"Clayton Bradford will be coming tonight," Mr. Hilton said while they were having lunch.  Olivia's temples scrunched into a frown. It was the first time she had heard the name. Mrs. Hilton dabbed her mouth with a napkin.  "Clayton is from one of the most prestigious families in the country. His father Grey Bradford is a wealthy businessman. His mother Lily Bradford owns a chain of hotels and restaurants worldwide. Clayton and Caroline were arranged to get married." "He's eighteen now," Mr. Hilton added, his voice carrying a note of pride. "Already running several of his family's businesses. But I heard he's trying to convince his father to join the military." Mr. Hilton turned to his wife. "Is it okay for him to meet Olivia?" Mrs. Hilton shrugged. "Why not? Olivia's going to be his wife anyway when she turns a rightful age." Olivia dropped her spoon. But her adoptive parents didn't seem to notice. She pushed her food around the plate, no longer hungry. "May I be excused?" she asked politely. Her adoptive mother lifted a hand, signaling she could leave and didn't even look at her. Olivia slowly made her way out of the dining area. When she was out of sight she dashed into her room. In the hallway, a deep voice called out, "Caroline!" She looked at the man and swore he was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. "I thought I would never see you again." The longing in his voice was evident when he pulled her into his arms. His chest was warm against her cheek, and she could hear his heart beating fast. This was how it felt to be held by someone who loved you, she thought. But the beautiful moment shattered when she lifted her face. Clayton's dark eyes met hers and his arms dropped away as if she burned him. The hate in his eyes was something she hadn't seen on anyone before. "I-I'm sorry," she whispered, looking down on the floor. Clayton's hands, which had held her so tenderly moments ago thinking she was Caroline, were now balled into fists at his sides. "Who are you?" he demanded. "Olivia," she answered softly. "The Hiltons adopted me from an orphanage." A harsh laugh escaped his throat "Caroline's been gone barely a year and they've already found someone to take her place?" "Look at me," He commanded. When she didn't, his hand caught her chin, forcing her face up. His touch wasn't gentle anymore. "You are crazy if you think you could ever replace her." He straightened his jacket and walked past her as if she were invisible. Olivia waited until his footsteps faded before she ran to her room-no, Caroline's room. Everything in it still belonged to her, the room, the clothes and shoes, and even Clayton, her future husband. - 14 years later. "CODE RED. CODE RED. DR. HILTON TO EMERGENCY." "Not now," Olivia whispered, pushing herself up, regret flash in her eyes as she eyed her coffee. She practically sprinted through the hallway in an unladylike manner that would make Mrs. Hilton faint in horror if she saw her. Slightly out of breath, the familiar chaos in the ER greeted her. "What do we have?" she called out to Nurse Jessy, whose face lit up in an instant at the sight of her. "Male patient. Estimated to be 20-25 years old. Motorcycle crash. He wasn't wearing a helmet when the accident happened and received a blow to the head." "May I see the CT scan results?" Nurse Jessy handed her the clipboard. Olivia briefly looked at the patient on the bed before shifting them back to the file in her hand. She flipped through the pages and shook her head. The results showed a fractured skull, with a portion of the skull pushed inward. "Prep OR 1," she commanded, surprising herself with how steady her voice sounded, considering this would be her first solo operation. Sure, the head neurosurgeon would be there, but she would be leading. Her hands started to shake a little, but she stilled them. This young man's life depended on her now. "I'll get the team ready," Nurse Jessy rushed to the door. A short while later,  Olivia had scrubbed in. She was standing at the operating table. Dr. Wilson, the expert neurosurgeon, was behind her, ensuring the operation flowed smoothly. "Stay focused. Remember, you're in control." She repeated Dr. Wilson's words in her head like a mantra. Olivia took a deep breath. She could hear everything-the sounds of the operating room, the beeping of monitors, and even her own heartbeat. She was hyper-aware of every detail. She was ready. "Let's begin." "Scalpel." The scrub nurse handed the instrument to her outstretched hand. This was it-the moment she had trained for. Olivia made the initial incision. She took a good look at the damaged area, and before she knew it, her hands moved like they had minds of their own. She forgot everything in the world; all that mattered to her was saving the patient. A few hours later,  Olivia felt as if a massive thorn had been removed from her chest when she heard the steady beeping of the heart monitor. The surgery was done. She had managed to save the man's life. Her shoulders sagged with relief as she stepped back from the operating table, letting the nurses begin their post-operation procedures. She scrubbed out before making her way out of the operating room. Around afternoon, Olivia had just returned from her break when she entered the hospital and noticed  the commotion in the lobby. She wondered if a celebrity had come to visit, something that often happened at the hospital.  "Olivia!" She stopped in her tracks. Deep, rich, and achingly familiar. It was a voice she hadn't heard in a long time. She turned slowly, and there he stood-Clayton Bradford in his military uniform. No longer the young man who stole her heart, 14 years wasn't enough to make her forget. His shoulders were broader, his stance confident. The years had carved away the softness of youth, leaving behind a jaw so perfect it might have been sculpted by the finest artist. There was now a small scar near his left eyebrow, but it didn't detract from his striking features. Instead, it seemed to add to his appeal. His hair, which used to be long, was now cut military-short, but his eyes-those penetrating eyes-were exactly as she remembered. "Clayton," she whispered, but she couldn't move. She couldn't stop staring. He cleared his throat and held out a bouquet of red and white roses. Her heart squeezed painfully as she took them. They were beautiful, but all she could think was that he had given them out of obligation because, probably, Mrs. Bradford had pestered him again. "Thank you," she mumbled, hating how her fingers trembled as they brushed against his. He reached into his uniform pocket and pulled out a cream-colored envelope. "Here. It's an invitation. For my birthday tomorrow." Olivia stared at the envelope. "Mom's been... persistent," Clayton continued, running a hand through his short hair. "She calls every day asking if I've invited you yet. Says it wouldn't be right to have the party without you there." "I see," she said. The bitterness in her voice surprised her. She remembered all those nights she'd cried herself to sleep, waiting for letters that never came, hoping for calls that were never made. "I should get back to work," she said, stepping back. "Thank you for the invitation. I'll... I'll check my schedule and see if I can attend." "Olivia..." He called her name as though he wanted to say something but then shut himself up again. "Dr. Hilton," she corrected him firmly. "It's Dr. Hilton now, Captain Bradford." She saw some emotion flash across his face, an emotion she still failed to name even after half a decade. "Right," he said stiffly. "Dr. Hilton. I apologize for taking up your time." He turned to leave, his back straight and rigid. Just before he reached the door, he paused. "I... I hope you can make it." Then he was gone, leaving her standing there with an armful of flowers and an invitation she wanted to tear to pieces. Clayton had turned from a young man to a respected Captain.  He subdued foreign nationals who had hijacked a commercial aircraft and piloted the plane when the pilot got injured, saving 400 passengers from plummeting to their deaths. He stopped a terrorist attack and saved an elderly man by protecting him with his body. Olivia remembered crying her eyes out that night, thinking he would die because of the extent of his injuries, but somehow he survived, and she thanked God every single day for it. He's now different from the Clayton Bradford she used to know, but one thing remained the same, he was still the man who made her heart unable to let go.

When Olivia arrived home after her long shift at the hospital, she was still grappling with whether to attend tomorrow's event. But upon entering her room, she realized it was no longer up for negotiation. Her adoptive mother had made sure she had no excuse not to attend. In her closet hung a stunning pink dress with a deep V-neckline and daring side cutouts that revealed just the right amount of skin. It was paired with gorgeous shoes in a matching color, featuring three-inch heels. Olivia could only sigh. She hated birthday parties, really hated them, ever since she was fourteen years old. But after a long day of work, an argument with her overbearing mother was the last thing on her mind. She hung up her doctor's coat and changed into a comfortable t-shirt and cotton shorts before dragging her feet to the dining room, where Mr. and Mrs. Hilton were already seated. The aroma of delicious food filled the air, but she barely had an appetite. She occupied her usual seat and helped herself to a small serving of grilled salmon. It used to be her favorite, but it tasted bland on her tongue. Mrs. Hilton's elegant brows arched as she looked at her. "Did you see what I left in your room?" Olivia kept her eyes fixed on her plate, counting the seconds before she had to answer. One... two... three... She looked up and responded with a smile. "Yes, I did." "The dress is beautiful, isn't it?" "It's lovely," Olivia agreed, just as she always