‘Yes or no?’ I scream.
‘No!’
‘What’s happened since last night when you came back to bed?’
‘Too f**king much!’ He’s gone from my sight, slipping into the wardrobe. I go after him again and watch as he yanks on some shorts and a T-shirt. ‘You’re young. You’ll get over me.’ He’s refusing to look at me or acknowledge my words, the coward.
‘Do you want me to get over you?’
‘Yes, you deserve more than I can give. I told you from the start, Livy. I’m emotionally unavailable.’
‘And since then you’ve worshipped me and given me everything you’ve hidden from the world.’ I keep my eyes on empty blues, desperately trying to find something in them. ‘You’ve destroyed me.’
‘Don’t say that!’ he yells, guilt clear in his tone and expression. He knows it to be true. ‘I brought you back to life.’
‘Congratulations!’ I scream, outraged. ‘Yes! You did, but the moment I saw light and hope, you’ve cruelly slayed me.’
He recoils at my words that are nothing but truth, and with no worthy response, he passes me to escape his wrongs, ensuring no contact is made. ‘I have to go away.’
‘Where?’
‘Paris. I leave at noon.’
A sharp inhale of breath chokes me. The city of love? ‘You’re going with that woman, aren’t you?’ My heart is completely severed now, the thought of Miller, posh women, restraints, money, and gifts . . .
And all I can see is my mother’s beautiful, selfish face. My face. And now Miller’s face.
He will not do this to me! ‘I’ll get over you.’ I straighten my shoulders and watch as he halts at the sound of my even promise. ‘I’ll make sure of it.’
He slowly turns and gives me warning eyes. I couldn’t care less. ‘Don’t do anything stupid, Livy.’
‘You’ve just relinquished your right to make requests, so you’ll forgive me if I choose to ignore you.’ I barge past him, fully aware of what I’m doing and totally prepared to see my threat through.
‘Livy!’
‘Have a nice trip.’ I retrieve my damp dress and throw it on as I make my way through his apartment.
‘Livy, it’s not as easy as just stopping.’ He’s coming after me, the sound of his bare feet slapping on the marble floor behind me getting louder as I hurry to the door. He’s concerned now, my indirect promise spiking his possessive streak. He doesn’t want another man to taste me. ‘Livy!’ I feel him grab my arm, and I swing around, boiling with rage, finding the mask lifting slightly. But the smidgen of hope doesn’t stop me from lashing his cheek with my palm. His head snaps to the side and remains there while I attempt in vain to cool my temper.
‘Yes! You should have let me walk away from you!’ I fire with complete resoluteness. ‘You should have let me forget!’
His face slowly comes back to me. ‘I didn’t want you to remember me like that. I didn’t want you to hate me.’
I laugh, stunned by his selfish motives. He doesn’t care what anyone else thinks of him. But me? I’m different? ‘How honourable of you, but you’ve made a fatal mistake, Miller Hart.’
He looks wary as he drops his hold of me. ‘How?’
‘Because I hate you more now than I ever did when you made me one of your whores! Now you’re just a coward. Now you’re a quitter, a chicken!’ I gulp down some calming breaths, feeling ashamed of my desperate behaviour and begging. He knows how I feel, and I know how he feels, yet he’s the one walking away, when it’s me who would be taking the biggest leap of faith here. It’s me going against all of my rules and morals. It’s me taking on the mountain of flaws this man has. ‘I’ll never let you have me again,’ I vow. ‘Not ever.’ The grit in my tone is a surprise.
‘It’s undoubtedly a good thing,’ he barely whispers, taking another step away from me, like he’s concerned that if I’m within touching distance, he might contradict his words. ‘Be safe, Livy.’
The double meaning in his statement is an insult. ‘I’m safe now,’ I proclaim, turning my back on a man clearly torn and walking away from him for the last time ever.
My despair has vanished at his cowardly words and actions. I know how he feels. He knows how he feels – which makes him a weak, spineless coward.
Now all I want to do is hurt him. I want to take the most resilient part of him and destroy it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It’s past nine at night, and I’m wiped out by overflowing emotion, but my vengeful mind won’t allow me to sleep. I’m being spurred on, encouraged by resentment to stick the knife in and twist it continuously. Four missed calls from William haven’t helped my state of mind. If anything, it’s only encouraged me. I know without question that I’m about to prove him right once and for all. I’m my mother’s daughter.
I no longer have my Ice membership card, but it won’t stop me. Nothing will stop me. Bypassing the short queue, I present myself to the doorman, who performs a sigh of exasperation before granting me access without a word. I strut past him and head straight for one of the bars, taking in my surroundings, the music, the happy atmosphere. The music tonight seems dark, and playing right now is Faithless’s ‘Insomnia’. It’s purposeful. It’s apt.
‘Champagne,’ I order, resting my arse against the bar and gazing around at the blue glow engulfing Miller’s club. It’s rammed full of London’s elite, the usual masses of well-dressed revellers filling every available space, but despite the amount of people closing me in from every direction, I know the security cameras will be focused on me and me alone. Miller will have given Tony the heads-up, and I’ve no doubt the doorman has already advised Tony of my arrival.
‘Miss?’
