Chapter <b>69</b><b>: </b><b>Poisonous </b><b>Wh </b>
<b>Chapter </b><b>69</b><b>: </b><b>Poisonous </b><b>Whispers</b><b>–</b><b>1 </b>
<b>Chapter </b><b>69</b><b>: </b>Poisonous Whispers
<b>(</b><b>Olivia’s POV</b>)
<b>I </b>gathered <b>the </bst of my <b>files </b>on Noah’s case, tucking them neatly into my leather portfolio. <b>The </b><b>office </b><b>had </b>emptied hours ago, leaving me alone with the soft hum of the air conditioning and the asional <b>ping </b><b>of </bte–night emails.
My stomach growled, reminding me I’d been waiting for Connor. I checked my phone again, <b>though </b>I <b>knew </b><b>he </b>wouldn’t arrive. His call about Vanessa’s poisoning had changed our ns entirely.
“Silver poisoning,” I murmured to myself, zipping my portfolio closed.
The implications were troubling. Silver poisoning was rarely idental–someone had deliberately targeted Connor’s foster sister. Despite ourplicated history, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
My phone buzzed with a text from Connor: “I’m sorry about tonight. I’ll make it up to you. Stay safe.”
I smiled despite my disappointment, typing back: “Don’t worry. Take care of Vanessa. Call me when <b>you </b>can.”
Gathering my things, I headed out of the building. The night air was cool against my skin as I locked the
office door behind me.
“Dinner for one it is,” I sighed, walking toward a small diner across the street.
The ce was nearly empty, just a couple of truckers nursing coffee at the counter. I slid into a booth by the window, ordered a sandwich, and tried not to think about how I’d rather be having dinner with Connor.
After eating quickly, I drove back to my apartment at Riverdale Terrace. The parking lot was poorly lit, shadows stretching between the few workingmps.
I parked as close to the entrance as possible, scanning the darkness before getting out. Connor’s warnings about staying vignt had taken root in my mind.
The elevator ride to my floor was uneventful, but as I approached my apartment door, a familiar scent made my steps falter.
Ethan.
tensed, my keys clutched tightly in my hand. His distinctive cologne–expensive and subtle–reached me before I saw him emerge from the shadows near my door.
“Workingte again, Olivia?” His voice was smooth as he stepped into the dim hallway light.
I kept my expression neutral, though my wolf bristled defensively. “What are you doing here, Ethan<b>?</b>”
His blue eyes gleamed as he looked me over, concern painted across his features so perfectly it might have fooled someone who didn’t know him as well as I did.
“I was worried about you,” he said, moving closer. “It’s not safe for you to be out alone sote.” Linserted my key into the lock, determined to end this conversation quickly. “I’m perfectly capable <b>of </b>taking
care of myself.”
“Are you?” He raised an eyebrow. “There have been reports of omega attacks in this area. <b>I </b><b>thought </b><b>I </b><b>should </b>
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Chapter <b>69. </b>Poisonous Wh.
<b>check </b>on <b>you</b><b>.</b><b>” </b>
<b>“</b><b>How </b>thoughtful,” I <b>replied </b><b>coldly, </b><b>turning </b>the key. “But <b>unnecessary</b><b>. </b><b>Goodnight</b>, <b>Ethan</b><b>. </b>
<b>I </b><b>pushed </b><b>the </b><b>door </b>open, <b>ready </b>to step <b>inside </b><b>and </b>shut him <b>out, </b><b>but </b>Ethan moved with <b>surprising </b><b>speed</b><b>. </b><b>His </b>
frame blocked the doorway, preventing me from closing <b>it</b>.
“Don’t you want to know where your precious Alpha is right now<b>?</b><b>” </b>he asked<b>, </b>his tone <b>dripping </b><b>with </b>false
Innocence.
I <b>froze</b>, my hand still on the doorknob. <b>“</b><b>Connor </b>is dealing with a family emergency. Not <b>that </b>it’s <b>any </b><b>of </b><b>your </b>
business.”
<b>Ethan’s </b>lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Is that what he told you? While you’re <b>here </b><b>alone</b><b>, </b>Connor Rivers is with Jessica Sullivan.”
My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my expression carefully nk. “I don’t know who that is<b>, </b><b>and </b>I <b>don’t </b><b>care </b>for your games.”
“No games,” Ethan said, pulling out his phone. “Just truth you deserve to hear.”
Before I could protest<b>, </b>he pressed y on an audio recording. A woman’s voice, broken with sobs<b>, </b>filled <b>the </b>
hallway.
“I can’t take it anymore,” she cried. “After what they did to me… the kidnapping… I just need you, Connor. You’re the only one who understands.”
My blood ran cold as the recording continued, the woman’s desperate pleas punctuated by what sounded like Connor’s deep, soothing responses in the background.
“Who is she?” I asked, hating how my voice wavered slightly.
Ethan’s eyes gleamed with triumph at my reaction. “Jessica Sullivan. She was arrested for stalking me a few months ago, but then she disappeared. Turns out she was kidnapped.”
I shook my head, confusion and disbelief warring within me. “What does this have to do with Connor<b>?</b><b>” </b>
“He’s been helping her recover,” Ethan said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Quite intimately, from what I hear. Did he tell you about her? About how he visits her almost daily?”
My mind raced, trying to make sense of this information. Connor had been busytely, often canceling <i>our </i>ns with vague exnations about pack business.
“You’re lying,” I said, but uncertainty had crept into my voice.
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