Chapter 5
Olivia's POV
The set lights were blindingly harsh. I'd just finished filming an emotional scene, sweat beading on my forehead. The scene required Elena's anguish after discovering her friend's death—I was practically reliving the pain of losing Emma.
DAMN it, every time I think of that little angel, my heart feels torn apart.
"Cut! Perfect!" Director Martin nodded with satisfaction. "Olivia, your emotional range is incredible. Fifteen-minute break."
I collapsed into my chair, wiping tears from my eyes with the back of my hand. My assistant immediately brought towels and water. Just then, commotion erupted at the set entrance.
"Mr. Ryan's here!"
I looked up to see Ryan walking in wearing a charcoal casual suit, carrying an elegant insulated bag. Sunlight streamed behind him, making him look like a leading man stepped out of a movie. His pace was unhurried, but his gaze locked directly onto me.
Why is he here? And what's he carrying?
"Hey, beautiful." Ryan approached with a warm smile, the curve of his lips making hearts race. "Heard you've been working hard today, so I brought your favorite lunch."
He opened the insulated bag, revealing signature dishes from that expensive French restaurant in Beverly Hills—black truffle pasta and Caesar salad. The aroma instantly wafted out, making my stomach growl.
"How did you know I love this?" I was somewhat surprised. In my past life, after three years together, he never remembered my preferences.
"Observation." Ryan shrugged, his eyes flashing with satisfaction. "Last time at the café, your eyes lit up when you saw another table order this dish."
I see. This man is more attentive than I imagined.
Just as we were about to eat lunch, giggles suddenly echoed across the set.
"Uncle! This flower crown is so pretty!"
A little girl about three years old came stumbling over. She wore a pink dress, golden curls shining in the sunlight, azure eyes filled with innocent joy.
My heart instantly constricted—I nearly fell from my chair. Emma... if Emma were still alive, she'd be about this age...
"This is little Angel," the assistant director explained. "There's a children's commercial shooting here today. She's a child star."
The moment Ryan saw the little girl, his entire expression softened. He set down his utensils, crouched down, and looked at Angel tenderly.
"Hi, little princess. Where's this flower crown you mentioned?"
Angel pointed toward the props table where an exquisite daisy crown sat.
"I want that one, but mommy says I can't take other people's things." Angel pouted, those blue eyes beneath long lashes filled with longing.
Ryan glanced at me, then strode toward the prop master without hesitation.
"Hey, buddy, how much for this crown? I want to buy it."
"This? About twenty bucks, but it's just a prop..."
Ryan pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, wearing an irrefutable smile. "Keep the change."
He returned with the crown, carefully placing it on Angel's head.
"Beautiful princesses should have the most beautiful crowns." Ryan's eyes held special warmth, that glow making my heart beat irregularly.
Angel jumped with joy, clapping her little hands. "Thank you, uncle! You're the best uncle in the whole world!"
Watching this scene, tears finally spilled down my cheeks. That tenderness, that patience, that genuine kindness...
Ryan in my past life never showed such paternal warmth toward Emma. He was always busy with work, rarely played with her. But now, he's so gentle with a stranger's child...
Ryan noticed my reaction. He quickly returned, brow furrowed with concern. "What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?"
"No," I hastily wiped away tears, forcing a smile. "I just... you really love children."
"Children are the world's purest beings, deserving all tenderness." Ryan's voice was somewhat hoarse, gaze distant. "They're so small, so innocent, they shouldn't suffer any harm."
Looking at his profound expression, warmth flooded my heart. Maybe, if we were really together, he'd be a good father.
"Ryan..."
"Break time's over!" Director Martin's voice interrupted our conversation.
All afternoon, I couldn't concentrate. Ryan's tenderness toward Angel deeply moved me, reminding me of dear Emma from my past life. That hope of loss and recovery sprouted in my heart.
After evening filming wrapped, I went straight to private investigator Johnson's office. This small downtown office was dimly lit with mountains of files stacked everywhere.
"You need to see these results..." Johnson's expression was unusually serious, fine sweat beading on his forehead.
He handed me a DNA test report. Seeing the results, I nearly lost my footing, fingers trembling.
"What? Chloe isn't actually Robert's biological daughter?"
"Exactly." Johnson nodded gravely. "DNA match is only 12%—completely impossible for a father-daughter relationship. This means..."
This explains why Chloe's been so jealous of me since childhood. She's afraid of the truth being discovered, afraid of losing the Martinez family's protection.
"There's more explosive news." Johnson handed me another thick file. "About your stepmother Victoria's true identity."
I opened the file, the contents making me gasp, hands shaking.
"Her real name is Victoria Kowalski, from a small Missouri town. Twenty years ago she was wanted for fraud, then changed her identity and fled to Los Angeles."
"Also," Johnson pointed to another page, his tone growing more serious, "she used to be a third-rate stripper, working in nightclubs. Later she hooked up with a wealthy businessman, but when he went bankrupt, he dumped her."
I see. No wonder she's so greedy, so desperate for money and status. That hypocritical BITCH!
"Most importantly, this." Johnson produced the final document, face grim. "Evidence of your financial fraud. Over the past three years, Victoria embezzled over five million dollars from you through various schemes."
Looking at those transfer records and forged signatures, my fury exploded instantly, fists clenched tight.
"That DAMN bitch!"
"And your father Robert." Johnson's tone grew even more serious, anger flashing in his eyes. "He was deeply involved in these fraudulent activities. Some investment projects were complete shell companies—your money's gone."
Robert... I knew that greedy old man wouldn't be innocent.
I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. My past life self was too naive, letting them manipulate me. But this time...
"Johnson, I need you to continue investigating. I want more evidence—enough to put them ALL in prison." My voice was cold as a blade.
"No problem. But Olivia, be careful. These people are ruthless. If they discover you're investigating them..."
"I know." I stood up, eyes filled with determined fury. "But this time, I won't let them succeed."