs to speak with him about something urgent.
Daniel had hesitated.
Then quietly said, Mrs.
Hayes, he instructed me not to put personal calls through this week.
Olivia had stared at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test until they blurred.
Personal calls.
Six years of marriage reduced to an administrative category.
“I left a message,” Olivia said.
Liam rubbed a hand over his face.
“I never heard it.”
“That stopped mattering.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“It did to me.”
His eyes sharpened.
“They’re my children.”
There it was.
Not concern.
Possession.
Olivia recognized it instantly.
She held his gaze.
“They are children, Liam.
Not shares in one of your companies.”
His nostrils flared.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make me sound like some stranger.”
“You made yourself a stranger.”
The ballroom doors opened behind them.
Khloe appeared.
She had clearly attempted to rearrange her expression before stepping into the corridor, but humiliation was difficult to hide beneath makeup.
“Liam.”
He did not turn.
Khloe’s gaze went from him to Olivia.
Then to Olivia’s stomach.
Something cold entered her face.
“The photographers are asking questions.”
Liam said nothing.
“They want to know whether you knew.”
Still nothing.
Khloe walked closer.
“We need to go back in there.”
“I’m not going back.”
“Your investors are in that room.”
“My children are standing in this hallway.”
Olivia’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
Khloe went completely still.
For one brief, cruel second, Liam seemed to realize how absurd the sentence sounded.
Then Olivia said quietly, “No.
Their mother is standing in this hallway.
Your children haven’t met you.”
Khloe looked at him.
The humiliation in her face hardened into anger.
“You didn’t know she was pregnant?”
“No.”
“Apparently,” Olivia said, “he was very busy.”
Khloe’s eyes flashed.
“Don’t talk to me like I stole your husband.”
Olivia looked at her.
“You didn’t.”
Khloe blinked.
Olivia continued, “You took something I had already spent years trying to save.”
That landed harder than an insult.
Before Khloe could answer, footsteps sounded from the opposite end of the corridor.
Three men approached.
Two wore dark suits and the unmistakable posture of private security.
The third man walked between them.
He was tall, perhaps forty, dressed in a black tuxedo that looked simple until one noticed the hand stitching at the collar and the watch beneath his cuff.
Gabriel Mercer.
Even Liam went silent.
Everyone in New York knew Gabriel’s name.
Mercer Capital owned pieces of ports, hospitals, energy grids, luxury hotels, media companies, and enough Manhattan real estate to make maps look like family albums.
He rarely attended society events and almost never gave interviews.
Forty-one.
Unmarried.
Estimated fortune: twenty-eight billion dollars.
More importantly to Liam, Gabriel Mercer had refused to invest in Hayes Vision three years earlier.
Liam had called him arrogant for months afterward.
Gabriel’s gaze ignored him.
It went directly to Olivia.
“You disappeared.”
His voice was quiet.
Familiar.
Liam noticed.
So did Khloe.
Olivia’s shoulders relaxed for the first time all evening.
“I was leaving.”
“Without telling me?”
“I didn’t think I needed an escort.”
Gabriel glanced at her stomach.
“You said that last time, and then you nearly fainted in the lobby.”
Liam’s expression froze.
Olivia sighed.
“My blood pressure dropped.”
“Your doctor said to avoid standing too long.”
“My doctor also said I’m pregnant, not made of glass.”
The corner of Gabriel’s mouth moved.
“I remember.”
Something about the exchange felt intimate in a way touching would not have.
Liam stepped forward.
“How do you know her?”
Gabriel finally looked at him.
There was no visible hostility in his face.
That somehow made it worse.
“Good evening, Hayes.”
“How do you know Olivia?”
Olivia closed her eyes for half a second.
“Liam.”
But he was staring at Gabriel now.
Gabriel calmly adjusted his cuff.
“She works with me.”
Liam looked at Olivia.
“You work for Mercer?”
“With him,” she corrected.
Gabriel’s gaze flickered with amusement.
Liam caught that too.
“What does that mean?”