did. It was easier this way. Agreeing to everything meant no arguments, no disappointed looks, and no hurt feelings. "You have no idea the trouble I went through to get that dress. It will look great on you tomorrow." Mrs. Hilton took a sip of her wine before adding, "Well, your father and I will be coming with you to the birthday party." The spoon Olivia was holding nearly slipped from her fingers. In the ten years she had lived with the Hiltons, they rarely attended social gatherings that weren't related to business or charity, especially birthdays, because they deemed 'they're beneath them.' This wasn't normal. They didn't just change their minds about social events, especially not ones they considered frivolous. Mr. Hilton, who had been quietly observing them, cleared his throat. For the very first time since Olivia sat down, he spoke, "Well, speaking of birthdays, you're already twenty-four. Isn't it time you got married?" Olivia felt her fingers go numb around her fork. "Your father is right," her adoptive mother agreed as she set down her wine glass. "You are old enough to settle down." But Olivia didn't want to get married. She'd rather die than trap someone in a loveless marriage and live a miserable life. She wanted to tell them that, but her throat closed up just when she thought she finally had the courage to speak. Olivia pulled herself together. "But Mom... the demands of my career are too high. Just today, I had to assist in three back-to-back surgeries. There will be more soon... My career needs my full attention." "There will always be patients, Olivia. Always another surgery, another emergency, another blah blah blah. But we won't be here forever," Mrs. Hilton added, pressing her lips into a thin, tight line. She knew exactly what words to say to make Olivia feel bad. "We don't need your opinion, Olivia," Mr. Hilton spoke in a chilling tone. "Once we say you'll get married, you'll get married! Your fate is in our hands." The utensils clinked on the table, and Mrs. Hilton turned to her husband. "I lost my appetite, Simon. Let's retire for the evening." Mr. Hilton nodded and abandoned his seat. The two walked out of the dining area. Olivia just watched until they disappeared behind the door; only then did she release the breath she had been holding. Olivia felt her appetite return once she was alone. She resumed eating as if nothing had happened. Despite all the unpleasant things that had happened to her today, she slept soundly that night. - The clock on her wall showed 6:15 PM, and Olivia felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Clayton's birthday party would start at 7. She had spent the last hour carefully styling her hair into soft waves that cascaded down her back-her mother's order, because she said she looked good in that. But Olivia knew better; that hairstyle made her look even more like Caroline. "Are you done yet?" Mrs. Hilton's voice sounded from the other side of the door. "Just a second!" Olivia applied the final touches of makeup, then stood in front of her full-length mirror and smiled-a smile that barely reached her eyes. She looked like she had stepped right out of a fashion magazine. The pink dress hugged her curves in just the right places, and the deep V-neckline looked daring but held a subtle elegance. Her makeup was flawless-smoky eyes that made her green and blue eyes pop, cheeks dusted with a rosy glow, and lips painted in bold scarlet. But no matter how good she looked, her eyes appeared dull-they were the eyes of someone who'd never had her freedom. "Hurry, we're leaving!" Olivia sighed. Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she followed Mr. and Mrs. Hilton to their sleek black Mercedes. The driver held the door open, and she slid into the back seat, careful not to wrinkle her dress. The drive to the Bradford Estate took thirty minutes. She wished it had taken longer so she had enough time to compose herself. The car pulled up to iron gates that opened automatically. A line of luxury vehicles stretched ahead-Bentleys, Rolls Royces, and other cars that could make anyone faint with their price. "Remember to smile," Mrs. Hilton said, checking her reflection in a compact mirror. "Mayor Thompson will be here tonight with his wife. I heard the Queen's nephew will also be attending." Olivia nodded absently. She knew the guest list would be filled with the city's elite. It was better not to stand out. The car came to a stop at the entrance. A valet opened their door, and they stepped out onto a red carpet. The grand foyer was already packed with guests. Olivia recognized a famous supermodel who'd just landed the cover of Vogue, chatting with some fashion designers. In another corner, a shipping billionaire was deep in conversation with the CEO of a tech company. She grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter and downed it in one go. It was going to be a long night. "Ladies and gentlemen, Captain Clayton Bradford, the birthday celebrant!"

