Married Before Midnight by Sienna Quinn - Chapter 29

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Married Before Midnight


Chapter 29: The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing


The evening air in Maplewood was thick with the scent of blooming jasmine as Olivia Carter sat at the family dinner table, her cheeks still warm from retelling the story of Mason Lee’s heroic intervention at Sweet Beginnings earlier that day.


The dining room buzzed with laughter and teasing—Hannah waggled her eyebrows, Charlotte mimed swooning, and even the twins, Lillian and Emily, giggled behind their hands. Only Lucas remained quiet, his sharp gaze fixed on Olivia as if trying to decipher something she herself didn’t yet understand. “Oh, come on,” Olivia protested, swatting at Hannah’s arm. “It wasn’t that dramatic. He just stepped in when those guys got aggressive.” “Uh-huh,” Charlotte drawled, twirling a strand of her dark hair. “And then he stayed to chat with you for how long after?” Olivia rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the flutter in her chest at the memory—the way Mason’s deep voice had softened when he asked about her baking, the way his fingers had brushed hers when he took his coffee. Across the table, Eleanor smiled knowingly. “He sounds like a gentleman.” Lucas set his fork down with a quiet clink. “Or a man who knows exactly what he’s doing.” The table fell silent. Olivia frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lucas hesitated, then shook his head. “Nothing. Just… be careful, Liv.” Before Olivia could press him, Emily piped up, “Maybe he’s secretly a prince in disguise!” The tension dissolved into laughter, but Lucas’s words lingered in Olivia’s mind like a shadow she couldn’t shake.


Meanwhile, in a dimly lit alley three blocks from Sweet Beginnings, Mason Lee counted out three crisp hundred-dollar bills and handed them to the same men who had “caused trouble” earlier that day. “Good work,” Mason said, his voice low. “You played your parts perfectly.” The tallest of the trio, a lanky man with a crooked nose, smirked. “Easy money. She bought it?” Mason’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Hook, line, and sinker.” As the men disappeared into the night, Mason exhaled, the weight of his deception momentarily lifting. He shoved his hands into his pockets and trudged toward his real home—not the polished image he’d presented to Olivia, but a dingy attic apartment above a laundromat. The narrow staircase groaned under his weight, the air inside thick with the stench of stale beer and unwashed laundry. He flicked on the single bare bulb, illuminating the chaos—empty liquor bottles, unpaid bills, and, most disturbingly, a wall covered in photographs of Olivia.


Candid shots of her laughing behind the bakery counter, walking through the park, even one of her through her bedroom window, the edges frayed from constant handling. Mason collapsed into a rickety chair and reached for the half-empty whiskey bottle on the floor. He took a long swig, the burn doing little to numb the gnawing desperation in his gut. $500,000. The number haunted him.


A debt built on bad bets and worse luck. He’d tried to outrun it, but the collectors were closing in, their threats turning violent. Then, he’d seen her—Olivia Carter, the golden girl of Maplewood, heir to Sweet Beginnings, and, if rumors were true, the key to a small fortune. He’d watched her for weeks, studying her routines, her kindness, her weaknesses. Tonight’s little performance had been phase one.


Mason traced a finger over a photo of Olivia’s smiling face. “You’re going to save me, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Whether you know it or not.”


Back at the Carter house, Olivia slipped into her pajamas, her mind still replaying the day’s events. She climbed into bed, but sleep eluded her. Instead, she found herself staring at the ceiling, wondering about the mysterious stranger who’d stepped into her life so suddenly. Was Lucas right? Should she be wary? But then she remembered the warmth in Mason’s eyes, the way he’d listened like every word she said mattered. No, she decided. Some people were just… good. Down the hall, Lucas stood at his window, staring out at the moonlit street. He’d seen men like Mason before—smooth talkers with hidden agendas. He just hoped Olivia would see the truth before it was too late.
 
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