Chapter 58: The Only One She Trusts

Chapter 58: The Only One She Trusts –Livana– I don’t trust anyone. And I trust my sister only slightly more than most. But at the very least—she’s honest with me. Sophia? She’s reliable. Unshakably so. Betrayal isn’t an option for her. Not now. "Call me, okay?" Laura’s voice carried that soft, worried lilt. "It’s a business trip, Laura," I reminded her, calmly. "Hmm..." I could almost see her pout. She was anxious. Understandably so. But I wouldn’t spend my energy worrying about her. Damien was with her. "Damien," I said firmly, issuing a command disguised as a request. "Make sure she doesn’t go out alone. Stay close." "Wow," he muttered with a sigh. "You can count on me. She won’t be leaving the room." "I didn’t say that." I smirked as Sophia helped me into the car. The door slid shut behind me—and with it, my smile faded. "Sparrow," I called out. "Yes, My Queen?" she answered without missing a beat. "This business trip," I began, my tone low and precise. "Set the coordinates to Greenland. Bring Dr. Andersson to me." "Certainly." As the car began its glide toward the airport, I pulled out a burner phone and dialed a private number—one that never went unanswered. He picked up on the first ring. "Hello?" "Dr. Andersson," I murmured. "It’s Livana." "Mrs. Blackwell," he replied, caught off guard. The surprise in his tone amused me. "It sounds like you were expecting someone else’s call from an unknown number." "Well... I am on call," he offered, his voice cautious. I smirked, unseen. "Someone will pick you up from your office. I think it’s time you took a month-long vacation. How does that sound?" He hesitated. "I don’t think I can manage a full month away, Mrs. Blackwell." "A white Hummer will collect you tomorrow. Six PM. Don’t be late." "Mrs. Blackwell, I really think it’s best if you come to my office—" "I can’t, unfortunately," I interrupted, calmly. "Six PM. White Hummer." I ended the call without waiting for a reply and exhaled slowly. "Is the jet ready?" I asked. "On standby," Sophia replied. "The villa is prepared as well, with everything you requested—equipment and stock." "Good. Thank you." I slipped on my sunglasses and leaned my head back to rest. Just for a moment. Last night? My husband had somehow decided it was a good idea to make love to me three times. In a single night. He didn’t even sleep. And now? I was sore. A month—or perhaps more—away from him would be... ideal. I left behind every trace he gave me. Even my phone. If I wanted to keep my location secret, this was the only way. –Damon– I frowned the moment I read her message. She won’t be able to call me for more than three days. Three days. No voice. No update. No trace. I only saw her message after my plane landed in Italy, and it dragged my mood straight into the ground. I immediately called Jane. Her report didn’t help. She said Livana left that same afternoon with Sophia and Logan. That only deepened the crease on my forehead. Where the hell is she going? I tried everything to track her. Nothing. No phone. No signal. No location pings. Not even her jet. She didn’t want to be found. My chest tightened. The thought that she left—just left—without me, without telling me anything, started to eat me alive from the inside out. I called Laura next. Calm as ever, she explained that sometimes Livana leaves without warning. Said it depends on circumstances. That explanation? It nearly made me lose it. I went straight to my villa in Italy, took a long, hot bath, and made sure my phone was fully charged—just in case. The silence was unbearable. It clawed at my mind. When I stepped out of the bathroom, still in my robe, dinner was already served. I sat on the chair by the balcony, scrolling through my phone, hoping for something—anything—when suddenly, an unknown number flashed on my screen. Afghanistan? I paused, heart lurching, before I answered. I pressed the phone to my ear and waited three long seconds. "...Hello?" "Hello, husband." I froze. Her voice. Smooth. Confident. Calm as ever. I glanced at the ornate wall clock. Nine PM. "Livana?" "Don’t you recognize my voice, darling?" she purred. God. That voice. I let out a grin. "You sound... really, really sexy. I want to see you" "Mm. No video call," she said firmly. "Why not?" "I’m busy." "Are you... in Afghanistan?" "Hmm... maybe." I let out a deep sigh. "My love... my love," I murmured, hand rising to my temple. "You’re giving me a fucking headache. Where the hell are you?" "I don’t nag when you’re gone. I expect the same courtesy." I scoffed, disbelief and awe mixing in my chest. Damn her. My wife really is something. "Oh, baby... I’m your husband. I love you. Truly. But