Fated To Not Just One But Three novel Chapter 332

Chapter 332: If It Was Lennox

Olivia’s POV

I looked away, then forced myself to look back. My mind was restless... I wanted to interfere, but I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. "She deserves this," I muttered under my breath.

The next strike came lower, across the curve of Anita’s hip. She bit down on her lip, refusing to cry out, but the tremor in her arms made her whole body shake. The stone below her was wet with tears, and maybe more. My own vision blurred for a second. I blinked hard.

Lolita touched my arm, tentatively. "Olivia, please. Let’s just go back inside."

I shook her off. "No. I want to watch." From somewhere behind me, a familiar voice called my name. It was loud and commanding, pulling the attention of everyone in the courtyard.

Calvin.

"Olivia," he called again, and I felt the eyes of the guards stationed toward us, curiosity sharpening their faces. Calvin strode forward, all broad shoulders and rigid posture, the kind of presence that made you want to stand up straighter even if you hated him. He stopped just short of the whipping post, close enough that I could see the muscle ticking in his jaw.

"She’s had enough. Tomorrow she begins the new punishment," he declared, lifting a hand.

The guard obeyed at once, setting down the whip and untying Anita’s wrists. She collapsed to the ground, catching herself with shaking hands. Her back was a canvas of blood and raw welts.

No one moved. Not the guards. Not the servants watching with wide, hushed eyes. Not even me. I stood rooted, fighting the urge to rush to her side. Once, she had been my best friend.

Calvin’s gaze pinned me. "You want to say something?" he asked, voice low enough that only I could hear.

I didn’t. I didn’t want to say anything. But the words tumbled out anyway: "You should have asked me before punishing her. You know that, right?"

Calvin’s expression didn’t change. "She’s my prisoner, not yours."

I frowned, and my eyes dragged back to Anita. I noticed the way she hunched over, clutching her arms around herself, blood trickling down her spine. The old anger in me flickered, sputtered, then died under the weight of pity.

My feet moved before my brain could catch up. I stood beside Anita, careful not to touch her wounds. She was breathing hard, tears and snot smeared across her cheeks, but she didn’t look away.

Her lips twisted into something that was almost a smile. "Death is better than this, Olivia... tell him to just kill me."

My heart sank. I remembered the day Anita lied and I was punished, the cold satisfaction in her eyes when the guards led me away. I remembered the wedding night, how she fucked the triplets without listening to my cry of pain. I remembered the way she’d hurt me in different ways.

And now she was reduced to this.

I lifted my eyes toward the pack house, to the rows of windows where staff watched in silence. Did any of them pity her? Or did they see only justice being done? And what did they see when they looked at me—a monster who stood by while her former best friend was flogged without mercy?

Without saying a word, I watched the guards drag a blood-dripping, naked Anita away, and all I could do was harden my heart and watch her being taken away.

I turned to Calvin, my frown deepening. "You didn’t have to humiliate her like that," I said, my voice tighter than I meant.

Calvin finally raised his eyes. Calm, steady, unreadable. "Punishment is supposed to humiliate, Olivia."

I stepped closer, heat rising in my chest. "You should have asked me. Anita was—" My throat closed for a second. "She was mine to deal with."

His jaw flexed, but his voice stayed calm. "And you? What would you have done? Cried for her? Freed her? Given her mercy she doesn’t deserve?"

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