Chapter 39: The Trap at the Banquet–1


    Chapter 39: The Trap at the Banquet


    (Olivia’s POV)


    I paid no attention to Ethan Grey’s departure from the banquet. His presence–or


    absence–meant nothing to me now.


    Holding a crystal flute of champagne, I smiled politely as I conversed with yet another important guest. The evening had be a blur of introductions and small talk.


    Connor stood beside me, his tall framemanding respect as he introduced me to


    several influential figures in legal and academic circles. His hand asionally


    brushed against the small of my back, a subtle gesture of support that didn’t go


    unnoticed by the observant wolves around us.


    “This is Olivia Winters,” he would say, his deep voice carrying a hint of pride. “One of


    the most promising youngwyers in Riverdale.”


    Alexander, not to be outdone, had been parading me around to meet various


    business associates and pack leaders. His enthusiasm was exhausting but


    endearing.


    “My brilliant cousin,” he’d announce with a flourish. “The Winters pack’s finest.”


    After hours ofworking, my feet were screaming in protest. The elegant heels I’d chosen <i>for </i>the evening had be instruments of torture. I leaned close to Connor,


    catching his familiar scent.


    “You handle things here,” I whispered softly in his ear. “I’m going to rest on the sofa


    for a bit.”


    Connor nodded slightly, his ice–blue eyes meeting mine briefly before returning to his conversation with the middle–aged couple before him. Even that fleeting nce carried warmth that only I could see.


    I made my way to a plush sofa in a quieter corner of the grand hall. Sinking into the cushions, I slipped off my heels beneath the table and massaged my aching feet with a sigh of relief.


    < Chapter 39: The Trap at th.


    A waiter approached with a silver tray. “Strawberry juice, miss? It’s freshly made.”


    My favorite. I epted the ss with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”


    +8 Points


    The juice was deliciously sweet and refreshing. I took several sips, suddenly realizing


    how thirsty I’d been. My stomach growled softly, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten


    before arriving at the banquet.


    Rising briefly, I visited the buffet table and selected a small piece of cake. The rich


    dessert paired perfectly with the strawberry juice as I settled back onto the sofa.


    My gaze drifted across the room, inevitably finding Connor. He stood tall among the


    guests, his presencemanding yet not overbearing. As if sensing my attention, he


    looked up, our eyes meeting across the crowded space.


    I smiled, feeling my eyes curve with genuine happiness. After a moment’s pause, his


    lips curled into that rare, subtle smile he reserved only <i>for </i>me before he turned back


    to his conversation.


    The sight warmed me more than any champagne could. I watched him quietly, my heart full of tenderness and affection I never thought I’d feel again.


    The unpleasantness with Ethan earlier had left nosting impression. It was like watching a movie about strangers–emotionally distant and ultimately forgettable.


    Now, Connor filled my entire vision and thoughts.


    Memories surfaced unbidden. As a child, I’d dreamed of a loving marriage like my parents had. I remembered watching my mother Sarah’s face light up whenever my father entered a room, the way they’d dance in the kitchen when they thought no one


    was watching.


    But then came my mother’s death from wolfsbane poisoning. The light left our home, and when my father Richard remarried Natalie just two yearster, my childhood fantasy shatteredpletely. I lost faith in love and marriage, seeing them as nothing but convenient arrangements destined to be betrayed.


    When the alliance with Connor was first proposed, I viewed it as merely a business arrangement–a cold, political union that would benefit our packs but offer nothing more than politepanionship without real intimacy.


    Yet as we grew <b>closer </b>these past weeks, I began seeing the truth that had been there


    < Chapter 39: The Trap at th….


    +5 Points <b>> </b>


    all along. Connor’s gentle persistence wasn’t new–it had been a constant throughout my life.


    Long ago, when my mother passed away, Connor had quietly started caring for me in


    his own way. He’d secretly learned to cook traditional dishes, then arranged for


    Dorothy Jenkins to deliver them to me, pretending they were from the elderly woman


    herself.


    He’d tutored me tirelessly through difficult subjects, helping me gain admission to


    Riverdale University despite my grief–stricken state. The marriage alliance proposed


    three years ago had been entirely his idea; he’d actively approached my father, eager


    to formalize our bond sooner rather thanter.


    I had fiercely opposed it then, even running away from home to Harbor City. Yet Connor never med me for my rejection. For three years, he traveled endlessly between Riverdale and Harbor City just to catch glimpses of me–yet never disturbed my life with Ethan, respecting my choices even when they must have hurt him deeply.


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