The guest room was quiet in a way that felt sharp.
Not loud.
Not hostile.
But heavy enough that even the sound of tea lightly touching porcelain seemed too clear.
Olivia sat across from Peter with perfect posture, one hand resting against the arm of her chair, her expression calm to the point of indifference.
Only her eyes betrayed anything.
Cold.
Watchful.
Peter, meanwhile, looked completely relaxed.
One leg crossed over the other, fingers lazily stirring tea he barely drank, as though this were an ordinary family visit instead of the first time he had willingly stepped into this estate.
“You’ve changed,” he said casually.
His gaze lifted toward her slowly.
“I expected someone louder.”
A pause.
“More emotional, perhaps.”
Olivia didn’t react immediately.
She simply looked at him.
Long enough to make the faint amusement on his face feel unnecessary.
“You speak as though you know me,” she said flatly.
Peter smiled slightly.
“The entire empire knows you.”
“That explains the misinformation.”
That earned a quiet chuckle from him.
“And I expected a reason for your visit,” Olivia continued calmly.
“But apparently you came without one.”
Peter leaned back slightly.
“Do I need a reason to visit family?”
“Yes.”
The answer came immediately.
Without hesitation.
Peter’s brow lifted faintly.
The silence afterward stretched longer this time.
Then his gaze shifted slightly toward the window.
“That boy,” he said casually, though the subject change was too deliberate to be natural.
“You seem unusually protective of him.”
Olivia’s expression cooled further.
“Careful,” she said quietly.
Not emotional.
Not angry.
Just cold enough to make the air feel thinner.
“You are a guest here.”
Peter studied her more carefully now.
Interesting.
That possessiveness in her voice didn’t sound artificial.
“You speak as if he belongs to you.”
“He does.”
Again—
No hesitation.
Peter’s fingers stilled briefly against the teacup.
“Even if he isn’t yours?”
Olivia held his gaze without blinking.
Then slowly—
“I already answered you.”
Her voice remained level.
“He is mine.”
There was no warmth in the statement.
No softness.
Just certainty.
Peter watched her for several seconds after that, searching for uncertainty that never appeared.
Then finally, a quiet breath left him.
“…You’re not what people describe.”
Olivia stood.
Clearly finished with the conversation.
But before leaving, she paused near the door.
“Whatever you came here for,” she said without looking back, “finish it quickly.”
Her hand rested against the door handle.
Then came the final sentence.
Colder than the rest.
“And stay away from my children.”
The door closed behind her quietly.
Peter remained alone in the room for a long moment.
Thoughtful now.
Not amused.
Not mocking.
Just staring silently at the untouched tea in front of him.
“…Your children,” he repeated under his breath.
A faint smile touched his lips again, though this one carried less humor than before.
“Max, perhaps.”
His gaze lowered slightly.
“But Mike…?”
The hallway outside felt colder.
Olivia walked several steps before stopping near the window at the end of the corridor.
Outside, Max and Mike were sitting together beneath the garden tree, arguing quietly over something meaningless.
Normal.
Peaceful.
Nur approached slowly behind her.
“What he said wasn’t wrong.”
Olivia’s eyes sharpened slightly.
But she didn’t turn around immediately.
Nur continued carefully.
“Mike is not your biological son.”
Silence.
Olivia finally looked toward her.
Her expression remained composed, though irritation flickered briefly beneath it.
“I’m aware.”
Nur hesitated before speaking again.
“You want to adopt him.”
This time Olivia didn’t answer at all.
Her gaze shifted back toward the boys outside.
Max said something. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Mike rolled his eyes.
Then both started laughing again.
Something in Olivia’s expression softened for half a second before disappearing.
“They’re stable together,” she said quietly.
Not emotional.
Just factual.
“And I have no intention of changing that.”
Nur watched her carefully.
“Then you understand why duke came.”
Olivia’s fingers rested lightly against the window frame.
“Yes.”
A pause.
“I understood the moment I saw Mike.”
Her voice stayed calm, though slightly quieter now.
“He resembles him too much.”
“And Peter noticed immediately.”
Olivia didn’t deny it.
“The letter.
His timing.
His reaction.” Her gaze remained outside.
“None of it was subtle.”
The hallway fell silent again.
Then finally—
“He’s Mike’s father.”
The words sounded controlled.
Detached almost.
But her grip against the window tightened slightly anyway.
Nur lowered her voice carefully.
“Mike deserves to know eventually.”
“I know.”
Olivia answered too quickly this time.
A brief silence followed.
Then she spoke again, slower now.
“I know exactly what I’m doing.”
For the first time since the conversation began, exhaustion slipped faintly into her voice.
“But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Outside, Mike looked up suddenly toward the mansion windows, smiling faintly at something Max said.
Olivia watched him quietly.
Then looked away first.
“…I don’t want to lose him,” she admitted at last.
The confession came out colder than something like that should have sounded.
As if she wasn’t used to saying things she actually felt aloud.
Nur’s expression softened slightly, but Olivia spoke before she could respond.
“I know it’s selfish.”
Her gaze remained distant.
“But I spent years losing everything important.”
A pause.
“I’m tired of it.