Trapped in a Secret Marriage with a Dangerous Billionaire - Chapter 270

Chapter 270: A Psychiatrist
The walls of the police station were suffocating. The smell of stale coffee and cheap disinfectant lingered in the air, mixing with the quiet murmurs of officers shuffling through paperwork.

Olivia stood at the front desk, her fingers drumming impatiently against the counter.

“I want to see my mother,” she said firmly, barely masking the irritation in her voice.

The officer behind the desk barely spared her a glance. “Ms. Swift, we’ve been through this before. You are not permitted to see her before her trial.”

Olivia clenched her fists, frustration bubbling beneath her skin. “And why the hell not? She’s my mother!”

The officer sighed, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere but here. “Orders from above. No exceptions.”

Before Olivia could snap back, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Ms. Swift,” Detective Woods called as he approached. His expression was neutral, but there was something in his gaze that made Olivia pause. “Causing a scene won’t change anything.”

Olivia turned to face him fully. “Detective, I haven’t seen my mother in weeks. As her child, do I not have any right to be concerned? You won’t let me see her. I don’t even know how she’s doing!”

Detective Woods studied her for a moment before responding. “Your mother collapsed this morning. She had a high fever, but she’s receiving treatment currently.”

Olivia felt her breath hitch slightly. She hadn’t expected that. She was caught between two emotions—hatred for what her mother had done and pity for the woman who had raised her.

Currently, she had no family member who genuinely loved her by her side, so it was normal for her to be at a loss on what to do.

Olivia swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, but a single tear still managed to escape the corner of her eye.

Detective Woods sighed, his voice softer this time. “I know this isn’t easy for you, but for now, she needs rest. No one is allowed to see her. However,” he added, “if there’s something you want to tell her, I can pass on a message. Even a letter, if you prefer.”

Olivia flicked the tear from her cheek with a single finger. Her resolve hardened again. She refused to look weak in front of anyone or be soft-hearted towards the mother who killed her father.

“That won’t be necessary,” she said, straightening her posture. “I’ll come back after her first trial.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heels and walked out of the station, her mind whirling with conflicting emotions.

She needed an escape.

—

An Hour Later – Japanese Restaurant.

The scent of grilled meat, simmering broths, and fresh sushi filled the air, but Olivia didn’t care about any of it. She had booked a private room, far from the curious stares of the public.

When the waiter brought out her orders—an extravagant spread of sushi, yakitori, tempura, and a steaming bowl of udon—she wasted no time.

She picked up her chopsticks and began eating with quiet fury. One bite after another, barely tasting the delicate flavors on her tongue.

She wasn’t hungry.

She wasn’t even sure why she had ordered so much food.

But with every bite, she tried to swallow down her anger, her pain, her frustration.

Her mother was a murderer. The police wouldn’t let her see her. And on top of everything else, she was alone.

No one truly cared.

Olivia’s stomach twisted, but she kept eating. If she stopped now, the emotions she was trying so hard to suppress would take over.

She wasn’t ready for that.

Not yet.

—

Swift Family Residence.

Stephanie swirled her wine glass lightly, the rich red liquid catching the dim light of the chandelier. Seated across from her was a refined-looking woman in her mid-forties, dressed in an elegant ivory blouse and beige slacks. Her gaze was sharp yet warm, the kind of look that made people feel like they were being analyzed even when she was smiling.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Freya,” Stephanie said smoothly, taking a sip from her glass.

The psychiatrist, Dr. Freya Williams, smiled knowingly. “I was intrigued when you mentioned your niece. From what you’ve told me, it sounds like she needs intervention before things spiral too far.”

Stephanie nodded in agreement just as the sound of heels clicking against the marble floor made them both turn toward the entrance.

Olivia walked into the living room, her sharp gaze instantly landing on the unfamiliar woman sitting with her aunt. She had never seen her before, and considering Stephanie never entertained guests, curiosity flickered in her eyes.

Stephanie, ever the composed one, smiled at her niece. “Olivia, you’re back.”

Olivia raised a brow. “Who’s this?”

Stephanie leaned back slightly, her smile widening. “Dr. Freya Williams, a close friend of mine. She’s a psychiatrist.”

Olivia’s expression darkened immediately. A psychiatrist? Something about this didn’t feel right.

Before she could question it, Stephanie continued smoothly, “And she’s here for you.”

Olivia’s stomach twisted. “What do you mean?” she asked warily.

Stephanie tilted her head slightly, observing her with the same sharp gaze she always used when she was two steps ahead. “I mean, your behaviour lately has been… concerning. You need professional help.”

Olivia scoffed and folded her arms. “I don’t need any damn help.”

Dr. Williams merely observed, not taking offence. She had dealt with countless defensive patients before. Olivia was no different.

Stephanie, however, took a sip of her wine before saying, “Olivia, let’s not be dramatic. Your actions in the past few weeks have proven that you need guidance. And I’m giving you the opportunity to get it before things become irreversible.”

Olivia’s nails dug into her palms. “I don’t need a shrink,” she bit out.

Stephanie sighed and placed her glass down. “Fine. You don’t need help. Then I suppose someone else will have to take your position at Vintage Cellar.”

Olivia’s entire body went rigid.

“I can’t let anyone who doesn’t have any control over their emotions and image be given a seat on my company’s board of directors.” Stephanie’s smile didn’t waver. “Your choice.”

Silence filled the room, thick with tension. Olivia’s lips parted slightly as if she wanted to argue, but nothing came out.

“You’re blackmailing me,” Olivia accused.

Stephanie leaned forward slightly, her expression unreadable. “I’m giving you a second chance to reclaim what you think is yours. In the future, don’t ever say I didn’t.”

Olivia’s fists clenched. Beyond reasonable doubt, she was a little bit concerned that her Aunt would go out of her way to care about her mental health and even link her up with a doctor friend.

She needed time to think deeply, but there was no point fighting this—she had been completely cornered, and returning to her position at her father’s company was more important to her than anything at the moment.

Olivia knew Stephanie wasn’t bluffing when she said someone else would take over her position. After all, her two children would be here in a few days, and it was only a matter of time before she gave them roles in Vintage Cellar.

After a long pause, she exhaled sharply and muttered, “Fine.”

Stephanie’s smile returned in full force. “Wonderful.” Then she turned to Dr. Williams. “Freya, what do you think? Can we start tomorrow?”

Dr. Williams gave a small nod. “It’s a bit soon, but I will adjust my schedule.”

She reached into her purse and retrieved a crisp, white business card, extending it toward Olivia. “We’ll begin tomorrow. Call my office before noon.”

Olivia snatched the card and turned away, marching out of the living room without another word.

Stephanie watched her go, taking another slow sip of her wine.

Dr. Williams chuckled lightly. “She’s fiery.”

Stephanie put her glass away and said, “Let’s hope it won’t become a problem later.”