Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Chapter 292

Chapter 292: The Talk

Olivia’s POV

Louis poured the wine while Lennox lit the last candle on the table. As I looked around, taking it all in, my heart swelled to the point of pain.

"I don’t understand," I whispered, my eyes brimming. "How did you even pull this off?"

Levi smiled gently, his gaze never leaving me. "We did all this throughout the day."

"It’s beautiful." I whispered, my voice cracking.

Lennox leaned down, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "You deserve to feel loved, Olivia. Cherished. We wanted to remind you of what we had... and what we can still have."

Levi rested his hand over mine. "You’ve always been our everything. We just forgot how to show it."

A heavy silence fell over us... not tense but comfortable...

Until I spoke... "I missed you. All of you. So much it felt like dying."

Louis squeezed my hand. "We missed you too, little bird."

That name. That damn name.

It cracked something wide open inside me.

It was the name Lennox had given me because he always teased that I was like a bird—fluttering, always circling them. And he wasn’t wrong. Back then, I was always around them.

Tears fell, slow and silent, streaking down my cheeks. I didn’t wipe them away. I let them fall. Because for the first time in what felt like forever... I wasn’t crying alone.

Lennox reached across the table and gently caught one of the tears with his thumb, his touch featherlight. "You’re here now. That’s all that matters."

I nodded and flashed them a weak smile. "Let’s eat. The meal is getting cold."

They nodded and offered to fill my plate, and then we began eating in silence. I knew we had a lot to talk about, but we were waiting until after the meal.

They kept refilling my plate with my favorites, urging me to eat more, drink more.

By the time dessert came—chocolate mousse with strawberry hearts—I felt full in a way food couldn’t explain.

"Alright, please stop," I said with a soft chuckle, pushing the dessert slightly away. "I’m going to explode if I eat one more spoon."

They all smiled, watching me with that same soft admiration. But underneath the warmth, I could feel they were tense.

"I know you guys probably have a lot to say," I murmured, folding my hands on the table. "But let me start."

They paused, all three of them. Attentive. Silent.

"I heard what happened to Anita... and her family."

The air shifted instantly. Like the wind had changed direction.

Lennox’s jaw clenched slightly. Louis looked away. Levi’s fingers tapped against his glass.

glanced between them. "What... exactly did Anita’s

was heavy and thick. Finally, Levi spoke, his voice low and grave. "He found the letters, Olivia. The

my

There was a pause.

voice a whisper of

"Your parents forged

said softly. "When they discovered who you truly were, they wanted to

in the letters that messed us up," Levi added, looking directly at me. "Anita’s father—he got a hold

confused. "A

dark one," Lennox said, his voice hard. "It was meant to twist us. To make us hate

would’ve made us capable of...

gasped, but I wasn’t shocked. If he could set up my

table, placing his hand over mine.

voice full of guilt. "I know. We didn’t kill you physically... but we killed you

something we’ll never forgive ourselves for," Louis

see it plain as day. The regret. The guilt. The pain of their mistakes. It wrapped around them like

chest. "How long?" I asked softly. "How

exchanged glances. It was Levi

the meeting with the

"Then

slightly, "you wouldn’t have believed us,

to protest, but as I thought back to how broken and angry I’d been,

you," I whispered,

again, heavy but no longer

tell you something," I said, my voice gaining strength. "Anita... she confessed to

snapped to mine, sharp

your mother took her to a witch," I continued. "She was bathed... spiritually. To

leaned back, his brows drawing together. "No

"What?" I asked gently.

we actually touched her... it was confusing. Off. We became friends with her to hurt you, yes. But

a thought, Olivia.

it started," Lennox said, his voice tight. "That strange... pull. That desire.

wasn’t love. It

we owed her something. Because she was always...

my eyes, trying to breathe past the storm brewing

was hurt by them, by their actions, but these men were victims, too. They wouldn’t

This makes sense now...

knew—my boys—they never would have hurt

ignored me. Maybe even distanced themselves. That

have mocked me. Humiliated me. Broken me piece by piece with their actions, their hate, their cruel affection toward someone

might’ve disliked me. But

was never

barely tolerated her. I always noticed it. The obvious distance, the way they dismissed her opinions, never really talked to her when

acting obsessed with her—kissing her, claiming her—it was like watching

it didn’t make

I

It wasn’t them.

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