Page 33 of Oliver (The Golden Team #7)

Emery

I t was like a switch flipped.

I wasn’t scared—I was furious.

“You’re telling me this man helped orchestrate what happened to me. He disappeared. And now, after everyone says it’s over—he shows up and drops me a postcard?”

Oliver winced. “I wouldn’t call it a postcard.”

I grabbed the photo off the table. “We need to find him.”

“You don’t need to do anything,” he said firmly. “That’s my job.”

I stepped closer, voice low. “If he’s watching me, then I want him to see me living . I want him to see me building something, loving someone, raising a kid who’s not afraid to hug people with sticky syrup fingers.”

“I get that. I do,” Oliver said gently. “But we need to be smart.”

I exhaled hard. “So what now? What about my wedding?”

“We track him, we're still getting married, no one is going to stop that,” Oliver said. “River’s pulling surveillance. Beatrice is also coming here.”

I blinked. “Beatrice is coming?”

Oliver smirked. “She said, and I quote, ‘If anyone’s gonna mess with my favorite swimming champ turned fashion goddess, they’re gonna have to fight a firefighter.”

I actually laughed. Just once. But it helped.

Oliver took my hand. “Anthony Vale made one mistake.”

“What’s that?”

“He forgot who you are, and who loves you.”