Unveiled (One Night #3)

I squeeze my eyes shut, mentally yelling at myself when Gracie is suddenly gone and the perfection of Miller before he left me in his dressing room replaces her. I can’t do this. I can’t sit here all night waiting for him to return. I’ll be certifiably crazy before the night’s over.

I jump up from the couch like it’s caught fire and hurry from Miller’s studio, being sure not to let my eyes catch sight of his paint table, knowing seeing myself spread on it won’t help. Neither will looking at the sofa in his lounge, or his bed, or the shower, or the fridge, or the kitchen floor . . .

‘Oh God!’ I reach up and tug a little at my hair in frustration as I turn in circles in the middle of the lounge, deliberating on where I should hide. The slight stabbing pain on my scalp only reminds me of Miller’s fingers knotted in my hair. I can’t escape.

Panic starts to attack me. I clench my eyes shut and start breathing deeply to calm my frantic heartbeats. I count to ten.

One.

All I can offer you is one night.

Two.

And I’m praying that you’ll give it to me.

Three.

I’ve told you, Livy. You fascinate me.

Four.

Are you ready to let me worship you, Olivia Taylor?

Five.

I’ll never do anything less than worship you. I’m never going to be a drunken fumble, Livy. Every time I take you, you’ll remember it. Each and every moment will be etched on that beautiful mind of yours forever. Every kiss. Every touch. Every word. Because that’s how it is for me.

Six.

This beautiful, pure girl has fallen in love with the big bad wolf.

Seven.

Never stop loving me.

Eight.

Accept me as I am, sweet girl. Because it’s so much better than what I was.

Nine.

You are my perfect, Olivia Taylor.

Ten.

I fucking love her! I love her. I love everything she stands for and I love how much she loves me. If any fucker tries to take her away from me, then I’ll fucking kill them. Slowly.

‘Stop!’ I dash to his room and seek out my clothes, throwing them on chaotically before snatching up my bag and pelting for the door. I start to dial Sylvie on my way, but my phone rings in my hand before I can call my friend.

Every instinct tells me to reject the call. There’s no name. Just a number. I recognise it, though. I pause at Miller’s front door, my hand on the handle, and connect the call. ‘Sophia,’ I breathe down the line, eliminating all caution from my tone.

‘I’m on my way to the airport,’ she says matter-of-factly, almost business-like.

‘And that would interest me because?’ It actually does interest me. She’s leaving the country? Good!

‘It will interest you, sweet girl, because Charlie has changed the plan. I need to leave before he finds out I’ve destroyed that footage and beats me beyond recognition.’

My hand shifts on the doorknob, my interest increasing, but now mixed with fear. She might have a resentful, nasty edge to her smooth voice, but she can’t hide the fear that’s lacing the edges of it. ‘Changed the plan how?’ My pulse is suddenly throbbing in my ears.

‘I heard him before I left. He’s not taking any chances with Miller. He can’t risk that jeopardising his deal.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Olivia . . .’ She pauses, like she’s reluctant to give me the information. My stomach performs a full spin, making me feel instantly sick. ‘He’s planning on drugging Miller and feeding him to that vile Russian woman.’

‘What!’ I drop the door handle, staggering back. ‘Oh God.’ I start shaking. He won’t be able to kill Charlie. That thought alone has sent my worry into panic, but the added knowledge of what that woman could do to him has just catapulted that panic into terror. She’ll undo everything he’s worked so hard to fix. It will be like that video happening all over again. My throat starts to close off on me. I can’t breathe.

‘Livy!’ Sophia shouts, snapping me from mental meltdown. ‘Two, zero, one, five. Remember that number. You also need to know that I destroyed the pistol. I have a flight to nowhere. Call William. You need to stop Miller before you lose him forever.’ She hangs up.

I drop my phone and stare blankly at the screen. Before I can give any amount of reasonable time to consider my next move, I’m on my way to the door, panic flaming.

I need William. I need to know where the Temple is. But first I try Miller, shouting my despair when it goes to voice mail, so I hang up and try again. And again. And again. ‘Answer the phone!’ I scream, smashing the call button for the lift. He doesn’t. It goes to voice mail yet again and I try to gulp down some air to talk, praying he’ll pick up the message before accepting a drink at the Temple.

‘Miller,’ I pant down the line as the doors begin to open. ‘Call me, please. I’ve—’ My tongue turns to lead in my mouth and my body stills when the inside of the lift comes into view. ‘No,’ I whisper, stepping back from the source of my fear. I should turn and run, but my muscles have seized and are ignoring my brain’s screaming commands. ‘No.’ I shake my head.

I could be looking in the mirror.

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