Unveiled
‘Sense anything with Sophia Reinhoff?’ William scoffs. ‘The only thing I feel when in her presence is cold. You were careless. Taking Livy to Ice was a stupid move. Taking her to your home is beyond that. I bet she’s relishing in the knowledge that she can expose you, Hart.’
I cringe, feeling Miller look down at me. I know what’s coming. ‘Both Olivia and I have played our relationship down. I’ve only taken Livy to Ice when the club has been closed.’
‘And when she turned up without your prior knowledge, did you have her escorted out? Did you remove yourself from her vicinity to lessen the risk of association?’ There’s humour in William’s serious tone. I want to hide. ‘Well?’ he prompts, despite knowing damn well what the answer is.
‘No,’ Miller spits the word through a clenched jaw. ‘I realise my stupidity.’
‘So, what we have is a club full of people who witnessed various incidents involving the aloof, notoriously closed-off Miller Hart losing his rag with a beautiful young woman. Do you see where I’m heading with this?’
I roll my eyes at William’s unreasonable need to belittle Miller. I also feel a mountain of guilt settle on my shoulders. My obliviousness to the consequences of my actions and behaviour has accelerated the situation, pushed Miller into a corner.
‘It’s all being noted, Anderson.’ Miller sighs, seeking out my hair again and beginning to twist a lock. Silence falls. It’s an uncomfortable silence – one that’s just increasing my need to escape the study and leave these two men to continue their surmising of our diabolical situation alone.
It’s a long while before William eventually speaks, and when he does, I don’t like what he says. ‘You must have anticipated the repercussions of your resignation, Hart. You know that’s not your call to make.’
I curl into Miller’s side, as if making myself smaller and attempting to crawl inside of him might make our reality go away. Not much of my brain space has been dedicated to Miller’s invisible chains or the immoral bastards who hold the keys. The ghost of Gracie Taylor has monopolised my mind, and in a weird sense, now that seems so much more appealing than this. This really is reality, and hearing William’s voice, feeling Miller’s torment, and suddenly being consumed with defeat has flung me to the frontline of anxiety. I’m not wholly certain what will greet us in London when we arrive there, but I know it’s going to test me, test us, more than ever before.
The sensation of soft lips on my temple brings me back into the room. ‘I didn’t much care at the time,’ Miller admits.
‘Do you now?’ William’s question and the curt delivery clearly indicate there should be only one answer.
‘Now I care only about protecting Olivia.’
‘Good answer,’ William retorts sharply, and I look up at Miller, finding him lost in thought, gazing blankly across the study.
I hate that he appears so defeated. I’ve seen this look too many times, and it worries me more than anything. I feel blind, useless, and with no words of comfort to offer him, I reach up and slide my palm onto his neck, pulling him in tighter to me and pushing my face into the stubble on his throat. ‘I love you.’ My whispered declaration falls naturally from my mouth, like my instinct is telling me that a constant reinforcement of my love for him is all I have. Reluctantly, I silently acknowledge that it is.
William continues. ‘I can’t believe you were stupid enough to quit.’
Lean muscles go rigid beneath me in a heartbeat. ‘Stupid?’ Miller hisses, shifting me on his lap. I can practically feel his emotions heating through our naked contact. ‘Are you suggesting I should continue fucking other women when I’m involved with Olivia?’ His crass angle makes my face contort in disgust, as do the mental images of belts and—
Stop!
‘No.’ William doesn’t back off. ‘I’m suggesting you should never have touched what you can’t have. This will all go away if you do the right thing.’
The right thing. Leave me. Go back to London and be the Special One.
I can’t hold back the rage that embeds itself deeply within me as a result of William’s words, especially if he insists on being such an arsehole. ‘He can have me.’ My sass fights its way forward, and I wrestle with Miller’s hold, sitting myself up, getting as close to the phone as possible, just so he can hear me loud and clear. ‘Don’t you dare start with this again, William! Don’t make me stick a knife in and twist it!’
‘Olivia!’ Miller yanks me back to his chest, but my defiance injects strength into my slight frame and I bat him away, returning close to the phone. I can hear his exasperation loud and clear, not that it’ll stop me.
‘I know you’re not threatening violence, Olivia,’ William says with an edge of laughter in his tone.
‘Gracie Taylor.’ I say her name through clenched teeth and take no pleasure in the audible inhale of hurt breath that travels down the line. ‘Did I see her?’ I demand. Miller immediately pulls me back into his chest, and I start prying his hard grip from my limbs. ‘Was it her?’ I shout, sending my elbow shooting back into his ribs in my frenzy.
‘Fuck!’ Miller roars, losing his hold of me. I dive for the phone, trying to drink in some air in order to demand an answer, but Miller lunges forward and cuts the call before I get there.
‘What are you doing?’ I yell, fighting away his grappling hands as he tries to claim me.
He wins. I’m yanked into his body and my flailing arms are locked in a harsh hold. ‘Calm down!’