[Reid Mansion — Olivia's Suite]
The door slammed shut behind her.
The sound echoed through the room, sharp and final—and something in Olivia snapped with it.
She stood still for a second, chest heaving, listening to her own breath like it didn't belong to her.
Then she turned and swept her arm across the vanity.
Glass shattered.
A crystal photo frame hit the wall and cracked down the middle, Benjamin's face splitting cleanly in two.
"How dare she," Olivia hissed. "How dare she?"
Her hands trembled as she grabbed the edge of the dressing table, her nails digging into polished wood. Rage burned hot and humiliating in her throat—not loud, not dramatic, but choking.
Twenty years.
Twenty years of careful steps, soft smiles, quiet patience, knowing when to speak and when to stay silent, knowing how to keep Benjamin close without ever asking for more than he was willing to give.
She had survived here.
