From Mob Princess to Mugshot Photographer novel Chapter 38

**Chapter 2**

Alexander walked out, and the door clicked shut behind him, leaving an echo of finality in the air. He didn’t look back.

Olivia felt a strange sense of relief wash over her. For the next two days, she immersed herself in the task of packing, each item she folded a small act of liberation.

As she rummaged through the gifts Alexander had bestowed upon her—each trinket a token of affection that now felt tainted—she made the decision to donate them all. It was a small gesture, but one that symbolized her desire to reclaim her life. Just as she was lost in thought, her door swung open unexpectedly.

Chloe leaned casually against the doorframe, her presence filling the room with an air of mockery. Her eyes darted over the scattered jewelry on the floor, and a smirk danced on her lips. “What are you doing?” she asked, her tone dripping with condescension.

Olivia chose silence, her focus unwavering as she continued to sift through the items in the drawer, each piece a reminder of a love that had never truly belonged to her.

Chloe stepped further into the room, her fingers delicately tracing a diamond necklace. “These jewels… all my favorite brands,” she declared, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. “I had this exact style for my eighteenth birthday.”

With a dismissive kick, she nudged a stuffed animal that lay forgotten in the corner. “And these too. I adored them.”

Her gaze fell upon the lilies perched on the windowsill, and a soft laugh escaped her lips. “Even the flowers… they had to be my favorite. Alexander sure is sentimental.”

At that moment, Olivia’s fingers froze mid-motion.

She scanned the room, her heart sinking as the realization struck her like a blow. Everything surrounding her was imbued with the essence of another woman.

The gifts she had once cherished, the surprises she had believed were thoughtfully chosen for her—they were mere remnants of a past where she was simply a placeholder.

An invisible fist tightened around her heart, and a bitter ache threatened to suffocate her.

Olivia knew Chloe’s taunts were intentional. She fought to suppress the rising tide of emotion, her voice steady as she replied, “I know he really loves you. Don’t worry, I’ll be gone soon.”

“Gone?” Chloe raised an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “Where could you possibly go? Someone who doesn’t even know who she—”

“What’s going on in here?”

The authoritative tone of Alexander sliced through the tension like a knife.

Chloe’s demeanor shifted in an instant, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Alexander, Olivia suddenly started packing, saying she’s leaving… Is she still angry with me? I wanted to apologize…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Alexander replied, his brow furrowed as he stepped protectively in front of Chloe. His gaze turned icy as it landed on Olivia. “You’re not the one who should be apologizing.”

Olivia inhaled deeply, preparing to defend herself, but Alexander cut her off. “Olivia. How much longer are you going to keep this up?”

“I’m not ‘keeping up’ anything,” she shot back, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

“You’re just playing hard to get,” Alexander’s voice darkened, his frustration palpable. “You don’t remember anything. Where would you even go? Quit the games. I don’t have time for your little tantrums.”

Olivia’s heart raced; she wanted to tell him that her memory had returned, that she was ready to reclaim her old life.

But before she could articulate her thoughts, Alexander continued, “I’m taking Chloe to a gallery opening later. You’re on security detail.”

The words lodged in her throat, choking off her protest.

Resigned, Olivia closed the suitcase with a heavy heart and turned to change her clothes, the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

As they made their way to the gallery, Olivia trailed silently behind Alexander and Chloe, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

The soft glow of the gallery lights cast a warm ambiance over the space. Chloe pointed animatedly at an abstract painting, her laughter ringing out as she engaged Alexander in conversation.

He leaned in slightly, his profile sharply defined under the lights, a subtle smile gracing his lips as he responded to her excitement.

Olivia felt like a ghost, hovering in the background, unable to engage.

Suddenly, memories flooded back—moments long forgotten when she used to share her discoveries with Alexander, like the opening of a new bakery or the stray cat that always found its way to her. He had listened with that same smile but rarely offered much in return.

In those moments, she had believed he was simply reserved, a good listener.

Now, the truth struck her like a cold wave: he had never been truly interested.

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