marked by midnight: the enemy's heiress-Chapter 44 : Livia - II

With that, Mira finally left with the kids, their voices fading down the street as they bickered energetically over which cake had been better. The bell above the café door jingled softly as it closed behind them, leaving a lingering echo of laughter and tiny footsteps. Livia lingered by the window, watching the street empty, savoring the sudden hush that settled over the café—until Jason’s voice pulled her back to the present.

"So..." he said, leaning casually against the counter, arms loosely folded, a faint crease knitting his brow. "Looks like your sister approves of me."

Livia let a small smile slip, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "She does. That... wasn’t easy to earn."

Jason hummed, fingers drumming a light rhythm on the wood. "Hm... that’s good, then." He hesitated, his voice threaded with something unspoken. "But... she really married into the Draymond family?" His eyes flicked to hers, trying for casual, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. "I’ve heard some... rumors. Are they true?"

Livia’s smile held steady, but her gaze sharpened, a subtle glint of steel beneath the warmth. "That’s her life," she said evenly, measured. "And honestly? I care far more about whether she’s happy than whether rumors are true." She met his eyes squarely. "We should focus on us, Jason, not on what’s happening elsewhere."

Jason let out a short, awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Right. Yeah... of course." He stepped closer, lowering his voice into something intimate, careful. "Just... you and me."

He leaned in, pressing a light, fleeting kiss to her cheek—long enough to make her pulse skip.

Livia giggled softly, a low, airy sound that eased the tension, if only slightly. "Alright then," she said, brushing her hair back, a faint warmth rising in her cheeks. "Let me help you out a little."

The café returned to its rhythm. Orders were called, cups clinked, soft music hummed through the speakers. Customers came and went, weaving around the space, oblivious to the subtle tension lingering like sunlight caught in dust.

Then the bell rang again.

A woman entered, and the air seemed to shift. She was impeccably dressed, moving with quiet authority, her eyes scanning the café with sharp intent. They settled on Jason, holding there just a heartbeat too long, enough to make the atmosphere taut.

Livia felt it immediately. Jason did, too.

For a fleeting moment, the café’s rhythm fractured, subtle yet unmistakable.

"Hey!" the woman called, lifting a hand in a casual wave, her tone carrying a hint of familiarity and challenge.

Livia approached, keeping her smile neutral. "Hi—what can I get you?"

"I’ll have a caramel latte," the woman said smoothly, precise, almost rehearsed. "Hot. Extra foam. Light on the syrup."

Livia nodded, jotting it down, passing it to Jason. His eyes lingered on her longer than necessary, a flash of unease crossing his face. His posture stiffened ever so slightly.

"I’ll take care of this one," he said quickly, clipped. "You should take a break, Liv."

Livia frowned, lifting the cup carefully. "I’ll just serve it and then rest," she said, already moving toward the table.

The woman’s frown deepened. "This isn’t right," she said coolly, tilting the cup. "I ordered it hot. This is cold."

Livia blinked, startled. "It shouldn’t be—"

Before she could finish, the woman pushed the cup back sharply. The liquid sloshed over the edge. Livia gasped, flinching as the warmth brushed her fingers, a faint stain marking her dress.

"Oh... I’m sorry," the woman said, voice smooth but distant. "Go clean that up."

Livia drew in a steadying breath, forcing composure. "It’s okay. I’ll wash it off quickly," she said, gesturing toward the counter. "You can reorder there."

The woman’s lips curved just slightly, a half-smile that never reached her eyes. "Of course. Take your time."

Livia excused herself, heading toward the restroom, her footsteps quiet against the café floor.

As soon as she disappeared, the woman moved deliberately toward the counter. Heels clicked with metronomic precision. Jason tensed immediately.

"Nina," he muttered under his breath, low, almost pained. "You shouldn’t be here. You need to leave."

She stepped closer, crossing the invisible boundary between them. "Then maybe you should’ve answered my calls," she said, smooth but with a sharp undertone. "Or were you busy... with her?"

Her fingers brushed his chest lightly. Jason’s jaw tightened, but his hands betrayed him, moving to her waist, pulling her close for a fraction too long.

"I’ll talk to you later," he muttered, voice rougher than intended. "Go."

She smiled, leaning in, and he tilted his head, lips brushing near her ear, voice low, charged. "Not here."

