Chapter 107

Angela POV

"How did you know where his wallet was?" Olivia asked, her eyes wide with suspicion.

I swallowed hard, willing my racing heart to slow. I was surprised at myself-after five years apart, I still remembered all of Sean's little habits, down to exactly where he kept his wallet and cards.

"I guessed," I replied, forcing a casual shrug. "Lucky guess."

"That was some guess," Olivia remarked with a playful smile. "If you hadn't spent the last five years in Italy, I'd suspect you two had dated before."

My heart skipped a beat at how close she'd inadvertently come to the truth.

After getting Sean's room key, we had hotel staff help us transport his unconscious form to his room. Once the bellman had departed, Sean sprawled across the king-sized bed, his breathing heavy but steady.

To my horror, Olivia climbed onto the edge of the bed and began working at the buttons of Sean's shirt.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, more sharply than I intended.

Olivia looked up, surprised by my tone. "I'm just helping him out of this shirt. It's wet and covered in whiskey stains. He'll be more comfortable without it."

"Let's have the male hotel staff help him with that," I insisted, pulling her gently but firmly away from the bed. "It's getting late, and my children are waiting at home. We should go."

Olivia cast one last lingering glance at Sean, clearly reluctant to leave. Before turning away, she quickly slipped something into the pocket of his pants.

Just as we were about to exit, Sean stirred slightly, mumbling incoherently. His voice, though slurred, sounded like he was saying my name.

"What's he saying?" Olivia asked, pausing at the doorway.

"I don't know," I replied quickly, my heart racing. "Come on, we need to leave now."

After getting Sean settled and leaving the hotel, our taxi weaved through Manhattan's late-night traffic toward Olivia's brownstone.

My phone buzzed with a text from David: Ms. Wilson, when can we expect you back?

I quickly typed a response: On our way now.

"By the way," I asked Olivia, "what did you slip into his pocket before we left?"

Olivia's eyes widened briefly before she grinned. "Okay, I confess. I left my contact information in his pocket. His phone was locked so I couldn't add my number, but I figured I should leave my details. After all, I did him a huge favor tonight-when he wakes up tomorrow, maybe he'll see me as his savior."

I turned away at the word "savior," a bitter taste filling my mouth.

Through the window's reflection, I watched my own expression go blank, memories of Christina using that exact claim over Sean flooding back.

"Angela? Did I say something wrong?" Olivia's voice held genuine concern.

I forced a smile. "No, just thinking about some old memories."

"Angela, there's someone waiting at the door," Olivia said as our taxi pulled up to her brownstone.

I peered through the darkness to see a tall figure standing near the entrance, his posture unmistakable even in the dim light.

"Oh my God, it's Christopher Blake!" Olivia whispered excitedly. "He's here for you!"

Christopher spotted us and walked forward with purposeful strides. As he approached, he removed his cashmere coat in one fluid motion, draping it gently around my shoulders when he reached me.

"The February nights in New York are freezing," he said, his voice carrying a hint of gentle reproach. "How could you go out dressed so lightly? Have you forgotten your pneumonia in Italy?"

The coat enveloped me in sudden warmth, carrying his familiar scent of forest cologne.

"Oh Christopher," Olivia interjected with a playful tone, "don't scold her. If she'd dressed more warmly, would you have had the chance to show off your gentlemanly gestures?"

Christopher's amber eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, but his attention remained fixed on me.

"Let's get inside," he said, nodding politely to Olivia. "It's too cold to stand out here."

Once inside, I excused myself first. "Give me a moment, I want to check on the children."

I quietly made my way to the guest bedroom where the twins were staying. Opening the door gently, I found them both sleeping peacefully, their small chests rising and falling in perfect rhythm. Aria had kicked off her blanket as usual, while Ethan remained neatly tucked in.

I carefully pulled the covers back over my daughter and stood watching them for a moment, grateful for David's care while we were out. He had always been wonderful with the children.

When I returned to the living room, Christopher was waiting patiently. In Olivia's spacious living room, I busied myself pouring water for Christopher while Olivia conveniently excused herself,claiming she was feeling a bit hungry and needed to make something to eat in the kitchen.

I felt Christopher's gaze following me as I moved, his eyes never leaving me even as I handed him the glass.

"What is it?" I asked, settling into the armchair across from him. "Is there something on my face? Why do you keep staring at me?"

A small smile played at his lips. "You smell strongly of alcohol tonight-whiskey, isn't it? Have you been drinking? I remember you haven't had a drink in a long time."

I thought of Sean immediately. It was Sean's scent lingering on me. Could Christopher have discovered this? Impossible-he had just returned.

"I just had a few drinks with Olivia," I said casually. Then, deliberately changing the subject, "How's the New York office expansion going?"

His eyes met mine with quiet intensity. "Angela, do you really think that's why I'm here?"

I looked away, unwilling to engage with the unspoken question hanging between us. "Have you booked a hotel yet?"

He considered for a moment before answering. "No."

"No?" I echoed in surprise.

"I'm thinking of renting an apartment in this neighborhood," he said, his eyes never leaving my face. "The environment suits me."

"I see," I nodded. "Do you have a real estate agent's contact?"

"As it happens," Christopher said, leaning forward slightly, "I was wondering if Ms. Wilson might have time tomorrow to accompany me to Bloomingdale's to select some essentials?"

I couldn't help but smile at his formal phrasing. "I suppose I could manage that."

As Christopher prepared to leave, he paused. "I should say goodnight to Olivia as well. I appreciate her hospitality."

"I'll get her," I offered, making my way to her room.

I knocked gently on Olivia's door, but received no answer.

"Olivia?" I called, pushing the door open slightly. The room was empty.

"Olivia?" I called again, stepping into the vacant bedroom. "Are you here?"

I pushed the door wider, finding the room completely empty. Christopher appeared behind me, concern evident in his expression.

"Her high heels are gone, and so is the coat that was on the sofa," I said, a frown creasing my forehead.

I immediately pulled out my phone and dialed Olivia's number.

No answer. I tried again. Still nothing.