The announcement echoed through the grand foyer, and Olivia's heart stuttered to a stop. The room fell into an expectant hush as Clayton Bradford descended the sweeping marble staircase. He moved with the easy confidence that made her breath stop. His tall, athletic frame was wrapped in an impeccably tailored black suit. Dashing. Dangerous. Gorgeous. Those words flashed in her mind as she looked at him. A waiter appeared with another tray of champagne. Olivia grabbed a glass, ignoring the disapproving look Mrs. Hilton shot her from across the room. She drank the champagne to ease her throat that had gone dry. The crowd burst into applause, and Clayton's lips curved into his signature smile, the one that had graced countless magazine covers. It was a smile that could charm and melt hearts. "Thank you all for coming..." His voice carried effortlessly across the room, deep and smooth like fine wine. Olivia took an involuntary step backward, and that's when she collided with a man's broad chest. She lost track of Clayton's speech when her eyes landed on a familiar pair of eyes. Caleb? She couldn't believe her eyes. It was really Caleb, the man she loved so deeply four years ago but he broke her heart when he ended their relationship all of a sudden. He disappeared after that without even saying goodbye. "O-Olivia?" He seemed surprised at first, but his eyelid lowered, a wave of strong emotion crossing his eyes. He stood in front of her, looking exactly like the boy who'd stolen her heart, just older. More handsome. His blonde hair still fell slightly into his eyes the way it used to, and his smile, that gentle smile, made nostalgic memories flash in her mind. "I've looked everywhere for you!" Caleb crossed the small distance between them and grabbed her hand tightly, like a drowning man clutching at a lifeline. " I thought about you every single day after we broke up. I thought I would never see you again." Olivia felt her head spin. She was lost and confused. She didn't know how to respond. "Caleb, I-" "Please," he cut in, "please just let me say this or else I would regret it until the day I die." His thumb traced circles on her palm, a gesture so achingly familiar it made her chest hurt. His next words came out in a rush, like he'd been holding them in for too long. "Breaking up with you four years ago was the biggest mistake of my life. The words I said back then are all a lie. I only did those because I was threatened." She couldn't tell if he's telling the truth. But the Caleb she knew is an honest person. "Then why...?" The question escaped her in a broken whisper. She still wanted to know the truth even after all these years. "Why did you lie to me? Why did you have to break my heart so severely?" "Mr. Hilton came to me. He told me if I didn't end things with you, he'd make sure I lost my career. I refused at first-God, Olivia, I refused because you meant everything to me." Caleb's voice cracked, and she could see the raw pain in his eyes, still fresh after all these years. "But when he said you'd lose everything because of me, that the Hiltons would cut you off if I didn't let go, that you'd end up hating me for destroying your future, I knew I had to let you go." "I worked hard, thinking maybe one day I'd be worthy of you. Now I'm the CEO of my own company. I have everything now-money, power, success. Everything they said I didn't have back then. Everything they said you deserved." He pulled her closer, his forehead resting against hers. The familiar scent of his cologne made her dizzy with memories. "This time, I swear I'll protect you. I won't let anyone tear us apart again. I don't care if I have to fight the whole world-I'll fight for you. Please tell me it's not too late." She swallowed the lump in her throat.  She felt her heart breaking. So it wasn't her fault why he left her. It was her  adoptive parents who manipulated the situation. She opened her mouth but before she could speak, a strong hand gripped her arm. She was yanked backward, away from Caleb's hold. Suddenly, she was staring into Clayton Bradford's dark eyes. His face was unreadable as he deliberately sank down to one knee. The motion was smooth, practiced, perfect. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. Inside was a diamond solitaire ring. "Olivia Hilton, will you marry me?" Olivia blankly stared at the diamond solitaire in Clayton's hand. Everything made sense now, like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. Her parents talking about marriage and their unexpected decision to attend a birthday party, all of it hadn't been random at all. They had planned this whole thing. Her throat felt tight, as if a hand were squeezing it. She couldn't think properly. Couldn't speak. Clayton kneeling on one knee, Caleb watching in shock behind her, the expectant guests, and her adoptive parents glaring because she was taking so long to answer-all hit her at once. She couldn't take the pressure, and she felt the room spin. "Olivia? Are you okay?" Clayton's face swam in and out of focus. He got up, his voice sounding far away, as if he were calling to her from underwater. She tried to draw in air, but her lungs wouldn't cooperate. "Olivia, oh my God, you're paperwhite!" Caleb's concerned voice reached her ears, but she couldn't bring herself to respond. She pressed her hands against her temples, trying to steady herself. But the faces around her blurred into indistinct shapes. It was all too much for her. The last thing she heard was the sound of hurried footsteps rushing in her direction. She fell into someone's arms before darkness closed in around her.