Chapter 3 Tulips and Truth Bombs

Olivia's heels clicked against the cracked pavement of SoHo, a quiet rebellion against the chaos in her mind. Her body still moved like it belonged in a boardroom, but her heart was somewhere between exhaustion and escape.

The little bell above the flower shop door jingled as she stepped inside. The scent of lilies and eucalyptus wrapped around her like a familiar hug.

"Hold up-if it isn't the queen of corporate soul-crushing herself," Lily called from behind a jungle of peonies. "Did they finally give you a lunch break, or did you escape through the air vents?"

Olivia smiled-genuinely, for the first time that day. "Neither. I'm technically still working."

Lily popped out with garden shears in one hand and a stem in her teeth. "So this is a rogue mission?"

"It's a survival mission," Olivia said, dropping her bag on the front counter. "I needed air. And you."

Lily looked at her best friend the way only best friends can-like she saw straight through the sleek ponytail and tailored coat.

"Talk to me. You've got that haunted look in your eye again. Like your boss just promoted you to Head of Personal Misery."

Olivia let out a soft laugh, but it didn't reach her eyes. "He doesn't even know he's the villain."

Lily narrowed her gaze. "Clinton Reign doesn't know a lot of things. Like how to smile without looking like he's planning world domination."

"I'm serious, Lily," Olivia said, sinking onto the stool behind the counter. "I think I'm at my limit."

Lily didn't interrupt. She walked over, placed a mug of peppermint tea in front of her, and leaned on the counter with ink-smudged hands.

"I had a dream last night," Olivia said quietly, wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic. "I was sketching. I was designing again. And I woke up with tears on my face."

Lily's voice dropped. "Liv..."

"It was so vivid. I could feel the fabric under my fingers. The thrill of it. And then I opened my eyes and remembered I'm supposed to care about quarterly earnings."

Silence stretched between them like fabric pulled too tight.

"I buried that dream, Lil. Deep. For Layla. For Ethan. For stability. And I don't regret it. But-" her voice cracked, "-I think it's killing me slowly."

Lily reached across the counter and took her hand. "Then maybe it's time to dig it back up."

"I can't just quit. I owe them everything."

"No," Lily said firmly. "You owe them your best. And your best self isn't drowning in spreadsheets and cold stares from your ice-king boss."

Olivia looked away, blinking fast. "He offered me a raise last week. A bigger office."

Lily scoffed. "Classic move. Distract you with gold when you're starving for meaning."

They sat in silence again, broken only by the soft hum of the cooler and the city beyond.

Lily broke it with a smile. "I know you, Olivia. You're going to blow the fashion world sideways one day. But first-you need to believe you still can."

Olivia gave her a look that was part gratitude, part ache.

"Also," Lily added, "if you need me to run over Clinton Reign with a flower delivery van, say the word."

Olivia laughed then. It felt like exhaling something heavy.

"I love you," she said.

Lily winked. "Of course you do. I'm irresistible."

-

By the time Olivia stepped back into the towering shadow of Reign Capital, the buzz of Lily's flower shop felt like a distant echo. The warmth of petals and possibility clung to her like pollen-but the moment the glass doors slid shut behind her, it was gone.

The air inside was crisp. Clinical. As if joy had been filtered out at the ventilation system.

Back at her desk, she adjusted her chair, her posture perfect, her expression composed. But the air shifted the moment he stepped out of his office.

Clinton Reign.

Sharp suit. Sharper eyes. The kind of presence that silenced a room without trying.

He didn't look at her-not right away. But she felt it: that flicker of attention, like a storm cloud deciding whether or not to rain.

"Miss Dalton," he said, voice smooth but clipped. "Your break took longer than scheduled."

She didn't flinch. "I made up the time this morning. Your flight confirmations are on your desk, and I moved the Bloomberg call to 3 PM so you'd have time to review the Q3 report."

There was a beat of silence.

His eyes finally met hers.

"I didn't authorize that change."

She met his gaze evenly. "I know. But the new projections came in late. You'll want time to digest them before that call."

Another silence. Tighter this time. And yet...

Something flickered in his expression-like surprise wrapped in a challenge.

He gave a slow nod. "Very well."

And then he walked away.

She released a breath only when she heard the office door click shut.

But inside, a shift had started. The dream she'd tried to forget was now a voice in her head. A whisper behind her every thought. And Clinton Reign-unmoving, unbending-was suddenly the wall between her and everything she'd given up.

Something had to give.

And Olivia Dalton was done being the one who always broke first.