His hands shifted, pressing her toward him—just as Livia’s soft footsteps returned. The restroom door clicked open.

They froze.

In an instant, Jason stepped back, rotating toward the counter, pretending to wipe it down. Nina retreated smoothly, arms crossed, posture casual but eyes sharp.

Livia emerged, dabbing the damp corner of her dress, unaware of the tension that had crackled between them moments ago.

"Hey, babe... you okay?" Jason’s voice was gentle, but rehearsed, each syllable measured, careful not to betray the spike of anxiety in his eyes.

Livia smiled faintly, shrugging lightly. "Yeah. I’m fine."

Nina stepped closer, voice too casual. "I’ll come by later. I’ve got somewhere to be. I’ll order then."

"Alright," Livia said warmly, masking the faint disquiet lingering in her chest. "See you again."

Nina’s gaze lingered on Jason for a brief half-second longer before she walked out, heels echoing softly, leaving a trace of unease behind.

Jason exhaled slowly, shoulders sagging fractionally. He stole a glance at the café door, then back at Livia. "Baby... I think you should head out now. I’ll close up and come home later."

Livia’s brow furrowed slightly, hesitation flickering across her face. "Why don’t we go together?"

He shook his head quickly, a little too quickly. "You’ve got your car, right? We’re out of a few ingredients—I need to stop by the market first. We’ll go together another day."

Her lips pressed together, hesitation lingering a moment longer, before a slow nod. "Okay... cool. Bye. See you. Take care."

Jason’s expression softened slightly, almost imperceptibly, but his voice stayed careful, measured, like walking a tightrope. "Text me when you get home," he said lightly.

"Yeah. Thanks," she replied with a faint smile. "You drive safe too."

Jason nodded, offering a smile that almost seemed natural, though Livia knew better. As the bell chimed behind her, she stepped out. A faint smile lingered as she walked backward, waving once more—

And then she collided with someone solid. Hard.

"Oh—who—hey!" she gasped, stumbling slightly.

"Oh—Ms. Serrano," he said, recognition flickering across his face.

It was Ryan—Cassian’s assistant, dressed casually in a dark hoodie, sleeves pushed up, faded jeans, and sneakers worn but neat. A leash looped around his wrist, attached to a calm medium-sized dog trotting beside him.

"Oh—you must be Ryan," Livia said, pulse calming slightly. "I’ve seen you with Cassian quite a few times."

Ryan straightened, hands tightening lightly on the leash. "Yes. Ryan Hale," he said carefully. "Mr. Draymond’s assistant."

"So... you live around here?" Livia asked, glancing at the quiet street, her intuition pricking at her.

"Somewhere nearby," he said.

He hesitated, eyes flicking toward her, then gestured lightly with his free hand. "Would you like to come over for a drink?"

She laughed softly, brushing it off. "Thanks, but I just stepped out of a café—and I’ve had enough for today."

Ryan’s gaze flicked toward the café, suspicion threading his eyes. "That’s Jason’s place, isn’t it?"

Her brows knit. "Oh... do you know Jason?" she asked, sensing weight in his words.

Ryan paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "Yes," he said carefully. "Something like that."

Livia smiled politely, a shield against questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Ryan," she said lightly, though a faint unease lingered. "I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other often."

Ryan’s eyes flicked to hers, calculating, hesitant. "You work here?" he asked, glancing at the café.

"No," she said with a soft laugh, masking the tension that tightened her chest. "The owner—Jason—we’re close. So... yes, I’m around a lot."

"Oh..." His expression tightened slightly, suspicion clear.

He exhaled slowly, voice low. "I know this might sound intrusive," he said carefully, "and you don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable—but could you tell me who exactly he is to you? What kind of relationship do you have with him?"

Livia felt a sudden pang, unease she hadn’t expected, but kept her smile calm. "No, it’s fine. He’s just the guy I’m dating. We started seeing each other recently." Her pulse thrummed with curiosity and caution. She tilted her head slightly. "Why do you ask?"

Ryan’s eyes widened, his composure cracking just slightly. A flicker of disbelief, worry, and something unspoken passed over his gaze.

"You... you’re dating Jason?" he asked, voice low, heavy, almost strangled with concern. His jaw tightened, eyes darting toward the café instinctively.