Olivia lifted the leather folder slightly.
“It means the documents I came here to deliver are related to my old shares in Hayes Vision.”
Liam’s anger faltered.
“What shares?”
“The founder allocation you gave me in year two.”
“That was converted during Series B.”
“No.”
Liam stared at her.
Olivia continued.
“You tried to convert them.”
His face tightened.
“I had lawyers handle that.”
“Yes.”
“And you signed.”
“No.”
The silence became dangerous.
Liam looked suddenly less like an angry ex-husband and more like the CEO of a public company realizing somebody had changed a number on his balance sheet.
“That’s impossible.”
“Your legal department apparently thought so too.”
Gabriel spoke.
“Until my attorneys reviewed the original incorporation agreements.”
Liam turned toward him.
“What do you have to do with this?”
Gabriel’s expression remained pleasant.
“Quite a lot.”
Olivia opened the folder.
Inside were several documents.
She handed the top one to Liam.
He read the first page.
Then the second.
The color left his face.
Khloe moved closer.
“What is it?”
He ignored her.
His eyes rose to Olivia.
“You sold them?”
Olivia nodded.
“To him?”
“Yes.”
“You sold Mercer your founder shares?”
“Most of them.”
Liam stared at Gabriel.
“How much?”
Gabriel smiled faintly.
“That isn’t your concern.”
“It’s my company.”
Gabriel’s smile disappeared.
“Not entirely.”
For the first time that evening, Liam Hayes looked afraid for something other than his reputation.
“How much does she own?”
Olivia answered.
“After the transaction?
Four point eight percent.”
Liam swallowed.
“And Mercer?”
Gabriel answered.
“Enough.”
One word.
That was all it took.
Liam understood.
Hayes Vision had struggled quietly during the last quarter.
Publicly, everything looked healthy, but internally, Liam had been fighting slowing sales, an expensive lawsuit, and nervous institutional investors.
A billionaire quietly purchasing founder shares was not merely an investment.
It was leverage.
“You planned this.”
Liam looked at Olivia as though betrayal had suddenly acquired her face.
Olivia almost admired the irony.
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Gabriel approached me.”
“Why?”
“Because unlike you, he knew what my shares were worth.”
Liam stepped closer.
“And what else does he want?”
Olivia’s face went cold.
Gabriel moved before she could answer.
Not dramatically.
One small step.
Enough to place himself slightly between them.
Liam noticed.
His mouth twisted.
“Oh.”
Olivia frowned.
“Don’t.”
“So that’s what this is.”
“Liam.”
“How long?”
Gabriel’s expression hardened.
Olivia knew exactly where Liam was going and hated that some part of her still felt embarrassed.
Not guilty.
Embarrassed.
Because Liam had always known how to make accusation feel like evidence.
“How long have you been sleeping with him?”
Khloe inhaled softly.
Gabriel took another step.
Olivia touched his arm.
“Don’t.”
Gabriel stopped.
Then Olivia faced Liam.
“I met Gabriel four months after you left.”
Liam’s eyes moved toward her stomach again.
She saw it happen.
A horrible thought taking shape.
He said nothing.
Olivia’s voice became dangerously quiet.
“Say it.”
Liam looked at her.
“Olivia—”
“You’re wondering whether they’re his.”
“No.”
“Yes, you are.”
Khloe looked between them.
Gabriel’s jaw tightened.
Olivia stepped closer to Liam.
“The twins are yours.”
Twins.
Liam’s eyes widened.
He had not caught it earlier.
“Twins?”
“Yes.”
His entire face changed.
For one second, Olivia saw the man from Queens.
The man who used to lie beside her in their tiny bed and whisper about the children they might have someday.
A girl with her eyes.
A boy with his stubbornness.
Two, maybe three, if they could afford it.
He looked almost young again.
“Two?”
Olivia nodded.
His lips parted.
And then a flash exploded from behind them.
Everyone turned.
A photographer stood at the ballroom doors.
He had somehow slipped past security.
