Exclusively Yours - Episode 4
Subtitle; {Please, Love Me}
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Olivia's POV
I tried my best. I really, really tried to do something about the bakery, but Riccardo Torrence has an unshakeable hold on the situation.
I've never been one to burden others with my problems; I prefer to handle things on my own in my own way. But today, I couldn't do it alone.
I let out a deep, exhausted breath and lightly knocked on Axel's door. His voice ushered me in.
"Oh, Peach, it's you," he said, surprised to see me in his office. I managed to force a small smile. "What's wrong? You don't look okay."
Because I'm not.
"I need your help," I replied.
He walked towards me, opening his arms, and I rushed into his comforting embrace. "What's wrong, Liv?"
I stepped back, looking into his eyes as I poured out the whole issue, purposefully leaving out the part about Riccardo. Axel listened attentively, his face professional yet caring.
After I finished explaining, Axel nodded. "I'll take care of it, peach."
But can he really?
I mean, Axel Morris is a highly respected lawyer, and I'm fortunate to have him as a friend. But Riccardo Torrence operates on a whole different level. He's known worldwide, appears on TV regularly, and has his own fandom.
Can Axel fix the problem Riccardo created?
My guess is no, but I have to remain hopeful.
"Take a deep breath and relax. Nothing will happen to the bakery," Axel reassured me.
I really hope so.
Two hours later, the door to Axel's office opened, and he walked in, looking tired. He looked up at me and let out a heavy sigh.
I stood up from the seat, walking towards him before he reached me. "What happened?" I asked impatiently, eager to hear what had transpired.
He had told me to wait for him here, assuring me that he would take care of everything and return in an hour.
"Sorry, I couldn't solve it. I thought I could do something, but apparently, the land was bought by someone very influential, and they wouldn't let it go," Axel explained.
"But that's my mother's shop! She bought it," I exclaimed, placing a hand on my waist. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. "I can't lose it. It means so much to me."
"Yes, I know, peach. But everything was legally purchased, and there's nothing we can do," Axel said sympathetically.
I wanted to strañgle that despicàble man.
"How can it be legal?" I yelled in frustration, tears welling up in my eyes. They cascaded down my face uncontrollably. "This can't happen! I won't allow it. My mom loved her bakery."
Axel pulled me into a tight hug, comforting me while gently brushing his hand against my hair. "Sssh, Liv. Please don't cry. You know I don't like that. Everything will work out in the end."
He was right. Everything would work out. But I had to do my part. I had to take action to save my mom's bakery.
Sniffling, I pulled away from the hug and wiped the tears from my face. "You're right. It'll be fine. Everything will fall into place."
"Exactly, peach," he confirmed, looking at me with a puzzled expression. "Why do you have that look on your face?"
A small smile graced my lips at his observation. "What look?"
"Like you've got an idea in that pretty little head, and it's making me uneasy," Axel said, raising an eyebrow.
I felt the same.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I denied, turning back to retrieve my phone from his desk. "I have to go. Thank you, bud."
But Axel held my wrist, turning me to face him. "Where are you going?"
"Somewhere."
"Oh, really? I wouldn't have guessed," he sarcastically replied, rolling his eyes. His friendly tone vanished, replaced by a stern, professional voice. "I'm serious, Olivia. Tell me, where are you off to? Talk. I'm listening."
How could I tell my best friend that I was going to subject myself to a man all for the sake of the bakery? How would he react?
"I have a friend who may be able to help," I said, scoffing internally at the term "friend" when referring to that jérk.
He wasn't a friend; he was a fóe. A big fuckíng fóe.
"A friend? Another lawyer friend that I don't know about?" Axel asked, his voice slightly offended.
"No."
Time was ticking, and I urgently needed to leave.
He pressed for more, his eyes piercing mine. "So, where are you going?"
"He's a really good friend of mine, and I think he can help."
"Do I know him?"
"Kind of."
Confusion wrinkled his forehead. Before he could ask another question, I darted out of the office.
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"Fúck!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, slamming my hand against the steering wheel of my car. "Why now?"
The rain poured heavily outside, and my car had decided to run out of gas when I was in a hurry.
Stúpid car.
I looked out of the window and let out a heavy sigh. Steeling myself, I stepped out into the downpour, the rain immediately soaking me from head to toe.
I ran as fast as my legs could carry me to reach Riccardo's company on time. Finally reaching my destination, my clothes were drenched, and I shivered uncontrollably, my lips quivering.
I burst into his office once again, and this time, he was alone. He sat in his seat, engrossed in some task. His attention shifted to me as the door shut.
Riccardo sprung up from his seat and walked towards me, his face filled with concern and worry. He reached out and grabbed my forearms. "Are you okay? You're drenched! Why did you come here in the rain?"
I was too stunned to speak. My mouth opened, but no words came out. I scanned his face again, making sure I wasn't mistaken about his genuine concern for me.
"You could have called. I gave you my number," he scolded, his jet-black eyes tracing over my wet attire.
I shuddered and closed my eyes, hoping the warmth inside his office would thaw my frozen body. He sighed, walked to his desk, and grabbed a remote control.
The AC turned off, and the heater kicked in. My tense muscles relaxed, and I closed my eyes, relishing the enveloping warmth. However, my soaked clothes prevented me from fully enjoying it.
Riccardo returned to his desk and pressed the intercom. "Fetch me a hoodie and joggers right away."
"I'm fine," I lied.
The truth was far from fine. I needed to get out of my wet clothes before catching a cold, but I didn't want his help.
He glanced at me and nodded. "Yes, I can clearly see that."
"We need to talk," I asserted.
"Not now," he replied.
What did he mean?
"I want to talk now."
"I said, not now," he said, enunciating each word with finality. His voice carried a strict tone. "You're soaking wet, and I can't let you get sick."
"Why not? Why do you care if I get sick or not?" I asked, glaring at him. "Why should it matter to you?"
A smile slowly formed on his face as he moved closer in deliberate steps. "The question should be, why shouldn't it matter to me?" The smile transformed into a wide grin as he reached me. "Why don't you understand, Olivia?"
"Understand what?" His cologne wafted into my nostrils, but I resisted the alluring scent.
"That I love you," Riccardo whispered, his finger tucking a strand of wet hair behind my ear. "I love you, Olivia, and it hurts that you won't accept it."
I swallowed hard, taking a step back. "You're delusional, Riccardo. We barely know each other for you to like me."
He shook his head. "I didn't say 'like,' I said 'love.' They're different."
Oh God, if I brought this upon myself somehow, I'm deeply sorry.
The door swung open, and a woman entered with some clothes. She handed them to Riccardo and cast a quick once-over in my direction before exiting.
"Here. Get changed, and then we can talk," he instructed.
I looked at the clothes he was offering, weighing my options. It was for my own good, so perhaps I should accept them. But if I did, he would interpret it as me reciprocating his feelings, which I did not. Yet I was also freezing, so I had to accept.
Ah!
"Thank you," I reluctantly muttered, taking the clothes from him.
He nodded, pointing to a door. "The bathroom."
My eyes automatically followed his finger, and I nodded in response. I walked briskly to the bathroom, locked the door, and took a moment to contemplate my situation.
Riccardo seemed like a decent person, and he appeared to care about me. But what if it was all a facade? What if he was a psychópath who wanted to manipulaté me for his own perverse desires? Can psychopàths be as handsome as he is?
What should I do? Should I agree to this or not?
TBC 📖✍️
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