Chapter 4 Veil of Revenge

**Chapter 4 — Veil of Revenge**

I didn't take Henry's outstretched hand. Instead, I stepped backward, closer to Nathaniel, feeling his presence solid and warm behind me.

"I think I deserve to know the truth first," I said, surprised by the steadiness in my voice.

Henry's expression hardened. "The truth? Which version would you prefer, Olivia? The one where my son seduced my wife? Or the one where my wife has been lying about her past since the day we met?"

"How about the one where you manipulated both of us?" Nathaniel countered, his hand coming to rest protectively at the small of my back.

The gesture wasn't lost on Henry. His eyes narrowed, tracking the movement. "Always so dramatic, Nathaniel. A trait you inherited from your mother, not from me."

"Stop deflecting," I said. "These documents—explain them."

Henry sighed, suddenly looking every one of his fifty-two years. "Very well. Yes, I knew who you were before we met. I make it a point to know everything about anyone who comes into my life."

"That's not an explanation, that's an admission," Nathaniel said.

"I had you investigated when Nathaniel became... infatuated with you in college," Henry continued, ignoring his son. "A practical measure. I do the same with all his serious relationships."

My stomach turned. "You had me watched? For six years?"

"Not continuously." Henry's tone was matter-of-fact, as if discussing a business strategy. "Only when Nathaniel began talking about marriage. You were unsuitable—ambitious but from humble beginnings, family with financial troubles, no connections to speak of. I simply... redirected his path."

"By sending me to London and making it impossible for me to contact her," Nathaniel's voice vibrated with anger. "By letting me believe she'd moved on without a second thought."

Henry's mouth curved in a cold smile. "And yet here you both are, proving I was right about your character all along."

The cruelty of it stole my breath. Six years of pain, a child that never was, dreams shattered—all because this man had decided I wasn't good enough for his son.

"When did you decide to marry me?" I asked, dreading the answer. "Was that part of your plan too?"

"That was... an unexpected development." Something flickered in Henry's eyes. "We met by chance at that gala. I recognized you immediately, of course. You'd grown into your beauty."

"But it wasn't chance, was it?" Nathaniel moved to the table, picking up one of the documents. "This email shows you specifically requested Olivia's company to plan the event. You orchestrated the whole thing."

Henry's expression didn't change, but a muscle in his jaw twitched. "I was curious. I wanted to see what had become of the girl my son couldn't forget."

"And then what?" I pressed, anger replacing my fear. "You thought you'd marry me to hurt him? To prove your power?"

"I married you because I wanted you," Henry said simply. "Your connection to Nathaniel was... incidental."

"Bullshit," Nathaniel spat. "Nothing you do is incidental. Every move is calculated."

Henry's calm façade cracked slightly. "Watch your tone. You're still in my house, spending my money, working for my company."

"Not anymore." Nathaniel placed the papers back in the folder and handed it to me. "I'm done being your puppet. And Olivia deserves to know exactly who she married."

Henry's laugh was sharp and brittle. "And I suppose you're the one to tell her? The man who came back not for honesty but for revenge?"

The word hung in the air between us. I turned to look at Nathaniel, searching his face. "Revenge?"

Something shifted in his expression—a flicker of guilt quickly masked. "Don't listen to him. He's trying to turn us against each other."

"Am I?" Henry moved closer, his voice softening dangerously. "Tell her, Nathaniel. Tell your precious Olivia why you really came back when you heard about our engagement."

The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken truths. Nathaniel's jaw clenched, his eyes never leaving his father's face.

"Nathaniel?" My voice sounded small even to my own ears.

When he finally looked at me, the raw emotion in his eyes made me step back. "I came back to save you from him," he said quietly. "But yes, at first... at first I wanted you to feel what I felt. The betrayal. The loss."

My chest constricted. "You came back to hurt me?"

"I came back because I couldn't stay away!" His voice rose, echoing in the small space. "Six years of thinking you'd thrown away our child, our future, without a second thought. Six years of hating you and loving you in equal measure. Then I see your engagement announcement and discover you're marrying the man who destroyed us."

Tears burned behind my eyes. "So all this—the whispered words, the stolen touches—was just to make me fall for you again before revealing your true intentions?"

"No." Nathaniel moved toward me, but I backed away. "It started that way, but seeing you again... Everything changed."

"How convenient," Henry interjected. "Now that you've been caught, suddenly it's true love again."

"Shut up!" Nathaniel rounded on his father. "You don't get to stand there in judgment after what you've done."

"What I've done is protect this family's interests," Henry said coldly. "Something you've never understood."

"Family?" Nathaniel laughed bitterly. "Is that what you call this twisted game you've been playing? Manipulating people's lives, their hearts?"

"Stop it, both of you." My voice cut through their argument. I clutched the folder to my chest like a shield. "I need... I need time to think."

I turned and walked out of the garden house, the night air cool against my flushed skin. Behind me, I could hear their voices rising again, father and son locked in a battle that had apparently been raging for years—with me as the unwitting prize.

Rachel was waiting in my bedroom, pacing nervously. She rushed to me as I entered, her eyes wide.

"Where have you been? I've been texting you for hours!"

I placed the folder on the bed and sank down beside it. "Did you know?" I asked, my voice hollow. "Did you know Henry had investigated me before we met?"

Rachel's expression shifted from concern to confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Henry knew who I was all along. He knew about Nathaniel and me, about the baby." I opened the folder, spreading out the damning evidence. "He's been watching me for years."