His camera was aimed directly at Olivia and Gabriel, catching her hand still resting on Gabriel’s sleeve.
Another flash.
One of Gabriel’s security men moved immediately.
Too late.
By sunrise, that photograph would be everywhere.
Gabriel Mercer shielding his pregnant companion from furious ex-husband.
Liam looked at the camera.
Then at Gabriel.
Then at Olivia.
Something ugly returned to his face.
“You wanted this.”
Olivia stared at him.
“You think I wanted photographers chasing me while I’m six months pregnant?”
“You came to the biggest charity gala in Manhattan wearing white.”
Olivia actually laughed.
A small, disbelieving sound.
“I wore white because I like white.”
“You knew I’d be here.”
“Yes.
Because you were supposed to sign the transfer acknowledgment.”
His anger sharpened.
“You could have sent a lawyer.”
“And you could have answered my phone call six months ago.”
That silenced him.
Gabriel looked toward the elevators.
“We’re leaving.”
This time Olivia agreed.
Liam watched as Gabriel placed one hand near Olivia’s back—not touching her, but close enough to steady her if necessary.
The elevator doors opened.
Before Olivia stepped inside, Liam spoke.
“I want to see them.”
She stopped.
Her back remained toward him.
“They’re not born yet.”
“When they are.”
Olivia turned.
Liam looked wrecked now.
Not polished.
Not powerful.
Not the billionaire founder who had spent the past six months telling magazines that divorce had allowed him to “live authentically.”
Just Liam.
“I have rights.”
Olivia studied him.
“You do.”
He seemed surprised.
Perhaps he had expected resistance.
“But rights aren’t the same as trust,” she continued.
His expression fell.
“You’ll hear from my attorney.”
The doors closed.
By six-thirty the next morning, Olivia’s face was on every financial news channel in America.
By seven, international outlets had picked up the story.
By eight, #OliviaHayes was trending.
She hated that they still used his name.
She sat at Gabriel’s kitchen island in a borrowed robe, barefoot, eating toast while his penthouse television silently displayed a panel of commentators arguing about her pregnancy.
Gabriel walked in carrying two mugs.
“You shouldn’t watch.”
“I’m not listening.”
“You’re reading the captions.”
“That’s different.”
“It isn’t.”
He put a mug of herbal tea in front of her.
Olivia glanced at it.
“Where’s the coffee?”
“No.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“You’re becoming annoying.”
“I’m a billionaire.
People usually call it eccentric.”
Despite herself, she smiled.
Gabriel leaned against the opposite counter.
He had changed out of his tuxedo but not slept.
Neither had she.
Outside, morning poured silver over Manhattan.
Olivia looked at the silent television again.
One headline read:
LIAM HAYES BLINDSIDED BY EX-WIFE’S SECRET PREGNANCY.
Another:
MERCER, HAYES AND THE MYSTERY TWINS.
Gabriel picked up the remote and turned the screen off.
Olivia sighed.
“They’re going to find my doctor.”
“No.”
“They’ll try.”
“They’ll fail.”
She looked at him.
Gabriel had a frighteningly effective way of making problems disappear without sounding threatening.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Last night.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I know.”
That answer seemed to please him.
Olivia wrapped both hands around the mug.
“Liam’s going to fight.”
“Yes.”
“You sound certain.”
“I know men like him.”
Olivia smiled without humor.
“So do I.”
Gabriel watched her.
“Do you still love him?”
The question caught her off guard.
He had never asked.
Not once in the four months they had known each other.
Olivia considered lying.
Instead she looked toward the windows.
“I loved who he was when nobody was watching.”
Gabriel said nothing.
“He used to take the subway forty minutes just to bring me soup when I was sick,” she continued.
“He once spent an entire night fixing a bookshelf because I cried when my grandmother’s photo fell off it.
When his first investor rejected him, I found him sitting on our kitchen floor at three in the morning.”
Her voice softened.
“I sat there with him until sunrise.”
“And then?”
“Then people started watching.”
