Chapter 4

Olivia POV

One year later.

The salt-laced ocean breeze ruffled the white linen curtains of the nursery. I stood silent by the crib, looking down at Finn.

He was flawless. He had my nose, a delicate slope, and, unfortunately, his father's rebellious dark curls.

He was sleeping soundly, his tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that calmed the anxious beat of my own heart.

We were living on a private island off the coast of Maine, a property my mother had quietly acquired through a shell company. It was isolated, rugged, and above all else, safe.

No one knew we were here. To the outside world, Olivia Sterling was a reclusive divorcee recovering from a tragedy.

I lifted Finn into my arms, breathing in his scent of warm milk and baby powder. He stirred, his lashes fluttering before opening his eyes.

They were blue. Bright, piercingly clear blue.

"Hi, my love," I cooed.

Being a mother was harder than I had ever expected, but it was also more rewarding than anything I had ever done. I had found myself here, in the quiet moments. I wasn't just Michael's wife anymore. I was Olivia. I was Finn's mom.

I carried him downstairs to the kitchen, where sunlight spilled across the hardwood floors. My mother was sitting at the island, reading a tablet.

"Look who's awake," she said, a soft smile touching her lips as she reached out for him.

I handed him over and poured myself a cup of coffee. "Any news?" I asked, nodding at the tablet.

Elizabeth looked up. The smile shifted, curling into something sharper. It was a vicious expression.

"Michael's company filed for bankruptcy this morning," she said.

I took a sip of coffee. I felt a flicker of satisfaction, but it was distant. Like hearing about a stranger's misfortune.

"And Serena?" I asked.

"Gone," Elizabeth said, her tone clipped. "She left him three months ago. Apparently, 'for richer or poorer' didn't apply when the credit cards started getting declined. She gave an interview to a tabloid yesterday. Admitted she lied about the baby being his."

The mug paused halfway to my mouth. "What?"

"The baby she was carrying," Elizabeth explained, bouncing Finn gently. "It wasn't Michael's. It belonged to her personal trainer. She admitted it just to sell the story."

I set my mug down slowly. I started to laugh. It was a dry, humorless sound that scraped against my throat.

"So he lost everything for a lie," I said.

"He deserves it," Elizabeth said, smoothing Finn's hair.

*

Five hundred miles south, in a dingy apartment in New York City, Michael Hayes was staring at a cracked plaster wall.

The apartment was suffocatingly small. It smelled of stale beer and old regret. He held a crumpled magazine in his hand. Serena's face was on the cover, smiling under the headline: *"My Affair with the Bankrupt CEO."*

He had given up everything for her. He had destroyed his marriage. He had killed his son.

Or so he thought.

He looked at the other paper on the table. The divorce decree. It was signed. It was over.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the grimy sofa. The image of Olivia haunted him. Her smile. The way she used to look at him with total adoration.

He had thrown away a diamond to pick up a piece of broken glass.

He stood up and walked to the window. It was raining, the city gray and weeping.

He thought about the day he received the news that the baby died. The pain in his chest was constant now. A dull, throbbing ache that never went away.

"If I could just see her," he whispered to the empty room. "If I could just tell her I'm sorry."

But he knew it was too late. He was a pariah. He was broke. He was utterly alone.

*

Back on the island, I walked out onto the porch. The sun was setting, painting the sky in bruised shades of purple and gold.

I held Finn close, shielding him from the coastal wind.

"We're safe, Finn," I whispered into his soft curls. "We're free."

I didn't need Michael. I didn't need his money or his fake love.

I had rebuilt my life from the ashes he left behind. And it was beautiful.