Twenty-Seven Days of Deceit

e. The air was thick with a tension I could feel on my skin

tting in my ch

scrolling through his phone. My design tools were pushed to one side, and a fr

ed, a slow, arrogant smile

to move his feet. "Here to pack up your little trink

ere watching, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and contempt. They believed Olivia

d. "I' ll be out of

few books, a coffee mug, the small, worn photo of my mother. Each it

ers start

not even figh

ows he was in

off. Brandon is f

had no way to explain the truth without it sounding like a desperate,

, self-inflicted humiliation. My dignity was all I had le

the box shut, Olivia

ered. She grabbed my arm, her grip surprising

at Brandon, who was watchin

ven. I gestured towards the desk. "He can have it. The

n any angry outburst would have. But her anger wasn't

she seethed. "I told you t

k. "Sweetheart, this is my office now. Your father and I had a litt

ed. It was clear t

ind my back?"

days," he shot back, his voice drippi

In that moment, Olivia looked at him with pure loathing.

ked through th

to the side, a red mark blooming on his

ad done it to defend me, or at least, to defend the territory I rep

y box and tur

ried, her voice

office, past the shocked faces of m

re closing, my phone buz

ire him. I' ll fix it. P

. It was almost funny. She thought the job, the desk, wa

ed out into the bright, indifferent sunshine, leavin