Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Chapter 171

Chapter 171: The Photo

Olivia’s POV

"What’s in here?" I asked curiously, breaking the seal on the envelope.

Gabriel gave a small nod. "See for yourself."

His face remained unreadable, completely blank—giving nothing away.

I furrowed my brows and slowly pulled out the contents. It was a photo.

One glance, and I froze.

It was a picture of my father... with Sir Damon.

They were standing close, heads slightly bowed in conversation. It looked like the photo had been taken without their knowledge.

My heart raced.

This couldn’t be right.

"When... when was this taken?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Was it before my father was arrested? That was four years ago, but..."

My voice faded as I stared at the photo, my heart racing.

My father looked older in this photo. He had a well-groomed, full beard. His black hair was longer now, and there were a few grey strands that hadn’t been there before.

And Sir Damon—he looked exactly as he did now. Not four years younger.

"This... this doesn’t make sense," I whispered.

My hands shook as I looked up at Gabriel. "What is this? Where did it come from?"

Gabriel stepped closer, his confusion mirroring mine. "I had my spies search Anita’s father’s room. They found it hidden in one of his drawers."

My mouth opened, but no words came out at first.

This photo—it felt recent. Too recent.

But it couldn’t be.

My father was dead. Buried. Gone.

And yet, in this picture... he looked alive. Dressed neatly in a dark coat, posture strong, eyes alert. Not like someone who had been rotting in a grave.

My heart pounded against my ribs.

"What am I seeing?" I whispered, more to myself than to him.

Gabriel stepped closer, sharing my confusion. "I was also confused when I saw this photo."

I blinked slowly, trying to piece it all together. My throat tightened.

"But my father is dead," I said again, more firmly this time, as if saying it with enough certainty would make everything make sense.

his jaw tightening. "Was he buried?" he asked gently. "Do you

"We weren’t allowed to

stung the corners of my

since I last saw him. And now—this. This photo that didn’t

find

I could stop myself, the question spilled

if he’s

it was the first thing I felt.

didn’t laugh. He didn’t even

he stared at me as if trying to feel what

look deeper into it," he said. "I swear

"But if he’s alive... why wouldn’t he come back to

like it could hold me together, but I was already falling apart. The tears came harder now, and I turned my

I hated crying.

again. We were still naked, our skin kissed by the fading sunlight

you cry," he said gently. "You don’t deserve this kind

was low, almost a whisper—but it reached deep

he was just there,

was doing, I moved into him—my arms wrapping around his waist. I buried my face into

me. Carefully.

moment, I didn’t feel so

just enough to look into my eyes. His hand lifted to cup my cheek, brushing

dropped to my

And then—he kissed me.

skipped

didn’t

my body stiffening

wasn’t like I

wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t

was soft. Careful. Like he was

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

the moment I processed what was

me—a man who wasn’t one

felt

it felt so

moved hesitantly against his, my hands

deepened, and

against mine, his hands firm on my waist, and the world melted away in

gentle pressure of his lips—it was all too

thought slipped into my mind like

The triplets.

They would feel this.

carry it straight to them—my breathlessness, the racing of my heart, the electric heat spreading through

I should’ve

But I didn’t.

what I felt when they fucked Anita on our wedding night—lit something wild inside

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