Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Chapter 238: Deserve To Know.

Olivia’s POV

The moment Lennox took the handkerchief from me, I spun around and walked away before I did something reckless. Luckily, he didn’t call me back. I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done if he had.

I returned to my room, closed the door behind me, and let out a long, shaky breath. Dropping onto the bed, I pressed my palms to my face.

How much longer can I keep this up?

How much longer can I pretend to be someone else—someone I’m not?

Before I could gather my thoughts, the door creaked open. Damien stepped inside with a familiar scowl on his face.

"What you did at the table," he said sternly, "should never happen again."

I didn’t respond. I wasn’t in the mood to argue with him. I just stared past him at the wall.

He stood silently for a moment, then added, "You should get ready. We’re attending the first funeral ritual."

My head snapped toward him. "Hell no," I snapped, my voice sharp. "You expect me to stand there and watch while they perform a funeral service for me when I’m still alive?"

Damien’s eyes darkened with frustration. He stepped closer, towering over me. "You don’t have a choice," he said coldly. "You’re no longer Olivia. You’re Rebecca. And you’re my wife now. So act like one. You have ten minutes. Be downstairs."

He left before I could say another word.

Shaking, I forced myself up and went to the wardrobe. My fingers trembled as I pulled out a white gown.

I dressed quickly and made my way downstairs, my heart thudding in my chest. Damien was already waiting by the entrance. He didn’t speak, just gestured for me to follow him.

We walked through the corridor in silence, and then stepped out into the garden where the ceremony was being held.

stopped in me

My photos—everywhere.

the trees, candles flickering in soft circles. A large framed photo of me stood at the center of the altar,

bowed, lips trembling. Some were crying. Real, heavy

just a few

The triplets.

ceremonial white. All

face was blank, but his eyes told a

tightly, jaw clenched like he was

like if he opened

I stood there frozen.

they ever love me like

did it take losing me for

began to chant, starting the first funeral ritual. Everyone

couldn’t join

it was going cold. The weight of it all, watching people mourn me while I stood among them—was

swayed slightly on

Then everything spun.

last thing I saw was Lennox’s face turning toward

And then darkness.

cold feel of stone beneath my palms. My lashes fluttered as I tried to move, only to realize I was lying

stopped. Murmurs filled the air. Somewhere in the

muttered, his voice low but sharp enough to sting. "But you insisted,

was dry, my tongue stuck

He looked over his shoulder at someone I couldn’t see. "She’ll

none of this was me—but my lips wouldn’t move. I could feel eyes on

at whoever was behind him. "Go back to the ritual.

an arm under my knees and the other behind my back. His grip was strong, almost gentle, but there was no warmth