She looked at Gabriel.
“And Liam fell in love with being watched.”
Gabriel’s expression was unreadable.
“You deserve someone who acts the same in an empty room.”
Olivia’s heart gave one treacherous beat.
Before she could answer, Gabriel’s phone vibrated.
He checked the screen.
His face changed.
“What?”
He did not answer immediately.
“Gabriel.”
He turned the phone toward her.
A message from his chief legal officer filled the screen.
Olivia read it once.
Then again.
Her stomach tightened.
Someone had filed an emergency petition in family court.
Liam.
He was requesting immediate recognition of paternity rights, access to Olivia’s medical information, and an injunction preventing her from leaving New York before the twins were born.
Olivia stared at the screen.
“He filed this already?”
“Four sixteen this morning.”
Her hands went cold.
Gabriel took the phone back.
“He has excellent lawyers.”
“He has my lawyers.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“Not anymore.”
Three days later, Liam sat alone in his office forty-seven floors above Manhattan.
He had not seen Khloe since the gala.
Technically, they were still together.
Publicly, her representatives had released a statement asking the media to respect their privacy.
Privately, she had thrown a crystal perfume bottle at his bathroom mirror and accused him of humiliating her.
“You looked at her like you were still married,” she had screamed.
Liam had denied it.
Badly.
Now he sat with Olivia’s original incorporation agreement open on his desk.
Four point eight percent.
She had kept nearly five percent.
He could not stop thinking about it.
But he could not stop thinking about the twins either.
Twins.
He opened his phone again.
Olivia’s photograph filled the screen.
White dress.
One hand beneath her stomach.
Gabriel Mercer behind her.
Protective.
Calm.
Possessive without needing to prove it.
Liam hated him.
The office door opened.
Daniel Cross entered.
Liam looked up.
His former assistant appeared nervous.
“You wanted to see me?”
Liam stood.
“Six months ago, Olivia called.”
Daniel went pale.
“You told me she left a message.”
Daniel said nothing.
“Where is it?”
“Mr.
Hayes—”
“Where is it?”
Daniel swallowed.
“I deleted it.”
Liam stared.
“What?”
“You told me not to interrupt your Milan trip with personal matters.”
“That didn’t mean delete messages from my wife.”
“You said all communication from Mrs.
Hayes should go through the divorce attorneys.”
Liam’s voice dropped.
“What did she say?”
Daniel looked toward the door.
Then back at him.
“She said it was about a pregnancy.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Liam gripped the edge of his desk.
“You knew?”
Daniel’s eyes lowered.
“Yes.”
“And you never told me?”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“The morning after she called.”
Liam shook his head.
“No.”
“You were at the Bulgari Hotel.
Ms.
Monroe was there.
You told me if I mentioned Olivia again, I was fired.”
Liam remembered.
Not everything.
Enough.
Champagne.
A balcony.
Khloe laughing.
Daniel calling twice.
Liam rejecting the second call.
Something inside him went hollow.
Daniel reached into his jacket.
“There’s more.”
Liam looked up.
Daniel placed a small flash drive on the desk.
“What is that?”
“A backup.”
“Of what?”
“Mrs.
Hayes’s message.”
Liam stared at it.
“You said you deleted it.”
“From the company system.”
“Why keep a copy?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Because after I heard it, I thought someday you might need proof that someone tried to warn you.”
Liam plugged the drive into his computer.
One audio file appeared.
Eleven seconds.
He clicked it.
Olivia’s voice filled the room.
Quiet.
Shaking.
“Liam, I know you don’t want to speak to me, but I went to the doctor this morning.
I’m pregnant.
Please call me.
Whatever happens between us, I thought you should know.”
Then silence.
Liam sat perfectly still.
Eleven seconds.
That was all.
Eleven seconds separating ignorance from abandonment.
He played it again.
And again.
On the fourth time, Daniel quietly left.
Liam did not notice.
His phone buzzed.
A message from his attorney.
PATERNITY PETITION ACCEPTED.