don’t tell me not to care. You’re driving me insane, Livana. Just tell me where—" "If you ask again, I’ll hang up." "No!" I snapped, then clicked my tongue, jaw clenching. "Shit..." "We only have an hour," she reminded me, cool and elegant. "To talk about nothing and everything. But I won’t hesitate to hang up if you push." I closed my eyes and exhaled sharply. "Fine. It’s better than silence." "Good." Her voice warmed. "That’s my good husband. Now... How are you? How was the flight?" She’s good. She’s perfect. She knows how to tame the monster in me with a single breath. But even as I listened, even as I hung onto every word she said, my thoughts ran elsewhere. Darker. Deeper. Because no matter what she said—no matter what she tried to hide—I will find her. Even if I have to dig through the ends of the fucking earth. –Livana– It was almost like kidnapping. Dr. Andersson didn’t seem pleased with the arrangement. I could tell. His tension was apparent, even with the limited vision I had. I smiled regardless, observing just a faint trace of his features. "Dr. Andersson, welcome to my villa," I greeted smoothly. "It’s... near home," he mumbled under his breath. "It is near your home," I echoed, tilting my head thoughtfully. "Only a two-day flight, wasn’t it?" I gestured vaguely. "Anyway, I’ve already prepared a room for you." "Mrs. Blackwell—" "Livana," I cut him off gently, but with finality. "Call me Livana." His eyes flicked toward the armed men stationed outside the hallway. "You have armed men." "Hmm," I hummed, amused, tapping my walking stick lightly as I led him toward the living room. "You’re aware of my husband, aren’t you?" "Yes... he’s been very, very helpful." I turned slightly. "And do you know what I’m capable of?" "Are you threatening me?" he asked cautiously. I giggled—not out of amusement, but strategy. "No. I’m simply informing you," I said as I lowered myself onto the sofa. "Please, have a seat." My tone was casual, pleasant. "Snacks?" "Thank you," he muttered, reaching for the coffee set laid out on the table. "So," he said, cautiously sipping, "what is this about, that you had to kidnap me?" I laughed, soft and sharp. "You’re funny, Adrian." "—Sophia," I called calmly. I heard the soft click of the door, then the sure, precise sound of Sophia’s heels approaching. I turned slightly toward the sound, my limited vision picking up a faint silhouette as she placed a box in front of him. "Please," I gestured delicately. Adrian leaned forward, inspecting the box, hesitating. "I can’t accept this," he said firmly. "It’s not a gift. It’s payment." I smiled. "I’m paying for your silence. There’s another for your secretary, too—diamonds. I assume she’ll prefer those." "Mrs. Blackwell—" "I can see a little, Dr. Andersson," I interrupted quietly. That silenced him. "Your eye drops help. The last dosage increased my perception. But I need you to keep this condition between us. My husband must never know. Nor anyone else." My voice remained calm, but unmistakably clear. "I’m buying your silence." "This is... already confidential," he muttered. "I’ll check your condition properly. Assess everything myself." "Surgery. Is it possible now?" I asked, not missing a beat. "I can already see a little." "We’ll need further testing. But yes... it may be possible." "Hmm," I nodded slowly. "I’ll have meals prepared in your room. Anything you need. I can even order a masseuse for you." "Wow—hold up." Adrian blinked. "Livana—" "I’m generous, Adrian. Hospitable. It’s part of our Philippine culture," I said sweetly, rising to my feet with the aid of my cane. "Enjoy your stay. Sophia will also show you the operating room... and all the state-of-the-art equipment you requested." "I’ll check on you later. Let me take a bath first." "No rush," I replied with a small smile, and turned. I walked away slowly, sticking guiding me through the familiar path toward my bedroom. Once inside, I made my way to the walk-in closet, trailing my fingers along dresses I hadn’t worn in what felt like ages. Months? Perhaps more than a year. It had been a long time since I returned to this place. I bought this villa five years ago. A secret sanctuary. No one knows of it but Sophia and my most loyal henchman. I had plans. Still do. I need to gather proof. Hard proof. I need to know if it was my bastard aunt who orchestrated my mother’s death. Someday, I will disappear from this world. Quietly. Entirely. And when that day comes, I’ll be ready. But before then, I must secure one thing. An heir. I don’t know if I’ll ever conceive. I’m not even sure I want to. But my sister and Damien? They are perfect for each other. I would give them everything—gladly—before I vanish.