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.

looked at me carefully, the tension in his jaw tightening. "Was he buried?" he asked gently. "Do you know where

My voice cracked. "We weren’t allowed to see him.

the corners of my

four long years since I last saw him. And

to find out where he

and before I could stop myself, the question

he’s

sounded stupid. Ridiculous. Naive. But the second I saw that photo, it was the first thing I

didn’t laugh. He didn’t

at me as if trying to feel what I was

deeper into it," he said. "I swear

down my cheeks. "But if he’s alive... why wouldn’t he come back to me?"

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

I hated crying.

I could feel his warmth again. We were still naked, our skin kissed by the fading sunlight and the

he said gently. "You

a whisper—but it

him through blurred vision, and he was

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

me.

I didn’t feel

pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. His hand

dropped to

And then—he kissed me.

heart skipped a

I didn’t

went blank, my body

wasn’t like I

wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t

was giving

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

I processed what was happening, every ounce

kissing me—a man who wasn’t one

it felt

it felt so

my body responded. My lips moved hesitantly against his, my hands gripping his

deepened, and

against mine, his hands firm on my waist,

his lips—it was all too

a thought slipped into my mind like a

The triplets.

They would feel this.

them—my breathlessness, the racing of my heart, the electric heat spreading through

I should’ve pulled away.

But I didn’t.

felt when they fucked Anita on our

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