Chapter 7 - Ghosts of the Past
The gala was proceeding smoothly. Olivia had already charmed two senior logistics executives from New York with her razor-sharp analysis of supply chain bottlenecks, proving she was far more than just a decorative date.
Jae had stepped away briefly to speak with a city alderman near the terrace doors, leaving Olivia near the champagne fountain.
“Excuse me. Is that... Olivia?”
The voice hit her like a splash of cold water.
Olivia froze, her fingers tightening around the stem of her champagne flute. She turned slowly.
Standing a few feet away, holding a half-empty glass of scotch, was Tyler Brooks. He wore an expensive, slightly ill-fitting suit, his hair slicked back with too much gel, looking every bit the smooth-talking corporate climber who thought charm could buy him out of any mistake.
Beside him stood a woman in a pale pink dress who looked at Olivia with immediate, suspicious curiosity.
“Tyler,” Olivia said flatly, her voice dropping all warmth.
“It is you!” Tyler laughed, stepping closer, looking her up and down with a mixture of shock and lingering arrogance. “Wow. Look at you. You look... incredible. I hear you finally moved out of that dump in Little Italy. Working as a hostess somewhere downtown now?”
Olivia didn't flinch. She stood taller, leveling her gaze at him with icy composure. “I’m an accountant, Tyler. Not that my career choices were ever any of your business.”
Tyler’s smile faltered slightly at her tone. “Right, right. Still got that chip on your shoulder. Look, I’m glad you’re doing well. Honestly. We should catch up sometime, maybe grab coffee—without the kid, obviously, just like old times—”
“Without the kid?”
May you like
A voice cut through the ambient ballroom music like a razor blade.
Jae Min Park had materialized behind Olivia so silently that neither Tyler nor his companion had heard him approach. Jae’s face was a mask of cold, terrifying granite. His dark eyes drilled into Tyler with a look of absolute, lethal contempt.
