Trapped in a Secret Marriage with a Dangerous Billionaire - Chapter 179

Chapter 179: Olivia is not Afraid

The Scott Family’s Main Residence.

The grand doors of the Scott family mansion opened, and Olivia stepped in, her heels echoing against the marble floor. The butler, standing at attention near the entrance, gave her a polite nod.

“Madam, Mr. and Mrs. Scott are waiting for you in the inner living room,” he informed her.

Olivia’s brows arched slightly, but she nodded, hiding her curiosity. “Thank you.” She handed him her coat before striding gracefully toward the living room.

—

Patricia and Richard Scott were seated side by side on a plush, two-seater couch. Their expressions were grave, with Richard gripping the armrest while Patricia’s lips were pressed into a thin line.

“Good evening,” Olivia greeted, her voice smooth but guarded as she walked in and settled into the single couch across from them.

Richard wasted no time. “Olivia, who gave you permission to drag our family into your public spectacle of an interview?”

Olivia’s composed mask didn’t falter. “I didn’t drag anyone into anything, Father,” she replied, her tone firm yet respectful. “I only spoke the truth. You asked me to remain in this marriage, and I simply reiterated that.”

Richard’s fist clenched. “Do not twist my words. What you said was manipulative and cunning. You’ve painted us into a corner with your so-called ‘truth.'”

Patricia chimed in, her voice sharp. “Olivia, we warned you about engaging the media on sensitive topics when you just got married to Owen. What were you thinking?”

Olivia crossed her legs and leaned back slightly. “I was thinking of salvaging what’s left of my reputation after everything your son has done to it.” Her tone carried a sting that made Patricia bristle.

“Don’t play the victim, Olivia,” Patricia snapped. “You’ve brought plenty of this on yourself.”

“I’m not playing anything,” Olivia countered. “I’ve simply grown tired of waiting for someone else to defend me. So, I decided to speak for myself.”

Richard stood abruptly, his towering frame casting a shadow over Olivia. “You will not accept another interview without our consent. This is your only warning.”

Olivia rose slowly, her expression serene despite the tension crackling in the room. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m not a child. I will handle this my way.” She inclined her head in a mock bow. “If you’ll excuse me, it’s been a long day.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked out, her heels clicking against the floor.

“Unbelievable,” Patricia muttered, staring at her retreating figure. “She’s becoming impossible to control.”

Richard’s jaw tightened. “If she won’t listen, I will ensure no small media outlet dares to approach her again.”

Patricia sighed. “Perhaps it’s time we assigned someone to keep an eye on her.”

—

Olivia entered her bedroom to find Owen pacing furiously. His head snapped up when he heard the door open.

“Olivia!” he bellowed, his face a mask of rage. “What the hell was that interview about?”

She scoffed, walking past him toward the bed. “Do I need to explain myself to you?” she asked as she dropped her handbag onto the bed. “I think you forfeited that right long ago.”

Owen followed her, his fists clenched. “You dragged my name into your circus of lies and made it seem like everything is fine between us. What’s your game, Olivia?”

She laughed humourlessly, slipping off her earrings. “Would you have preferred I told the world the truth? That you’re a scoundrel who killed our child and can’t keep your pants zipped?”

Owen’s face turned red. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” he spat. “I know you’re setting me up for something.”

“I don’t need to set you up, Owen,” she replied, standing to her full height and staring him down. “You’re doing a fine job ruining yourself.”

His glare deepened. “Sign the divorce papers, Olivia. Do it amicably, or I will file for one myself and make sure you’re humiliated in public,” he said, pointing to her dresser.

Her eyes narrowed as she stepped closer to him, her voice dropping to a deadly calm. “Try it, and I’ll make sure your precious family’s reputation is dragged through the mud along with mine. You will be signing your company’s death warrant.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” she challenged, holding his gaze until he finally stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

As the echo of the slam faded, Olivia scoffed, muttering under her breath, “Divorce? Over my dead body.”

—

Meanwhile, at the Swift family residence, Stella sat in her living room, glaring at her phone after watching Olivia’s interview. Her fingers trembled with rage as she gripped the device.

“How could she do something so reckless without consulting me first?” Stella seethed, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

A maid approached cautiously with a glass of water. “Ma’am, is everything all right?”

“No!” Stella snapped, though she accepted the water and took a long sip. She set the glass down with a clink and muttered, “That girl will be the death of me.”

—

Back in her bedroom, Olivia retrieved the divorce papers from the dresser. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she flipped through them, her lips curling into a sneer.

“So, you really mean it this time, Owen,” she muttered, her voice dripping with venom.

Without hesitation, she tore the papers into pieces. Next, she went into the bathroom and dumbed them into the bin before returning to the bedroom.

“Owen, keep dreaming if you think you can leave me,” she whispered, her tone, icy.

—

Moments later, Olivia’s phone rang. Seeing ‘Mum’ on the screen, she sighed before answering.

“Hello—”

“Olivia, what on earth were you thinking with that interview?” Stella’s voice thundered through the phone.

Olivia rolled her eyes. “I was thinking about clearing my name and setting the record straight. Is that a crime now?”

“You’ve just made everything worse!” Stella scolded. “The citizens will eat you up! Also, do you think the Scott family will let you get away with this?”

“Mother, you’re being paranoid,” Olivia replied coolly. “I’ve handled it. There’s nothing they can do.”

“Handled it?!” Stella’s laugh was sharp and humourless. “Do you think you can control them? They could crush you with a single word!”

“I’m not afraid of them,” Olivia said firmly. “And I certainly don’t need your advice.”

“Olivia, listen to me—”

“Goodnight, Mother,” Olivia interrupted before ending the call and tossing her phone onto the bed.

She stared at the ceiling, her expression hardening. “Everyone thinks they can control me or tell me what to do,” she murmured to herself. “Let’s see who wins this game.”