EMERGENCY HEARING MONDAY.
Liam looked again at Olivia’s photograph.
For the first time since the gala, jealousy disappeared.
Something worse replaced it.
Regret.
Then another message arrived.
Unknown number.
No text.
Only an attachment.
Liam opened it.
It was a scanned medical document.
Olivia Carter.
Initial prenatal bloodwork.
His eyes moved down the page.
Dates.
Measurements.
Genetic screening.
Then he saw a handwritten notation near the bottom.
He stopped breathing.
PATERNITY MARKER — INCONSISTENT WITH PRESUMED FATHER.
Liam read it twice.
Then a third time.
His hands began to shake.
The twins were not his.
Or the document wanted him to believe they were not.
A second message appeared.
Unknown number.
THIS IS ONLY PAGE ONE.
Liam immediately called the number.
Disconnected.
He enlarged the medical document.
At the bottom was the name of the clinic.
Mercer Women’s Health Foundation.
Mercer.
His blood went cold.
Across town, Olivia stepped from the shower and found Gabriel standing beside the bedroom window.
His face was unusually tense.
“What happened?”
He turned.
“You need to sit down.”
Her heart accelerated.
“Is it the court case?”
“No.”
“The company?”
“No.”
“Gabriel, what?”
He held out his phone.
On the screen was a security photograph taken inside a hospital records room.
A woman stood beside an open filing cabinet.
Olivia recognized her immediately.
Khloe Monroe.
Olivia stared.
“What is she doing there?”
Gabriel’s voice was quiet.
“Stealing your medical records.”
Olivia looked up sharply.
“How did she even get access?”
“She didn’t.”
“Then—”
“She had help.”
He swiped to the next image.
A man entered the frame.
Olivia knew him too.
She had known him for six years.
Liam’s oldest friend.
His chief financial officer.
Nathan Cole.
Olivia’s mouth went dry.
Gabriel looked at her.
“There’s something else.”
He opened another file.
This one was not a photograph.
It was a contract.
Dated seven months earlier.
One month before Liam asked Olivia for a divorce.
The parties listed on the first page were Nathan Cole and Khloe Monroe.
Olivia began reading.
By the third paragraph, her entire body went cold.
Khloe had never accidentally met Liam.
She had been paid to meet him.
Paid to seduce him.
Paid to create a public scandal large enough to destabilize his marriage and eventually his company.
Olivia lifted her eyes.
“Why?”
Gabriel looked toward the city.
“Because someone wanted Liam distracted.”
“Who?”
He did not answer.
Olivia stared at him.
“Gabriel.”
Slowly, he turned back.
And for the first time since she had met him, Gabriel Mercer looked afraid of what he was about to tell her.
“The contract wasn’t Nathan’s idea.”
Olivia’s pulse thundered.
“Then whose was it?”
Gabriel took a breath.
“My father’s.”
Olivia froze.
Gabriel’s father had been dead for eleven years.
At least, that was what every newspaper, financial biography, and corporate record said.
“That’s impossible.”
“I know.”
“No, Gabriel.
Your father died.”
“That’s what I believed.”
A notification appeared on Gabriel’s phone.
Neither moved.
Then another.
And another.
Gabriel looked down.
His expression emptied.
Olivia stepped closer.
“What is it?”
He turned the screen toward her.
An encrypted message had arrived from an unknown sender.
Three lines.
The first:
GABRIEL, YOU WERE WARNED NOT TO INVOLVE YOURSELF WITH OLIVIA CARTER.
The second:
THE HAYES DIVORCE WAS NEVER ABOUT LIAM.
And the third:
ASK OLIVIA WHO HER REAL FATHER IS.
Olivia stopped breathing.
Because there was one thing neither Liam nor Gabriel knew.
One thing Olivia’s mother had begged her never to tell anyone.
Carter was not the surname on Olivia’s original birth certificate.
Mercer was.
…If you want to know what happened next, please type “YES” and like for more.
Source: Stories of Destiny · Thanh Thanh
