‘There is no you anymore, Olivia.’ His fingertips grip my chin and lift until I’m facing eyes full of determination. ‘There’s only us. We deal with this together.’

‘I feel like I know so much yet so little,’ I confess, my words broken and raspy. He’s shared so much with me, some voluntarily, some he was forced, but there are still so many blanks.

My perfect part-time gentleman inhales a weary breath and blinks slowly as he brings my hands to his mouth and pushes his lips to the back of each. ‘You possess every part of me, Olivia Taylor. For all of the wrongs I have done and all that I am yet to do, I’m asking for your mercy.’ His eyes sink into me beseechingly. I have forgiven him for all that I know, and I will forgive him for all that I don’t. The wrongs he has yet to do? ‘Only your love will see me through this hell.’

My bottom lip starts to quiver, the lump in my throat growing rapidly. ‘I’ll help you,’ I vow, flexing my hand in his grip until he releases me. I reach up, my movement a little disorientated, until I feel his rough cheek. ‘I trust you.’

He swallows hard and nods mildly. Determination slowly creeps onto his emotion-soaked face and into his telling eyes, bringing my detached, fraudulent gentleman back into the room. ‘Let me get you out of here.’ His body lifts fluidly to full height and he helps me to my feet. The change in position sends blood rushing to my head and I stagger a little. ‘Are you OK?’

‘I’m fine,’ I answer, swaying on the spot.

‘You’re right,’ Miller says matter-of-factly, like I should know exactly what he’s talking about. I can’t frown my confusion because all of my focus is being used to stop myself face-planting to the floor. ‘Alcohol doesn’t suit you.’ My nape is taken, along with my arm, and I’m led on wobbly legs to the couch in Miller’s office. ‘Sit,’ he orders, helping me down. He kneels before me and shakes his head as he reaches for my ruined waves. His fingers comb through what’s left of my hair, the pain clear on his handsome face. ‘Still beautiful,’ he murmurs.

I attempt a smile but struggle, knowing he’s devastated, and glance past him when his office door swings open. Tony stands there for a few moments, taking in the situation. He looks set to burst under pressure. Miller slowly stands and turns, sliding his hands into his trouser pockets. They just stare at each other, Tony silently assessing his boss and then me. I feel small and stupid under his watchful eyes and in an attempt to shy away and hide the result of my meltdown, I pull my hair from my face and use the tie on my wrist to secure it in a messy knot.

‘What’s the situation?’ Miller asks, reaching up to his shoulder and flinching a little.

‘The situation?’ Tony blurts on a sarcastic huff of laughter. ‘We have a fucking mess, son!’ He slams the door and stalks over to the drinks cabinet, quickly pouring a scotch and downing it. ‘I’ve a half-dead bloke out there and crowds of people wondering what the fuck just went down!’

‘Damage control?’ Miller asks, taking a shot of scotch himself.

Tony laughs again. ‘Do you have a time machine? Shit, Miller, what the fuck were you thinking?’

‘I wasn’t thinking,’ he spits, making me shrink into the couch, like the root cause of this mess might not be noticed if I make myself small. A flick of Tony’s stressed eyes in my direction confirms I’ve failed in my endeavour. My unreasonable need to hurt Miller has resulted in the bloodbath up in the club and it has confirmed Sophia’s suspicions about the true nature of our relationship. ‘No, you weren’t. Story of your life, son,’ Tony sighs. ‘You don’t go all ape-shit on a guy over a woman who’s a bit of fun!’ He reins in his exasperation and frowns, reaching forward to pull Miller’s shirt aside. ‘A puncture wound?’

Miller shrugs him off and places his glass down. I’m stunned when he actually tweaks its position before he starts to pull at his shirt. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘Did he have a knife?’

‘It’s nothing,’ Miller repeats slowly, leaving Tony tilting his bald head questioningly. ‘Has Sophia gone?’

‘Oh, she’s got her hooks in you deep, my boy. Don’t question her loyalty to Charlie. She’s his fucking wife!’

My teary eyes widen. Sophia’s Charlie’s wife? And she’s in love with Miller? Charlie holds the keys to Miller’s chains. Does he know Sophia’s in love with his Special One? I didn’t think this web of corruption could get any more tangled.

Tony attempts to gather himself, taking another drink and bracing his hands on the side of the cabinet, head dropped. ‘Our corrupt lives are fucking real, boy, and attached to our arses for as long as we breathe.’

‘It doesn’t have to be like that.’ Miller is quiet in his retort, almost uncertain of his own claim. It makes my stomach turn.

‘Wake up, son!’ Tony casts his empty glass aside and grabs the tops of Miller’s arms, making him wince, not that Tony acknowledges it. ‘We’ve been over this time and time again. Once you’re in this world, there’s no escaping. You don’t get to leave when it suits you. You’re in it for life or you don’t have a life at all!’

I cough on nothing as I absorb Tony’s frank clarification. Sophia said it, Miller confirmed it, and now Tony’s reinforcing it. ‘Just because he doesn’t want to fuck for money anymore?’ I pipe up, unable to hold back.




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