Unveiled
Page 86

‘For Olivia.’
He scowls at William, his lip curling. ‘Or because he’s your brother.’
‘No, because we are better men.’
I see William’s head cock to the side, and Miller looks at him thoughtfully for a few moments, clearly reading a look. ‘Where are my clothes?’ he spits, glancing around the room and striding over to the bed when he spots them. ‘Some privacy, please.’
‘Hart, we haven’t got time for you to start getting all fucking particular.’
‘Two minutes!’ he yells, yanking his shirt over his shoulders.
I wince and watch as William practically bites his tongue to stop himself retaliating. ‘You have one.’ He grabs Gracie’s arm and guides her from the room, slamming the door behind him.
Then I watch as the Miller Hart I know rapidly comes together with each piece of expensive clothing he pulls on. He yanks at his sleeves, straightens his tie, and fiddles with his collar, but it’s all done far faster than I’ve ever seen before, and though he’s restored, he’s not fully restored. The vacant look in his eyes is still lingering and I suspect it will be for a while.
When he’s done, I see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat before he casts his eyes upward to me. ‘Are you OK?’ he asks, looking down to my tummy. ‘Tell me you’re both OK.’
My palm meets my stomach without thought. ‘We’re fine,’ I assure him, earning a sharp nod of acknowledgement.
‘Excellent,’ he breathes, a huge amount of relief apparent through his formal reply. I know what he’s doing. He’s detaching himself, and I know why. He’ll be walking out of this house, oozing his usual aloofness and power, not prepared to let any one of the sinful bastards downstairs see any scrap of weakness. I’m more than happy to let him have that.
He approaches me and when he’s nearly touching my chest, he slides his hand onto my nape and massages firmly into my strung muscles. I don’t miss the slight wince when he finally registers my cut cheek. ‘I’m so incredibly in love with you, Olivia Taylor,’ he whispers hoarsely, letting his forehead fall delicately to mine. ‘I’m leaving this house my way, but once I’m out that door, I’m yours to do whatever the hell you want with me.’ His lips push firmly into my forehead, his hand squeezing my nape.
I know what he’s trying to tell me, but I don’t want to do whatever the hell I want with him. I just want him. I’d never enforce anything on him, not after everything he’s endured up to this point in his life. He’s free now, and I’m not about to slap conditions, demands, or restrictions on him. He can do whatever the hell he likes with me. I pull away and smile when I see his wayward curl back and misbehaving. I leave it exactly where it is. ‘I’m yours – no conditions attached.’
‘Jolly good, Miss Taylor.’ He nods agreeably and gives me another kiss, this time on the lips. ‘Not that you have any choice in the matter.’
I smile, and he winks. It’s beautiful, despite the abnormal darkness of his eyes. ‘Go,’ I prompt, pushing him away.
His lips tip a little as he takes backward steps, pulling at the lapels of his jacket until he turns and strides out of the room, leaving the door open for Gracie and William, who are waiting cautiously outside. Both look at Miller as he passes, like he’s been resurrected. He has. I smile a little on the inside as William follows Miller’s perfect form around the galleried landing, shaking his head on a little huff of laughter before he catches up with him and flanks him as he takes the stairs.
I follow on, not even flinching or objecting when I feel an arm settle around my shoulders. I look to see Gracie gazing down at me. ‘He’s going to be fine, Olivia.’
‘Of course he is.’ I smile and let her lead me down the stairs behind William as he escorts the Special One away from this sinister place, but as we get to the front hall, my contentment wavers. I see Charlie propped up against the wall outside his office. He’s beaten to a pulp, and when one of his men turns to us with a sneer on his face, my contentment slips away completely.
This isn’t over – not by a long shot.
I glance to William and Miller, but neither look fazed.
‘Evening.’ The gruff voice doesn’t come from William or Miller or any one of the mean slimeballs flanking Charlie.
Every set of eyes in the room divert to the doors, the atmosphere thickening further. There’s a beast of a man filling the doorway. Huge. He’s silver-haired, the skin of his face pitted. ‘You broke our deal, Charlie.’
The Russian.
I look to Gracie when she settles a shaky hand on my arm, seeing her eyes centred on the ominous being holding everyone’s attention.
The unease that creeps over Charlie and his men is visible. I can feel it.
‘I’m sure we can renegotiate, Vladimir.’ Charlie tries to laugh but it comes out more like a wheeze.
‘A deal is a deal.’ He smiles, just as he’s joined by an army of men, all suited, all as large as Vladimir and all focused on Charlie.
It’s quiet.
Charlie’s men step away from their boss, leaving him unprotected prey.
Then all hell breaks loose.
William yells and makes a grab for Miller, who’s now charging at Charlie, murder etched on every piece of his face. No one will stop him. All of Charlie’s men move farther away, clearing the path, giving Miller clear access to the immoral bastard.
I display no shock or worry. Not even when Miller lifts Charlie from his feet by his neck and slams him into the wall, so hard I think the plaster could have cracked behind him. Charlie is showing no fear or shock, his face straight, but that evil glint has disappeared. He expected this.
‘See this?’ Miller asks, his voice low and dripping with violence, running a finger along the scar on Charlie’s cheek, all the way down to the corner of his mouth. ‘I’m going to get them to complete this Chelsea smile before they kill you.’ He jerks Charlie against the wall, slamming him harder into the plaster. A loud clatter resonates around the hall when a picture jumps off the wall and hits the floor as a result of the vibrations. Yet I still don’t move a muscle and Charlie remains straight-faced, taking what Miller is giving. He has no fight in him. He’s defeated. ‘Slowly,’ Miller whispers.
‘I’ll see you in hell, Hart,’ Charlie sneers.
‘Been there.’ Miller slams him one last, extra powerful time for good measure before dropping his hold. The evil bastard slides down the wall, looking weak and pathetic, while Miller makes an extra-long, precise job of straightening out his suit. ‘As much as I’d love the pleasure of killing you myself, our Russian friend here is an expert.’ He steps forward, towering over Charlie’s slumped body, and draws a long, filthy-sounding cough. He stares at him for a brief moment before spitting what he’s collected in his mouth right in Charlie’s face. ‘And he’ll make sure there’s nothing left to identify. Goodbye, Charlie.’ He turns and strides out, keeping his eyes focused forward, ignoring all of the quiet observers, including me. ‘Make it painful,’ he says as he passes Vladimir.
The Russian smiles darkly. ‘With the greatest of pleasure.’
I’m suddenly on the move, courtesy of Gracie guiding me, looking over my shoulder as Charlie slips all over the floor, trying to get up. I feel nothing . . . until I find William and see him studying Charlie’s pathetic form. They both gaze at each other for a long, silent while. It’s William who breaks the connection when he eventually looks to Vladimir, nodding mildly. Sadly.