Watch Me Win Alpha (Olivia and Ethan) novel Chapter 75

Chapter 75

I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. Not even Ava. I just

wanted solitude. No familiar faces. No expectations. No

whispers behind my back.

I merged onto the freeway, my playlist low in the background.

For the first time in weeks, the silence felt like mine.

Little did I know, I had left New York unaware that two cars

were following me.

Olivia’s POV

The sun in Jersey wasn’t as harsh as in New York. Or maybe I

just liked it better here. The wind carried the scent of tomatoes

and old soil, and the rocking chair on my grandmother’s porch

creaked like it belonged to a gentler time.

But my phone was a portal to hell.

I stared at it as the screen refreshed–another thread, another

video, another faceless stranger dissecting my life.

@citylegalbuzz: “Olivia Whitmore’s rebuttal seems rehearsed.

Who even talks like that unless they’re hiding something?”

@sweetvengeance22: “Not defending Chole but… if Olivia was so

innocent, why does she have hotel surveillance to clear her name? Sounds prepared ”

@truthhuntNY: “Still remember how Ethan broke down

captured on a video saying he loved his wife. Now it’s all scandal and smoke. Who’s lying?”

@jadebylaw: “As a lawyer, this is textbook gaslighting. Olivia’s video held back way too much. She knows more than she’s

saying. Why?”

@hearthawthorne: “Let’s not forget she slapped a woman to unconsciousness at an airport. That’s not the behavior of a

victim.”

I turned the screen off.

Then turned it on again.

Support still came in waves. There were people who remembered the charity gala. People who remembered Chole’s pathetic little performance. And those who had caught the inconsistencies in Amelia’s press conference.

But others… others were far more ruthless.

I closed my eyes and tossed the phone onto the small metal table beside me. It clattered too loud for the soft air around us.

The sound of cicadas filled the silence. I leaned back in my yard

chair, resting my forehead on the back of my wrist. I didn’t

want to go inside. Not yet. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.

Then I heard voices upstairs.

I didn’t mean to listen. The windows were open and the wind

had carried their words to me.

“Linda, we’ve talked about this,” Grandma Angelina said sternly.

“You’re not bringing the Caters into this.””

My mother’s voice was taut. “She’s not safe anymore, Ma. Look

at her. She’s barely sleeping. That girl’s husband tried to force

her into a car like a goddamn prisoner, and the press? The

Windsors? They’re ripping her apart.”

“Still not a reason to drag in demons from the past.”

I stiffened in my seat.

“But-”

“No,” Grandma repeated. “Don’t bring this up in front of Olivia

again!”

Chapter 75

I blinked hard, eyes stinging.

The Cater family?

Who… who exactly am I?

Is there more to my identity?

After a short while, my mother descend the stairs–her red- rimmed eyes surprisingly striking in the midday light.

Something softened in me. I gestured toward the kitchen. “Hey, Mom. Want to help me make lunch?”

She paused, then gave a small nod. Grandma Angelina followed,

eyes shadowed but her posture steady. The tension of the

upstairs conversation seemed to linger, but something in the air

had shifted.

“I’ll cook your favorite,” I said, pulling out the ingredients.

“Penne arrabbiata.”

“You never used to like spice,” Mom teased, drying her eyes

quickly.

“Past me didn’t know good food,” I winked. I handed her the

garlic for chopping, Grandma tied an apron around her waist-

an evocative flash of nostalgia..