Rachel sat beside me, scanning the documents with growing horror. "This is... Liv, this is stalker behavior."

"And Nathaniel..." My voice broke. "He came back for revenge. To make me fall for him again, to punish me for marrying his father."

"Oh, Liv." Rachel wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "I warned you he was dangerous."

"They both are." I wiped away tears I hadn't realized were falling. "I'm trapped between two men who've been using me as a pawn in their twisted power struggle."

Rachel picked up one of the photos—me at twenty-two, leaving my apartment building, unaware of being watched. "You need to get out of here. Tonight. Come stay with me until we figure this out."

The bedroom door opened, and Nathaniel stood there, his face a storm of emotions. Rachel instantly moved in front of me protectively.

"Get out," she snapped. "Haven't you done enough damage?"

"I need to speak with Olivia." His eyes found mine over Rachel's shoulder. "Please."

"There's nothing to say," I replied, my voice steadier than I felt. "You've made your intentions quite clear."

"No, I haven't." He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "What my father said—it wasn't the whole truth."

"Which part?" I asked bitterly. "The part where you came back to seduce your father's wife for revenge? Or the part where you let me believe you actually cared?"

"I did come back with revenge in mind," he admitted, his voice low and urgent. "But not against you. Against him. For keeping us apart, for destroying what we had."

"And using me was just collateral damage?" I stood, anger replacing heartbreak. "Making me feel things for you again, knowing what it would do to me?"

"I never stopped loving you!" The raw pain in his voice made me flinch. "Even when I thought you'd discarded our child, our future, I couldn't stop. Do you know what that kind of love does to a person? How it twists inside you, becoming something dark and desperate?"

Rachel moved between us again. "That's not love, Nathaniel. That's obsession."

"Stay out of this, Rachel," he warned. "You've interfered enough."

"She was protecting me," I said. "Unlike you."

Nathaniel ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "I was wrong about how I came back. About my intentions. But I wasn't wrong about him. Henry is dangerous in ways you can't imagine. He uses people, discards them when they're no longer useful."

"Like father, like son," I whispered.

The hurt that flashed across his face was almost enough to make me regret my words. Almost.

"You want to know the truth?" His voice dropped, becoming fierce and intense. "The truth is I came back to destroy what he values most. To take from him what he took from me. But then I saw you again, and I remembered everything—how it felt to hold you, to dream of our future, to love someone so completely that nothing else matters."

He moved closer, ignoring Rachel's warning glare. "I was angry and hurt and wrong. But this—what's happening between us now—isn't revenge. It's the only real thing in this house of lies."

Before I could respond, heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway. The bedroom door swung open again, revealing Henry, his composure restored but his eyes glacial.

"Quite the dramatic scene," he observed. "I'd applaud, but I find your performance lacking sincerity, son."

Nathaniel turned to face his father. "We're done here. Olivia knows the truth now."

"Does she?" Henry's gaze swept over the documents spread across the bed. "She knows fragments. Pieces. Not the whole picture."

"Then enlighten us," I challenged, tired of being talked about as if I weren't in the room.

Henry's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Gladly. But not tonight. It's late, and emotions are running high." He looked pointedly at Nathaniel. "You should leave. We can discuss your resignation from the company tomorrow."

"I'm not going anywhere," Nathaniel replied. "Not without Olivia."

The tension in the room crackled like electricity. Henry's expression darkened. "She is my wife."

"She's the woman I love," Nathaniel countered. "The woman you stole from me."

"Stop!" I moved between them, heart pounding. "I am not a possession to be fought over. I make my own decisions."

Henry's eyes met mine, calculating and cold. "And what is your decision, Olivia? To run away with my son? To throw away everything we've built based on his version of the past?"

Before I could answer, Rachel spoke up. "She's coming with me tonight. Away from both of you."

"Is that so?" Henry's tone was deceptively mild. "And where will you go? Back to your apartment that I own? Or perhaps to your gallery, also financed by my investment firm?"

Rachel paled. "You wouldn't."

"I protect what's mine," Henry replied simply. "Always."

The threat hung in the air, unmistakable. I looked from Henry to Nathaniel, seeing for the first time how similar they were beneath their differences—both accustomed to power, to getting what they wanted.

"This is my home," I said finally, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "I'm not going anywhere tonight. But I want both of you to leave my room. Now."

After a tense silence, Henry nodded. "As you wish." He turned to leave but paused at the door. "We'll continue this conversation tomorrow, when clearer heads prevail."

As he disappeared down the hallway, Nathaniel reached for my hand. "Don't trust him, Olivia. Whatever he tells you tomorrow will be calculated to keep you under his control."

I pulled away from his touch. "And I should trust you instead?"

His eyes—so like his father's in shape but warmer, more human—searched mine. "Trust your heart. It knew the truth six years ago, and it knows it now."

After they both left, Rachel helped me gather the scattered documents. "What are you going to do?" she asked quietly.

I stared at a photo of myself from years ago, walking across campus with textbooks clutched to my chest, unaware of the camera capturing my image, unaware of how my life was being manipulated from afar.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But I'm done being a pawn in their game. Whatever happens next, it will be on my terms."

As Rachel left for the guest room, promising to stay as long as I needed, I locked my bedroom door and sank onto the bed. The folder of secrets lay beside me, a Pandora's box of truths and lies that had shattered whatever illusions I still held about my marriage, about Nathaniel, about my own past.

Outside, the rain had started again, pattering against the windows like a whispered warning. In this mansion of shadows and secrets, I had never felt more alone—or more determined to find my way out of the darkness.