Chapter 3 - Someone Wanted Her Dead
The room became completely silent.
Olivia stared at the frozen image of her destroyed car.
“Cut?”
The hospital director nodded.
“Deliberately.”
Ethan's entire posture changed.
Only moments earlier, he had been a suspended security guard.
Now his eyes were scanning exits, windows, faces.
Olivia noticed.
“Ethan?”
“Who knew your route Thursday?”
“My driver. My assistant. Several executives.”
“Were you supposed to drive yourself?”
“No.”
“Then why were you?”
Olivia hesitated.
“My driver became sick.”
“When?”
“That afternoon.”
Ethan looked at her sharply.
“And your replacement?”
“I canceled him. I wanted privacy.”
Ethan turned to the director.
“Who knows she's here?”
“Everyone.”
“That needs to change.”
The director bristled.
“You're suspended.”
Ethan looked at him.
“Then consider this unpaid advice.”
He faced Olivia.
“Don't go home.”
“My penthouse has private security.”
“Security didn't stop someone from reaching your brakes.”
That landed.
Olivia's phone rang.
Madison.
She answered.
“Olivia, police detectives are downstairs.”
“I know.”
“And the board is calling an emergency meeting.”
“Why?”
“They're invoking the incapacity provision.”
Olivia went still.
Her company bylaws allowed temporary executive authority to transfer if the CEO became medically unable to perform her duties.
“To whom?”
Madison hesitated.
“Victor.”
Victor Lang.
Hart Tech's chief operating officer.
Olivia's oldest professional ally.
The man who had helped build Hart Tech beside her for eleven years.
Ethan saw her face change.
“What?”
“My board is trying to replace me.”
“While you're recovering from an attempted murder?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting timing.”
Olivia looked at him.
“You think they're connected?”
“I think coincidences become less convincing when somebody cuts brake lines.”
Detectives interviewed Olivia for nearly two hours.
Ethan waited outside.
He told himself it was because he was already involved.
It wasn't.
At midnight, Olivia emerged.
“They want me moved somewhere secure.”
“Good.”
“They suggested a hotel under police protection.”
“No.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“No?”
“Too many employees. Too many entrances.”
“Where would you suggest?”
Ethan regretted the answer before saying it.
“My place.”
Olivia stared.
“You live in a two-bedroom apartment.”
“How do you know?”
“I had Madison investigate you.”
“Of course you did.”
“It was before you rejected my money.”
“That makes it better.”
“Does it?”
“No.”
Despite everything, she smiled.
By 2:00 a.m., one of America's wealthiest technology executives was sleeping on Ethan Ward's couch beneath a blanket decorated with cartoon planets.
Grace discovered her at 6:15.
She screamed.
Olivia woke instantly.
Grace covered her mouth.
“Sorry!”
Ethan rushed from the bedroom.
“What happened?”
Grace pointed.
“She's here!”
Olivia slowly sat up.
“Apparently.”
Grace looked delighted.
“Are we having a sleepover?”
Ethan closed his eyes.
Olivia smiled.
“Apparently.”
For the next forty-eight hours, Olivia lived a life almost unrecognizable from her own.
Ethan made pancakes.
Grace complained about fractions.
The upstairs neighbor vacuumed at impossible hours.
Nobody called Olivia “Ms. Hart.”
Nobody asked about stock prices.
Nobody cared what she was worth.
Grace asked her to braid her hair.
Olivia failed miserably.
Ethan laughed.
“You run a technology company but can't braid hair?”
“Can you?”
He braided Grace's hair perfectly.
Olivia stared.
“Show-off.”
“I've had five years of practice.”
The words softened the room.
Five years.
Since his wife died.
That evening, after Grace fell asleep, Olivia found Ethan sitting on the fire escape.
She joined him.
“What happened to your wife?”
He didn't answer immediately.
“Her name was Sarah.”
Olivia waited.
“Car accident.”
His jaw tightened.
“I was first on scene.”
Olivia's breath caught.
“I tried everything.”
“Ethan…”
“I'd kept soldiers alive after explosions. Gunshots. Things nobody should survive.”
He stared into the darkness.
“But I couldn't save my wife.”
Olivia finally understood.
“You didn't leave medicine because you failed.”
“To me, I did.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You were her husband, not a miracle.”
Ethan's eyes glistened.
Nobody had said it to him that way.
Olivia reached for his hand.
This time he didn't pull away.
Her phone rang.
Madison.
Olivia answered.
“I found something,” Madison whispered.
“What?”
“The day before your accident, Victor authorized a maintenance contractor to access the executive garage.”
Olivia's face drained.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“Send everything to the detectives.”
“I already did.”
A noise sounded behind Madison.
Then silence.
“Madison?”
No response.
“Madison?”
A frightened breath.
Then Madison whispered:
May you like
“Someone's in my apartment.”
The call ended.
