Chapter 12: Strength in the Storm

Ethan barely had time to register the shadowy figures approaching them before one of the attackers lunged, fist raised. Instinct took over, and he pushed Olivia behind him, taking the full force of the blow squarely across his jaw. His head snapped back, pain exploding across his face, but his only thought was to protect her.

"Ethan!" Olivia cried out, her eyes wide in shock as she saw him stagger. Blood rushed to her ears, her pulse quickening as anger flared inside her.

The attacker aimed another punch, but this time Olivia wasn't going to let it land. She pushed past Ethan's swaying form, stepping in front of him with a fierce determination etched on her face.

"Enough!" she shouted, her voice slicing through the cold night air like a whip.

The second attacker moved toward her, but Olivia dodged swiftly, her reflexes sharp. She grabbed the man's arm, twisting it behind his back with a practiced precision. He groaned in pain, but Olivia wasn't done. With a swift kick to his legs, she sent him crashing to the ground.

Before the first attacker could get his bearings, Olivia had already turned to face him. She ducked as he swung at her, his movements slow and clumsy compared to her sharp agility. In one fluid motion, she grabbed a nearby trash can lid, slamming it into his side. He let out a strangled cry before stumbling backward, the force of the blow knocking him off balance.

Olivia's heart raced as she looked at the two attackers, now groaning on the ground, trying to recover. The adrenaline coursing through her veins made her feel invincible. But then, she heard a soft groan from behind her.

"Ethan," she breathed, turning to see him still struggling to stay upright, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned against the car for support. Panic surged through her.

Without another glance at the attackers, Olivia rushed to Ethan's side, cradling his face in her hands. His skin was clammy, and his eyelids drooped as though he were fighting to stay conscious.

"Ethan, stay with me!" she urged, her voice shaking. She carefully guided him into the passenger seat of the car, her hands trembling as she buckled him in. She slammed the door shut, running around to the driver's side, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts.

As she sped toward the hospital, she glanced over at him every few seconds. His head rested against the window, eyes half-closed, a dazed expression on his face. A fresh wave of anger surged through her. This was all her fault. She should have been more careful, more prepared. How could she have let this happen?

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel as she pushed the accelerator harder. They made it to the hospital in record time.

The emergency room was bright and sterile, the smell of antiseptic overwhelming her senses as Olivia rushed Ethan inside, barely able to keep her voice steady as she explained the situation to the staff. A nurse quickly helped her transfer Ethan onto a stretcher and whisked him away into the examination room.

Olivia was left standing alone in the waiting area, her heart thundering in her chest. She couldn't sit still, pacing the room as her mind spun with fear and anger. Who were those men? And how had this happened?

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor came out, his expression calm. Olivia rushed forward, her heart in her throat.

"Is he okay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor smiled gently. "He's going to be fine. He has a mild concussion, but nothing too serious. He'll need to rest for a few hours, but he should be alright after that."

Olivia let out a long breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, her shoulders sagging in relief. "Thank you," she murmured.

"You can see him now," the doctor added before walking away.

Olivia entered the room cautiously, her eyes immediately falling on Ethan, lying on the hospital bed. He looked peaceful, his breathing steady, though there was still a bruise forming on his jaw from the earlier attack. She moved closer, sitting in the chair beside his bed, her eyes scanning his face.

For a moment, she just sat there in silence, watching him rest. She didn't realize how tightly wound she had been until now. Her shoulders ached from the tension, and her hands were still shaking slightly. But seeing him there, safe and breathing, filled her with a sense of calm.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips. She reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. The sight of him so vulnerable stirred something deep inside her. The raw emotion that had overwhelmed her during her confession at the press conference returned with full force. This man, who had once been her rival, was now the person she couldn't imagine her life without.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, snapping her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen—Emma.

With one last glance at Ethan, Olivia stepped outside the room to take the call.

"Emma," she said, her voice steady now. "I need to know who sent those attackers. And I need to know how the marriage contract was leaked to Alexander."

On the other end, Emma's voice was sharp and focused. "I'm already on it, Liv. The second I heard about the attack, I started digging. And… you're not going to like this."

Olivia frowned, her grip tightening on the phone. "What do you mean?"

"There's a mole in your office," Emma said, her tone grim. "Someone's been feeding information to Alexander for weeks. That's how he got his hands on the marriage contract. I don't know who yet, but I'm getting closer."

A chill ran down Olivia's spine. A mole. Someone had betrayed them—betrayed her. She should've known something like this was possible, but the realization still hit her like a punch to the gut.

"I want names," Olivia said through gritted teeth, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. "And I want them now."

"I'm working on it, Liv," Emma replied. "I'll get you what you need. Just hang tight."

Olivia hung up, her mind racing. A mole in her office. It was unthinkable, but the evidence was undeniable. She turned back toward Ethan's room, her resolve hardening with every step she took.

Whoever had done this—whoever had put them in danger—was going to pay.