Chapter 2

Olivia came back into the room a few minutes later, her face flushed with a mixture of annoyance and excitement. She had managed to quiet Lucas, who was now gurgling in her arms.

"Get dressed, Liam. We're leaving in ten minutes," she commanded, not looking at me. She was already moving towards her massive walk-in closet.

I didn't move from the bed. I just watched her. "I told you, I'm not going."

She spun around, her eyes flashing. "What is wrong with you today? It's just dinner. Grandma wants to see the baby. She wants to see us. The perfect family." She said the last words with a sneer, as if the lie was my fault alone.

I just stared at her, my silence a form of resistance she had never encountered before. It unnerved her. She was used to me caving, to me apologizing for things I hadn't even done.

Just as she opened her mouth to yell, a phone started ringing again. This time, it wasn't mine. It was the landline in the master suite's sitting area, a phone almost never used. Its shrill, old-fashioned bell cut through the air.

We both froze. In my last life, I had been the one to answer that call. But I was in the living room then, having just gotten home. This time, we were both here.

Olivia, annoyed by the interruption, stalked over to the phone and snatched it up.

"Hello? The Reed residence."

I watched her face. I knew exactly what was coming. Her expression shifted from irritation to confusion, then to pale, wide-eyed horror.

"What? Who is this? This isn't funny."

A pause. Her knuckles were white on the receiver.

"You have my grandmother? You're lying!"

Her voice was rising, cracking with panic. Lucas, sensing her distress, started to cry again.

"What do you want? Money?"

She listened, her body trembling. "Five million? Are you insane? We don't have that kind of money just lying around!"

She tried to hang up, a reflexive act of denial, but I saw her hesitate. The voice on the other end must have said something to stop her. Put her grandmother on the line, probably.

"Grandma? Oh my god, Grandma, are you okay?"

Her composure shattered. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched the phone. Ethan, the cause of all this, chose that moment to walk in. He must have been waiting downstairs. He was dressed in a flashy designer suit, a stark contrast to my simple slacks and polo shirt.

"What's going on, Liv? I heard shouting."

He saw her state and immediately tried to take the phone. "Give it to me. I'll handle this."

"No!" she shrieked, pulling the phone away from him. "They have my grandmother! They want five million dollars!"

The baby was screaming now, a high-pitched, frantic wail. Ethan tried to take the child from her, to free her up to deal with the call, but she wouldn't let go. She was clinging to the baby, her shield and her excuse.

"We have to call the police!" Ethan said, his own voice tight with panic. The arrogant swagger was gone, replaced by the fear of a man whose actions had finally caught up with him.

"No! They said no police, or they'll... they'll hurt her!" Olivia sobbed.

Then, her desperate eyes landed on me. I was still sitting on the edge of the bed, a calm island in her storm of chaos. A switch flipped in her mind. The problem had a solution, and that solution was me.

"Liam," she said, her voice suddenly sharp and commanding. "It's your fault."

I almost laughed. "My fault?"

"Yes! You handle all the family finances. You're the one who is supposed to keep us safe! You have to fix this. Call your broker. Sell your stocks. Get the money!"

It was a repeat of my last life. The immediate assumption that my resources were her resources. The complete disregard for me as a person, only as a tool to solve her problems.

"No," I said simply.

Ethan and Olivia both stared at me as if I'd grown a second head.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" Ethan sputtered, stepping forward. "Her grandmother has been kidnapped!"

"I don't have that kind of money," I lied, my face a perfect mask of helpless regret. "You know Olivia's spending habits. Most of my liquid assets are gone. The rest is tied up in long-term investments. It would take days, maybe weeks, to get that much cash."

I watched the hope drain from Olivia's face, replaced by pure rage. "You're useless! Absolutely useless!"

The kidnapper on the phone, tired of waiting, must have shouted something. Olivia flinched.

"He's still on the line!" she hissed at Ethan.

The voice on the phone became audible, a gravelly, angry sound. "Are you two done? We know you have the money! We saw your boyfriend here," the voice sneered, and I knew he meant Ethan, "driving his new Ferrari. We saw the rock he put on your finger, Mrs. Reed. A million-dollar watch on his wrist. Don't tell us you're broke."

A choked sob came through the phone. It was Grandma Reed. "Olivia, please! Just give them what they want! They said... they said Ethan's spending brought this on us!"

The accusation hung in the air. Ethan paled, looking like he was going to be sick.

Olivia, trapped, looked from Ethan to me. Her mind was racing, trying to find a way out that didn't involve her lover's money or her own inheritance.

Finally, she made a decision.

"Ethan," she said, her voice low and urgent. "Call your father. Call your friends. Get the money. You have to. It's the only way."

She was sacrificing him to save herself and her grandmother. The first crack in their passionate affair was showing.

Ethan looked horrified, but he nodded, pulling out his own phone and rushing out of the room, his bravado completely gone. Olivia was left holding the crying baby, listening to the kidnapper's threats, alone.

She didn't look at me again. In her eyes, I had already failed her. And for the first time in five years, her disappointment felt like a victory.