Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Chapter 433: Suspicion

Olivia’s POV

"What!" I spat, my voice rising before I could stop myself. Shock coursed through me, making my chest tighten. But Frederick didn’t look at me. Not once. His piercing gaze stayed fixed on Selene as though his words were meant for her, not me.

"I’m no longer waiting, Olivia," he declared firmly, his tone harsh. "I want us married by next weekend."

It was like a punch to the gut.

I scoffed, folding my arms over my chest. "You must be joking."

But Frederick only shook his head, his jaw tight, his eyes still locked on Selene. The way he stared at her made my skin prickle, like I wasn’t even the one he was speaking to.

My frown deepened. Anger bubbled in my chest, ready to burst. I wanted to scream at him, to spit in his face and tell him this would never happen. But I forced myself to hold back, to control my emotions.

I straightened, my voice lowered, though the sharpness couldn’t be hidden. "I can’t marry you now, Lord Frederick. We don’t even know each other. We need time."

His answer came swiftly, leaving no room for argument.

"I don’t care," he snapped. His gaze finally flicked to me. "We will get to know each other in marriage."

But the more I looked at him, the more I realized... he wasn’t really saying it to me.

No. His eyes, his clenched jaw, the way his gaze slid back to Selene—it was all for her.

something to her? Of stabbing her in the chest with his

her eyes refusing to meet his. But she couldn’t hide it. The flicker of hurt that flashed

help me,

eyes for just a moment before she blinked it away. She looked like she wanted to shout, to curse, but instead, she stayed silent. Before I could move,

His hand grabbed my wrist—not hard, but strong enough to make me freeze—then he pulled me to himself, wrapping his arm around my waist. My wolf snarled at

my pulse like he wanted to remind me he was in control. "I want you as my wife. By next weekend, you

hit me harder than if he

racing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Selene. She was stiff, her face pale, her eyes wide.

a second, like he wanted her to hear every word. Like he wanted the words to

let go of

to the door.

door closed with a

The room went quiet.

frozen for a moment, still staring at the door Frederick had walked out of.

face

something you want to say to

gaze briefly, her eyes flat and guarded. "No,"

answer only fanned the fire inside me. But before speaking again, I let my senses stretch, searching the room, the walls, the hall beyond. I wanted to be sure Frederick

Good.

I don’t care if he’s fucking you, or if you’re his whore. What matters—" I leaned forward, my eyes locking on hers,

lips curled into a bitter little smile, and she let out a humorless laugh. "The plan," she repeated. Then she shook her head. "I