Unveiled
Page 84

Only for a split second, though, because his body is suddenly catapulting backwards and William slams him to the ground in one swift motion. I watch in horror as all hell breaks loose.
I don’t need to see or hear what happens next. I have a good idea, and finding Miller is my only purpose now. All of this sickness, the web of lies and deceit, it’s played too big a part in both of our lives. It ends now.
I steam through the middle of them all, hearing repeated cracks – which I conclude very quickly to be William’s fist meeting Charlie’s face – followed by torrents of shouted curses. They’re on their own. I’m wasting no more time being subjected to the horrors of their fucked-up lives. I’ve been forced to endure far too much already, and I’m about to pull Miller from Charlie’s corrupt clutches. I break free of the study, leaving behind a commotion of epic proportions, and rush towards the sounds of chatter and laughter. I thought I had all the facts. I thought I had the story. I’ve been mentally processing it all for nothing. Now I have a new version, the updated version, and I hate it more than the original.
I follow my feet to a massive lounge and immediately find myself lost amid a sea of posh gowns and tuxedos, the women holding champagne glasses, the men sipping from tumblers. The money in this room would be enough to blow my mind if it wasn’t focused on finding Miller. My eyes dart everywhere, scanning the faces of people, desperately searching for him. I don’t see him. Anywhere. My legs kick into action, weaving me through the throngs of people. I catch a few eyes, make a few frown, but most are totally indulged in their company and fine drinks. A waiter passes me with a tray full of champagne flutes, and although I clearly make him pull up on a creased brow, he still offers me the tray.
‘No,’ I dismiss him rudely, continuing to scan the vast space, shouting my frustration when I still fail to find him.
‘Olivia, baby?’ A warm palm meets my arm, and I flinch, flying around violently. I find my mum scanning me with worried eyes.
‘Where is he?’ I shout, drawing a million eyes in my direction. ‘I need to find him!’ My panic blankets my determination and my emotions take hold, making my body shake and my eyes flood with tears of dread. I’ve been stalled too long. I might be too late.
‘Shhh,’ she hushes me like a baby, and pulls my unresponsive body into her side, stroking my hair.
There’s only a tiny piece of me allowing myself to register the immense comfort I’m feeling from her warmth surrounding me. It’s confusing and bizarre, but so needed. It defies everything, yet feels so right. From my hiding place in the crook of her neck, I feel her head moving around, and I know it’s because she’s looking for Miller, too.
‘Help me,’ I whisper pitifully, crumbling under the trauma. ‘Please, Mum.’
She stops moving and I feel her heart pick up its pace under my palm resting on her chest. She pulls me from her embrace and spends a few moments drinking in every little piece of my face, finishing at my eyes. I just gaze at sapphires that match mine and let her wipe away the tears trickling down my cheeks. ‘We’ll find him, baby,’ she promises, closing her watery eyes and pushing her lips to my forehead. ‘We’ll find your love.’
She starts to pull me through the crowd, not caring to be polite or considerate. ‘Move,’ she orders, making dozens of people jump back, wary. As my feet scurry to keep up with her, I hear the hushed whispers of the people we’re leaving behind, and I definitely register the shocked mention of my mother’s name from more than one person. It’s not only me who feels like she’s returned from the dead.
We make it into the huge entrance hall, but Gracie stops, and I watch as she casts her eyes around the area. She doesn’t know where to head next.
‘He’s in the Dolby Suite.’ Tony’s voice comes from nowhere and I turn to see him holding out a key to me. But my heart plummets. My lungs shut down. He’s in a bedroom.
I snatch the key and fly up the stairs like a bullet before I can catch my breath, frantic and shouting his name. ‘Miller!’ I scream, rounding the landing. ‘Miller!’ I clock the gold plaque on the door stating the dolby suite and fumble to get the key in the lock before crashing through the door like a wrecking ball. The sound of the wood hitting the wall behind it echoes through the entire house, virtually making it shake. My eyes are wild as they dart around the enormous suite, and my hysterical mind is blitzed by panic, not allowing any further instructions to filter through as I stand on the threshold.
Then I see him.
And my heart shatters into a million fragments of devastation.
He’s naked, blindfolded, his arms bound to gold rings protruding from the fancy wallpaper. I’m arrested by shock. His chin is dropped to his chest, and it stays that way as I heave and shake on the spot, screaming to myself to go to him. He hasn’t moved a muscle. I swallow down my choked sob when I realise I’m too late and let out a scream of frustration, only then noticing a tall blonde woman with a whip in hand prowling towards me.
‘How dare you interrupt!’ she yells, lashing the whip. The tip catches my cheek, and I recoil, immediately feeling blood trickling down the side of my face. My hand flies to my cheek, my body staggering back in shock. My eyes are pulling, wanting to check on Miller, but her malevolence keeps my wary attention. It’s potent and gushing from her like a tidal wave. ‘You’re interrupting,’ she snarls, a tinge of an accent in her tone. Russian. ‘Leave!’
There is not a chance in hell I’m leaving him. I see red. ‘You can’t have him!’ I scream, deranged, recoiling when she snaps the whip again. My anger is dominating every fibre of my being, sending my initial fear crashing and burning to the shiny wooden floor.
I scan the room for anything remotely damaging to arm myself with, catching a glimpse of metal on the bed. Miller’s belt. I dart over and yank it from his trousers, flying around erratically. I tense everywhere, that red mist thickening, blinding me, as I prepare to strike.
‘You little bitch. What do you think you’re going to do?’ She stalks closer, whip twitching, completely unfazed by my threat.
‘He belongs to me.’ I grit my teeth, desperately fighting to hold my poise. I won’t be whole until I’m out of here and Miller is safely in my arms.
Her lip is curling ferociously, not that it has any impact on the wall of fury taking over me. I find my own lip curling in response, my eyes daring her to come at me. I can see him in my peripheral vision, still hanging lifelessly from the wall. It jerks my anger. My skin tingles from the rampant fury fizzing in my veins, and before I can even contemplate my actions, my arm is flying forward, sending the belt buckle sailing through the air. I don’t wait to see where it connects, but her yelp of pain tells me it has. I race over to Miller and lift my hand to his cheek, brushing across his stubble softly. He mumbles some incoherent words and nuzzles sleepily into my palm. His actions and the popping of fireworks under my skin spur me to reach for his restraints. I start to calmly unravel his hands from the fetters.
‘Get away from him!’ She’s suddenly beside me, grabbing at Miller’s arm, staking her claim. He flinches on a heart-breaking whimper.
I can’t bear the sound.
I tear around, livid, swinging my hand out without stopping to aim. ‘Don’t touch him!’ I scream, the back of my hand colliding with her face on an ear-piercing slap. She staggers back, disorientated, and I take advantage of her stumble, throwing my palms into her chest to push her farther away from Miller. My Miller.