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.

me carefully, the tension in his jaw tightening. "Was he buried?"

shook my head slowly. "No... I know nothing." My voice cracked. "We weren’t allowed to see

the corners

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

need to find out where he was buried—or if he was ever buried at

and before I could

he’s

second I saw that photo, it was the first

He didn’t

as if

into it," he said. "I swear

he come back to

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

I hated crying.

still naked,

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

a whisper—but

up at him through blurred vision, and he

his

held me.

moment, I didn’t feel

His hand lifted to cup my cheek, brushing away

dropped to my

And then—he kissed me.

skipped a

didn’t

froze. My mind went blank, my body stiffening as

wasn’t like

rushed. It wasn’t

soft. Careful. Like he was giving

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

processed what was happening, every ounce of logic

who wasn’t one

it felt so

felt

lips moved hesitantly against his,

deepened, and I let

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

scent, his breath, the gentle pressure of his lips—it was all too much

a thought slipped into my mind like

The triplets.

They would feel this.

the racing of my

second, I hesitated. I should’ve pulled

But I didn’t.

when they fucked Anita

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