I turn and accept the glass of champagne, ignoring the strawberry and downing it. Then I immediately demand another. I’m handed a fresh glass and, as I turn, I spot Tony striding across the dance floor in my direction. He looks fuming mad, and knowing what’s about to transpire, I disappear amid the sea of people, taking off towards the roof terrace.
As I make my way up the frosted glass steps, I glance over my shoulder and smile when I see Tony standing where I’ve just fled, looking around in confusion. He leans over the bar and speaks to the barman, who quickly shrugs before tending to a waiting customer. I see Tony bash his fist on the glass counter of the bar and swing around, scanning the club. Smug, I continue on my way until I round the corner and break the threshold of the giant glass wall, finding myself among a sea of people laughing, drinking and chatting, none of them taking a bit of notice of the stunning outlook.
I take a sip of my champagne and wait, and I don’t have to wait for long. I catch the eye of a guy across the terrace and smile coyly before slowly turning away from him to enjoy the view.
‘Alone?’
I leisurely pivot on my heels, coming face to face with him. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a white shirt. My eyes drag the entire length of his body until I’m at his face. It’s a handsome face – clean-shaven and fresh, and his short brown hair is longer on top, combed to the side.
‘You?’ I ask, relaxing in my pose and taking my glass to my lips.
He smiles a little and directs me to the edge of the terrace, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back. There are no internal sparks ricocheting around my body from his touch, but he’s a man and that’s all I need.
‘Danny.’ He leans down and pecks each of my cheeks. ‘You are?’
‘Livy.’ I glance up to the camera and smile as he takes his time introducing himself.
‘Pleasure to meet you, Livy,’ he says as he pulls away. ‘I love your dress.’
I’ve no doubt he loves it. It’s tight and short. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ His eyes sparkle.
We spend a short while chatting and I reciprocate when he smiles and laughs, finding it easy, but not because I’m attracted to him. It’s because I know cameras are focused on me from every direction, recording everything and saving it for Miller’s eyes once he’s returned from Paris.
‘Is there a protocol you like to follow?’
I struggle to prevent my brow from furrowing in confusion. ‘You mean whether I’d like you to take me for dinner or just take me to bed?’
He smirks. ‘I’m happy to do both.’
My confidence wavers momentarily, but I quickly rein it in. ‘We’ll call the strawberry dinner.’ I tip my flute and catch the fruit, making a point of chewing it slowly and swallowing even slower.
He follows suit and mimics my actions with a knowing smile. ‘It’s a stunning view.’ He tips his empty glass towards the open space beyond, and I follow his indication to look.
‘I agree,’ I muse, ‘but I can think of far better ways to spend the rest of the evening.’ My boldness should stun me, but it doesn’t. I’m on a mission – a dangerous mission. Miller isn’t the only one with a mask. This is too easy.
Turning my eyes back to Danny, my lips tip seductively and he moves in, slowly lowering his face to mine until our lips brush. In an attempt to maintain my cool confidence, I close my eyes and conjure up images of Miller. It’s weak and pathetic, but it’s the only way I’ll see through my cruel actions. Danny’s lips don’t help me achieve my objective; they feel and taste nothing like Miller’s, yet I don’t hold back. I let him kiss me, and I relish only in the knowledge of what this will do to the man I love – the man who I know loves me but is too much of a weak coward to fight for it.
‘My place,’ Danny mumbles against my lips, slipping his palm onto my bottom. I nod against him and he immediately takes my hand to start leading me from the terrace. Miller Hart has ignited a dormant recklessness. I’ve proven William right. I’m my mother’s daughter, and the realisation should send me into meltdown, but the only meltdown I predict is the cold reality of my life without Miller in it. He’s a massive mess of complications and challenges, yet I crave him and all of the obstacles that accompany him.
We take the stairs, me following Danny, until we hit the ground floor. He pushes his way through the crowd, eager to escape the roar of people and gain some privacy. But then he halts and stuns me by kissing me again, humming into my mouth on a sigh. ‘I might do that a few more times before we make it out of here,’ he says, gently pushing his groin into my stomach.
I don’t protest, mainly because I’m jumping all over the fact that there is a camera directly above us, so I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and let him have his way, my way of saying, Fine by me.
Dragging his body from mine, he reclaims my hand and leads on, stopping only a few more paces into his determined stride. But he doesn’t kiss me this time. ‘Excuse me,’ he says, trying to sidestep someone, only for them to move with him. I can’t see who it is. I don’t need to see who it is.
‘You’re not leaving with the girl.’ Tony’s gruff voice makes me sag behind Danny, but it also boosts my resolve.
Danny turns to look at me. ‘Ignore him,’ I say tightly, pushing into his back, encouraging him to move on.
‘Who is he?’
‘No one.’ I take over the lead, tugging a bemused Danny with me. Tony can’t stop me, and that will destroy Miller further.
‘Livy, quit the games.’ Tony’s annoyed growl pulls me to a stop.
‘Who said this is a game?’ I ask shortly.
‘Me.’ He steps forward, flicking warning eyes to a perplexed Danny, who’s since dropped my hand.
Danny laughs. ‘Okay, I don’t know what the craic is, but you can leave me out of it.’ He strides off, leaving Tony and me glaring at each other.
