Chapter 90


    Oliver sighed, the weight of his world in his breath, "Then let me just be this way, okay?"


    Rowan, grinding his teeth in fury, was interrupted by Brandon''s timely arrival. "Rowan, you little


    snake. Believe me, I''ll skin you alive if I have to!"


    The formidable and furious Brandon stormed in, only to halt in his tracks at the sight of Josefina.


    The air around him shifted palpably.


    How could he let his future granddaughter-inw witness his violent tendencies? Absolutely not!


    Rowan, filled with a mix of grievance and defiance, protested, "Dad, you''ve got to see what Oliver


    did! He shot my hand! He''s a murderer. I''ll press charges. I''ll see him behind bars!"


    In a heartbeat, Brandon transformed into the picture of a gentle, benevolent grandfather, "Josie, are


    you here for Oliver? I''ll just take Rowan, the dumbass, out of here. You two chat."


    With a mere nce from Brandon, the two bodyguards who had followed him swiftly escorted


    Rowan away. Rowan roared, "Whose father are you? Whose side are you on? He''s a lunatic, so


    why do you side with him? You''ve got more than one grandson!"


    Brandon clenched his teeth, shooting Rowan a venomous re. He then turned back to face the


    stunned Josefina and broke into an amiable smile. "Josie, don’t worry yourself. I''ll lock Rowan away.


    By the time you join the family, you won''t have toy eyes on him or let him spoil your mood."


    Josefina began, "Brandon, I..."


    "Josie, just keep Oliverpany for now. I''ve got some things to handle." With another knowing


    look, Brandon and his entourage departed.


    Outside, tension crackled as George''s men kept their guns trained on Rowan''s allies. Neither side


    yielded, locked in a stalemate.


    Rowan was injured and unaided, not because his people wouldn''t, but because they dared not


    move.


    Brandon barked fiercely, "What are you all waiting for? Standing around like a bunch of statues! Get


    lost!"


    Rowan’s protectors scattered, knowing their boss was already taken and their presence there was


    futile.


    George, watching Rowan being led away, exhaled in relief.


    "George, head back too. Josie''s inside and she''s more useful than anyone else right now."


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    George nodded, "Understood."


    ...


    Once everyone had cleared out, the staff scurried in to tidy the mess. They brought a fresh jug of


    juice and a selection of pastries before quickly making themselves scarce.


    Josefina, taking in the now immacte living room and Oliver''s forlorn expression, felt as if she''d


    bothe at the wrong time and exactly at the right time.


    "Oliver, are you alright?" she asked gently.


    Oliver slowly lifted his gaze and moved closer, and suddenly, Josefina found herself beneath him on


    the couch, locked under his intense gaze.


    "Do I look alright to you?"


    Josefina averted her eyes from Oliver''s burning stare. "Please, get up first."


    Unmoved, Oliver persisted, "Do I look like a madman to you?"


    "No," she whispered. The Oliver she knew was no madman, not in the slightest.


    "I didn’t kill my mother," Oliver confessed, his eyesced with a hint of hurt, seeking understanding,


    perhaps fearing her judgment.


    Seeing Oliver''s cautious vulnerability stirred an inexplicable tenderness within Josefina. "I believe


    you," she said softly.


    Oliver''s face inched closer, and Josefina''s heart thrummed frantically against her chest.


    His lips, thin and precise, drew nearer, hovering just above hers…