We’re both way past stunned.
Charlie chucks my mother a look that would turn iron to ashes. ‘You slut. It wasn’t good enough that you had ten men a week. You had to have my brother.’
‘You forced them on me,’ she shrieks. ‘You made me write the fucking details!’
‘You lied to me!’ Charlie fumes. For the first time since he steamrolled his way through that door, I see frightening anger flashing across his face. ‘You played me for a fool, Gracie, baby.’ He gets up close and personal with my mother, and my trepidation multiplies when she recoils cautiously and William moves in quickly and places himself in front of her.
‘Don’t make me kill you, Charlie.’
‘You just couldn’t keep your hands off her,’ he rages, pulling at the sleeves of his suit jacket. The action reminds me of Miller, and I suddenly find life, pushing my back from the wall that I’ve been propped up against all this time. I need to find him.
I dash for the door.
‘And where are you going, lovely niece?’
My strides falters, his icy breath hitting my back. But I don’t stop. ‘I’m going to find Miller.’
‘I don’t think so,’ he declares confidently, making me halt at the door. ‘That would be most unwise.’
I slowly turn, finding him way too close for comfort. Not for long, though. William takes my arm and pulls me away from his imposing frame. ‘Don’t even breathe on her,’ William says, taking Gracie in his other grasp and tugging us both to his side. ‘My girls. Both of them.’
Charlie laughs. ‘I think amid this touching family reunion, you’ve forgotten a minor detail, dear brother.’ He leans forward. ‘I can get you and the pretty boy locked up for life with one call to a delivery boy.’ He smirks. ‘The gun that killed our uncle, Will. I have it and guess whose fingerprints are all over it?’
‘You bastard!’
‘He doesn’t have the gun,’ I blurt, suddenly lucid. I remove myself from William and ignore Gracie’s worried tone calling me back. I shake off William, too, when he makes a play for my arm. ‘Leave me.’
‘Olivia,’ William warns, making a grab for me again.
‘No.’ I shake him off and step forward, my bravery accelerating just from the look of utter contempt being lobbed at me from Charlie. This evil arsehole is my uncle. It might be a slight improvement on Dad, but it still makes me want to take a shower. ‘Your wife has left you.’
He scoffs, genuinely amused by my news. ‘She wouldn’t dare.’
‘She’s on a plane.’
‘Rubbish.’
‘Escaping you.’
‘Never.’
‘But before she boarded, she shared something with Miller.’ I go on, getting a thrill from the slight falter of his malevolent smirk. ‘There is no footage of Miller killing one of your men.’ I speak evenly, now hearing Sophia’s words before she hung up crisp and clear. ‘Because she destroyed it.’
His faltering magnifies.
This immoral bastard has crawled through life on the back of manipulation. Resentment has eaten him alive for years. This evil bastard is on his way to hell and I hope one of the two men I love helps him get there. ‘Gracie didn’t love you. And neither does Sophia.’
‘I said, shut up!’ He’s beginning to shake, but my fear has fallen away along with my twisted mind.
‘She got rid of the gun, too. You have nothing!’ I’m suddenly flying back and am pinned to a wall, Charlie’s hand around my throat.
I hear screaming, but it’s not mine. It’s Gracie. ‘Don’t touch her!’
Charlie’s face is up close to mine, his body pressing me into the wall. I gulp repeatedly, trying to breathe. ‘You pathetic little slut,’ he growls, ‘just like your mother.’ His breath is crawling across my stunned face.
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.