Olivia’s POV

I wasn’t just in Lennox’s room because I was scared. I had a reason—a task to complete. A few minutes earlier, I’d spoken to Mr. Grim, Lolita’s uncle. He told me he could help, but first, he needed the full case file—everything. He needed the court evidence: the names of those who claimed to see my father steal the jewelry, the witnesses who testified against him, the judge who sentenced him to life imprisonment. Every detail leading to his conviction. He said with all that, he might find flaws in the case and prove my father’s innocence.

It’s been over four years—four long years of silence, of not knowing the truth. And now… maybe there’s a way. I’ve been a maid in this pack house for a long time. I’ve cleaned every corner, seen more than they think. I know Lennox keeps a safe in his room. I’ve dusted it, wiped it, arranged the books beside it. I know the small silver key hidden behind the third drawer on the left. I believe my father’s file is inside. It has to be. That’s why I came.

“Come on, lie on the bed,” Lennox said softly. I nodded, moving towards the bed. Maintaining my pretense of fear, I lay on one side, covered myself with the blanket, turning my back to Lennox, who also got onto the bed. I inhaled softly, closed my eyes, pretending to sleep—but I wasn’t. My plan was to sneak out once he fell asleep. I just had to wait and listen to his heartbeat.

Yes, I could hear each of the triplets’ heartbeats when I focused, and right now, Lennox’s was racing. I frowned slightly under the blanket, confused. Why was he breathing so hard? It was as if he’d just run a race—or was having a panic attack. But he didn’t move; he lay still, silent. Was he nervous? Was it… me? I didn’t dare look. I stayed perfectly still, pretending to sleep, listening carefully. His heartbeat didn’t slow for a long time.

I could feel the tension in the air. Even without touching, his presence was overwhelming. My body was stiff, alert, but I didn’t move. I stayed perfectly still, pretending to sleep, but his heartbeat wasn’t calming; if anything, it grew louder, more frantic—a steady, fast drum echoing in my ears. It was getting hard to ignore.

After a few moments, I sighed softly. I couldn’t help it—I spoke. “You’re not asleep, are you?” I asked quietly, still facing away.

There was a pause, then a soft sigh. “No.”

“This might sound strange,” I whispered without turning, “but I can hear your heartbeat.”

Silence.

“You are supposed to… You are my…” he paused… but I already knew.

“It’s… fast,” I added. “Why is it so fast?”

I finally turned to him, meeting his eyes in the dim light. “Are you okay?”

Lennox’s gaze held mine for a long second before he replied in a low, rough voice. “It’s the effect of you.”

I blinked. “What?”

“My heartbeat,” he said. “It races like this because of you. Whenever you’re around.”

My brows drew together in confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

He just looked at me, saying nothing more. Like he didn’t know how to explain it, or didn’t want to.

I hated the effect it had on me, so I put on an act. My voice turned firmer, a little colder. “I’m someone’s wife, Alpha Lennox. Your heart shouldn’t race for me.”

I didn’t wait for his reaction. I turned back around slowly, pulling the blanket over my shoulder. And this time, I forced myself to go still. But my own heart was no longer calm either. Not after hearing that.

A few minutes passed. Then, slowly… finally… his heartbeat began to slow, gradually finding a rhythm. And I realized he was asleep.

I waited a little longer—just to be sure. I counted seconds in my head. I needed to be careful. One wrong move, and everything I came here for could be ruined. Quietly, I began to lift the blanket, preparing to slide out of bed. My fingers barely gripped the edge when—

A strong arm suddenly wrapped around my waist. I froze. Panic surged through me as my breath caught in my throat. Was he awake? No. No—his heartbeat. I focused on it again. Still steady. Still slow. Still asleep.

He shifted in his sleep, pulling me back, his grip tightening enough to keep me close. My back pressed against his chest; I felt the heat of his body. His breath fanned across my neck—slow, heavy, and warm. Then… I felt it. His nose brushed against my skin, nuzzling lightly at my neck as he exhaled deeply, as though soothed by my scent. Another sigh, soft and content, before he stilled again. He was really asleep. But now I was trapped.

My heart pounded wildly, even as I told myself to stay calm. This wasn’t part of the plan. I couldn’t move without waking him. So I lay there, tense and still, his arm heavy around me, his body warm and firm behind mine. I hated how safe it felt, and I was forced to lie there with him.

His breathing stayed calm, steady against the back of my neck. But then—I felt movement again. His hand shifted slowly, fingers brushing the hem of my oversized shirt. My breath caught. Was he awake? No. His heartbeat—still slow. Still deep in sleep. But his hand didn’t stop. It slipped under the fabric, rough fingertips grazing my waist. I clenched my jaw, unsure what to do, what to feel. My mind screamed at me to move, to pull away—but I didn’t. I couldn’t.

His hand moved higher, dragging lightly up my side until—it cupped my breast. A soft gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it, but Lennox didn’t react. Instead, he sighed—low and heavy—like a man finally at peace. Then, barely audible, he murmured, “Mine…”

My eyes widened. He didn’t even know what he was doing. He was still asleep. His thumb brushed over my nipple, and a jolt of heat rushed through me so fast I had to bite my lip to keep from making a sound. My heart raced wildly, pounding against my ribcage.

What was happening to me? I should’ve pulled away. I should’ve stopped him. But I didn’t. It wasn’t supposed to feel this good. It wasn’t supposed to make me forget why I was here.

My eyes fluttered closed, my body betraying me as a quiet warmth bloomed in my core. I hated how it made me feel—how my skin burned at his touch, how my breath came faster, shallower. He was still asleep, still lost in whatever dream had him whispering possessively. His fingers stopped moving eventually, but he didn’t let go. He simply curled around me, his hand still holding my breast like it belonged there. His breathing deepened… and then I heard a soft snore. He was truly asleep now. And I was still trapped in his arms, my heart pounding, my body aching with confusion. This wasn’t part of the plan.