Filed to story: Watch Me Win Alpha (Olivia & Ethan)
That expressionless tone hurt more than all her past accusations combined.
Ethan had watched her sleep, jaw clenched to stop it from trembling. He hadn’t slept. Not even for a moment. Every time he blinked, a memory surfaced. Her laughing in the rain, her brushing flour from her cheek while baking, her tugging his tie to kiss him goodbye before work.
He had memorized her expressions over the years, but tonight he couldn’t read her anymore.
He turned his gaze to her hand, resting lightly atop the blanket.
There were faint red marks near her wrist-remnants of the duct tape Chole had used. Rage welled up again, but there was no one to direct it at now. Chole was in custody, and Olivia…
Olivia had already paid too much.
His fingers twitched at his side. He wanted to hold her hand, just once. Just to feel the warmth again, just to remind himself that she was still here.
But he didn’t.
Because he knew that this time, Olivia wouldn’t hold it back.
He thought of the countless second chances she’d given him. How many times she had swallowed her pride, softened her voice, made the first move. And what had he done in return?
He hadn’t just hurt her. He’d left her defenseless.
Ethan leaned back slowly in the chair, exhausted and hollow. His eyes scanned her face one last time. She was healing. There were bruises beneath her eyes, and her lips were dry, but she looked peaceful. Too peaceful to be disturbed by his selfish need for closure.
The sun had begun to seep in through the blinds, casting soft gold across the bed sheets. Morning had come. The night was over.
Ethan stood quietly, careful not to rouse Ava, who was still curled on the couch. He adjusted Olivia’s blanket gently, fingers lingering for just a moment before pulling back.
He knew this was the last time he’d be this close.
He longed to bend down and kiss her forehead. To whisper that he was sorry. That he would carry this guilt to his grave.
But he didn’t.
He just looked at her. One last time.
And left.
The hallway outside was colder than he remembered. His footsteps echoed down the corridor, each one heavier than the last.
He kept his head down. Not because he was ashamed in front of the nurses or security. But because he couldn’t bear the thought of glancing back.
They were finished.
And that truth would haunt him more than any punishment
Chole or the world could ever deliver.
Olivia’s POV
I didn’t sleep that night.
I heard the quiet shift of fabric when Ethan stood. I felt the weight of his gaze-heavy, sorrowful-as he hovered near me, maybe wanting to speak, maybe waiting for a sign. But I gave him none. I just lay there, still as stone, staring at the ceiling with eyes wide open, too numb to cry, too exhausted to feel anything else.
That was how our story ended. Not with a fight, not with a kiss, not even with a word. Just silence.
And that silence hurt more than any shouting match we ever had.
In the morning, Ava checked me out of the hospital. She was quiet too, gently wheeling me out while the nurses processed the discharge papers. My bruises had faded into a deep purple mosaic across my body. I could walk again, but slowly. My mind, however, wasn’t limping-it was running. It had been running all night, retracing every step of the last eight years with Ethan.
I wasn’t joyful. I wasn’t devastated. I just felt… clean. Hollow.
Like someone had taken a rag and wiped away every emotion that had once stained my chest. All that remained was the echo of too much happening too fast.
Before we left, I told Ava I wanted to visit Alexander. He was in the same hospital, still recovering from the stab wound. He’d saved my life, again. I felt I owed him something-if not a thank you, then at least a moment,
But when we passed his ward, I paused. His room was crowded
-nurses coming in and out, a doctor with a clipboard, a few suited men I assumed were from Green Group. His assistant
Mike stood near the door, arms crossed, looking like he was guarding the Alpha himself.
I didn’t want to cause trouble. Rumors, whispers, unnecessary attention. So, I turned away.
I would wait. I would thank him later-properly, privately.
From the hospital, Ava and I drove straight to the police station.
The statement was long. Exhausting. I recounted the kidnapping from the moment I noticed the tail, to the pain in my neck, to waking up tied and drenched in gasoline. They showed me photos of the man in black-the same man I’d seen loitering by the service stop.
He had been caught. Arrested late last night after a brief chase.
“He says he wasn’t hired,” the officer told me, flipping through a report. “Claims he was ‘doing a favor’ for a friend. No money changed hands.”
Of course. A dead-end alibi.
“And Chole?” I asked, voice brittle.
“She’s… playing the victim,” he muttered. “Feigning memory loss.
The Windsors are trying to push a mental health narrative again. But this time, the stabbing charge complicates things.”
I signed the final page of my statement. “She stabbed Alexander.
She planned to burn me alive. Let’s not pretend she just snapped.”
He nodded. “We won’t.”
After that, I just wanted to go home. Not to rest. Not to cry. I just wanted stillness.
And for a moment, I had it-until Ava re-entered my room holding her phone.
“Ethan,” she said simply, handing it to me. “He sent word.”
I stared at the screen for a long moment. My fingers hesitated, then tapped it open.
Ethan wasn’t calling. He had sent a message-short, formal.
“If it’s really what you want… I’ll sign. I’ve informed the lawyers.
You’ll receive the settlement. 300 million. Let’s do it tomorrow.
10 a.m. Courthouse.”
