Chapter 2

I blinked, pulling myself back to the present. The funeral home's stale air felt thick in my lungs. I looked down at Leo, really looked at him. His soft brown hair, the small mole just above his eyebrow. He was real. He was safe. I squeezed his hand, and he looked up at me with his innocent, questioning eyes.

"It' s okay, baby," I whispered, my voice hoarse.

Jessica' s perfectly manicured hand was still on my shoulder. It felt like a spider crawling on my skin. I wanted to shrug it off, to scream at her, but I forced myself to remain still.

"I know this is hard, Liv," Jessica said, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. She was a master performer. "Mark was... complicated. He left you in a terrible position. But you can' t let his mess ruin your life and Leo' s future."

She sounded so convincing, so caring. In my past life, her words were a lifeline in a sea of despair. Now, they were just noise, the meaningless buzz of a fly I was about to swat.

"Five million dollars... it' s an astronomical sum," she continued, shaking her head sadly. "No one could expect you to pay that. The law protects you. Renouncing the inheritance is the only logical choice. You' ll be free. You and Leo can start over, unburdened."

I stared into her eyes, searching for a flicker of guilt, a crack in the facade. There was nothing. Just a polished, practiced concern. She had rehearsed this. She had done this before.

My mind was a storm of memories. The cold dread of Leo being torn from my arms. The thud of the small box on my doorstep. The sight of her smiling on television with her son, Ethan, the heir to billions.

My son was dead because of her greed. I was trafficked and lived in filth because of her betrayal.

A cold, hard resolve settled in my chest, replacing the grief and panic. This was not just about getting the money back. This was about justice. This was for Leo, the one I had lost, and for the one standing beside me now.

I would not run. I would not hide. I would face the monster she created and turn it against her.

"Thank you for your advice, Jessica," I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

She smiled, a small, relieved expression. "Of course, Liv. I' m your best friend. I' m just looking out for you."

I looked past her, toward the entrance of the funeral home. My heart wasn' t pounding with fear anymore. It was beating with a slow, deliberate purpose.

"But I' m not going to take it," I said loudly.

Jessica' s smile froze. "What? What did you say?"

I turned to the funeral director, who was hovering nearby, and spoke loud enough for everyone in the quiet room to hear.

"I am Olivia Reynolds, Mark Reynolds' s wife. I will be inheriting his estate. All of it. Including the five-million-dollar debt."

A collective gasp went through the room. The few distant relatives of Mark' s who had bothered to show up stared at me as if I had lost my mind. The funeral director looked stunned.

Jessica' s face went pale. "Olivia, are you crazy? What are you talking about?"

She grabbed my arm, her grip suddenly tight, her painted nails digging into my skin. "Don' t be a fool! You' re sentencing yourself and Leo to a life of misery!"

Before I could answer, the doors to the funeral home burst open.

A large, burly man with a shaved head and a cheap suit swaggered in, flanked by two equally intimidating goons. His eyes scanned the room and landed on me. He had a cruel smile that didn't reach his cold, dead eyes.

It was him. The man they called "The Shark." The man who had taken my son.

He grinned, showing a row of yellowed teeth.

"Olivia Reynolds?" he boomed, his voice echoing in the solemn space. "I hear you' ve come into some money. Well, a debt, anyway. We' re here to collect."

Jessica' s face was a mixture of shock and something else... a flicker of panicked recognition. Her plan was already starting to go off the rails.

Perfect.