After hearing what was going on and what Landon wanted to do, Olivia felt compelled to help, to do everything within her power to give these women, women who had suffered a traumatic event at the hands of those who should have looked out for and protected them, a second chance.
“It’ll be okay, Libby,” Tyler comforted her. “You know Alex. He won’t stop until he gets Melanie back and makes the person who’s behind all of this suffer for the rest of his pathetic life.”
Olivia closed her eyes, Tyler’s words like a knife to her heart. He was right. Alexander wouldn’t stop until he had all the answers and found Melanie. She had a feeling she was the one who held the key to getting her back. She’d always done what she thought was right, constantly giving her time to causes she believed in. Now, she feared she would have to choose between saving one life and twelve, but that one life… She treasured it more than her own.
When footsteps rang out, Olivia released Tyler, both of them turning toward the door leading to the garage. Olivia’s heart caught in her throat when Alexander stepped into the kitchen, their eyes meeting. Feeling like a prisoner awaiting her sentence, she remained motionless as she stared at her husband.
Chewing on her bottom lip, she didn’t know what to expect from him. Disappointment. Anger. Frustration. Instead, there was something completely unanticipated etched in the lines of his face. Respect. Admiration. Understanding.
He strode toward her, his steps deliberate. His eyes cut into her soul, ripping her open, leaving her secrets bare for the world to see. Only he could read her fears, her regrets, her personal demons, assuring her with just one look that it was okay, that he would chase them away.
Pausing mere inches away from her, the heat from his body warming her skin, he locked his gaze with hers. Their chests rose and fell in near synchronicity. In an instant, his strong hands grasped her face and pulled her toward him, his lips crushing against hers.
Olivia stilled, caught off guard by the moment of sorrow-filled passion. Then she melted into the kiss, molding her body against his, allowing them to become one. The world disappeared around them. Nothing else mattered at that moment. Not the lies and secrets of their past. Not the troubles and heartache of their present. Not the uncertainty of their future. For that one brief sliver of time, all that mattered was the love they shared. In that one kiss, Olivia knew they would get through this. That their devotion would help navigate through the stormy waters, and the sun would eventually shine on them again.
Alexander pulled away and stared down at her, not saying a word.
“You know,” Olivia stated softly so no one could overhear.
Remaining mute, he folded Olivia’s hand in his and led her down the hallway and into his office, pulling her onto the leather sofa in front of the large windows. When her eyes caught the snow falling, the dread and unease she’d been able to chase away momentarily returned.
Facing her, Alexander ran his fingers across her knuckles. It comforted her, reminding her of their early days together when a simple touch like this would send shivers throughout her body. Despite the passing of years, his touch still had that spark.
“Maleek killed Mischa,” Alexander informed her.
She closed her eyes, allowing the truth of what she’d already assumed to wrap around her. The second he shared that he was an Afghan national, she knew he had killed Mischa.
“How do you know? Did Dave tell you?” she asked.
He narrowed his gaze at her, as if unsure how to respond. She could sense he was waiting for her to finally admit to what he already suspected, but she couldn’t…not yet. She needed more information first.
“There was a room in his basement,” he said in an unsteady voice, briefly closing his eyes. He bit his lip, and Olivia knew he had seen something he wished he hadn’t. “There was a chair with blood on it. In the corner was a bucket full of rocks. The FBI and local LEOs are probably still there, but I’m sure we’ll find a match to her blood type.”
Olivia covered her trembling chin. “Why?” She shook her head. “Why would he—”
He fished his cell phone out of his coat pocket and handed it to her. “He thought she knew where these women were and tortured her to make her talk.”
With shaky hands, she took the phone from him and began to scroll through images of a dozen women she had just visited. With each face, she recalled their unique story, reaffirming her belief that what she had done was right, was good, was necessary.
“All of these women lived at my company’s shelter in Afghanistan at one point or another. After the explosion, they disappeared,” Alexander explained when Olivia failed to show any signs she recognized them. “Landon came to see me several weeks before that.”
Olivia met his eyes, remaining silent. She knew the story. She was an unspoken part of it…until now.
“It was a week or so after the first attack on the shelter,” he continued. “He asked me to use my resources to help smuggle these women out of Afghanistan and establish new lives for them here in the States. He was convinced it was the only way they’d be free from their pasts.”
She dropped the phone onto the couch and grabbed his hand in hers, squeezing. She didn’t know if she could ever admit she went behind her husband’s back to help Landon when he wouldn’t.
“I refused, told him it wasn’t our place to interfere.”
“Landon never did like taking no for an answer, did he?” she commented, releasing her hold on his hand.
“He didn’t.” His eyes remained glued to hers. “When he believed in something, he would stop at nothing to see it through to the end.”
“Just like his sister,” Olivia added, narrowing her gaze at him, hoping he would understand.
“His sister…” He drew in a breath. “Of course.” Running his hand over his face, he turned to Olivia once more, looking at her in a way he never had before. “How…? I mean—”
“I only agreed to help with the financial side of it all,” she finally admitted. “Mischa told me about your conversation with Landon. When that didn’t go the way he hoped, he reached out to her. Her organization had clinics and aid workers in Afghanistan, but it didn’t have much in the way of funding. To arrange something of this magnitude would pretty much deplete their resources.”
“So they turned to you.”
She nodded. “She didn’t fill me in on the specifics, just that something else needed to be done. Up until that point, I was pretty clueless about what your company did over in Afghanistan anyway.”
“I didn’t tell—”
“You usually don’t talk about anything work-related with me.”