Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Olivia’s POV

"Who sent it?" I asked, staring at the white envelope in Lolita’s hand.

My name—Olivia Parker—was written in bold, dark letters on the front.

"I have no idea," she replied. "The guards at the gate said a courier brought it. Didn’t say who sent it."

I frowned, turning the envelope over in my hands.

Who would send me something like this? And why now?

But I didn’t waste time guessing. My fingers moved quickly, tearing it open.

Inside was a single piece of paper.

No design. No signature. No return address.

Just one sentence written in red ink across the center:

"Meet me tonight at 10 p.m. on the mansion rooftop."

My frown deepened.