‘My place,’ Danny mumbles against my lips, slipping his palm onto my bottom. I nod against him and he immediately takes my hand to start leading me from the terrace. Miller Hart has ignited a dormant recklessness. I’ve proven William right. I’m my mother’s daughter, and the realisation should send me into meltdown, but the only meltdown I predict is the cold reality of my life without Miller in it. He’s a massive mess of complications and challenges, yet I crave him and all of the obstacles that accompany him.
We take the stairs, me following Danny, until we hit the ground floor. He pushes his way through the crowd, eager to escape the roar of people and gain some privacy. But then he halts and stuns me by kissing me again, humming into my mouth on a sigh. ‘I might do that a few more times before we make it out of here,’ he says, gently pushing his groin into my stomach.
I don’t protest, mainly because I’m jumping all over the fact that there is a camera directly above us, so I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and let him have his way, my way of saying, Fine by me.
Dragging his body from mine, he reclaims my hand and leads on, stopping only a few more paces into his determined stride. But he doesn’t kiss me this time. ‘Excuse me,’ he says, trying to sidestep someone, only for them to move with him. I can’t see who it is. I don’t need to see who it is.
‘You’re not leaving with the girl.’ Tony’s gruff voice makes me sag behind Danny, but it also boosts my resolve.
Danny turns to look at me. ‘Ignore him,’ I say tightly, pushing into his back, encouraging him to move on.
‘Who is he?’
‘No one.’ I take over the lead, tugging a bemused Danny with me. Tony can’t stop me, and that will destroy Miller further.
‘Livy, quit the games.’ Tony’s annoyed growl pulls me to a stop.
‘Who said this is a game?’ I ask shortly.
‘Me.’ He steps forward, flicking warning eyes to a perplexed Danny, who’s since dropped my hand.
Danny laughs. ‘Okay, I don’t know what the craic is, but you can leave me out of it.’ He strides off, leaving Tony and me glaring at each other.
‘Smart guy.’
‘Why do you care?’
‘I don’t.’
‘Then why bother intervening?’
‘Because you’ll get yourself in trouble.’
‘I’ll find someone else,’ I spit, barging past him, my legs like jelly as I make my way back to the bar. ‘Champagne,’ I demand, once I’ve fought my way to the front. Tony appears in front of me on the other side of the bar, shooing away the barman who was set to serve me.
‘You’re not being served any more alcohol.’
My teeth grit. ‘Why don’t you mind your own business?’
He leans over the bar, his own teeth grating. ‘If you realised the damage you’re doing, you’d cut the shit, sweetheart.’
Me? Damage? My temper flares into dangerous territory. If I was operating on resentment before, then now it’s in pure, raw rage. ‘That man has destroyed me!’
‘That man is shackled, Livy!’ he yells, making me recoil. ‘And regardless of what you and he ever thought, you can’t free him.’
‘From what?’ I don’t like the resolve in Tony’s tone or the look on his round face. He sounds too certain.
‘From the invisible chains.’ He speaks in a near whisper, but I hear the words perfectly over the deafening music and crowds. My throat starts to close off. I can’t breathe. Tony is watching me absorb his statement, probably wondering what I’m making of it. I don’t know. He’s talking in code. He’s insinuating that Miller is powerless – a weak man. That’s not true. He’s very powerful, physically and mentally. I’ve experienced both.
I remain silent, mind spinning, body shaking, unsure of my next move. I feel distressed and in the dark, my damn eyes beginning to sting with the onset of hopeless tears.
‘Go home, Livy. Get on with your life and forget you ever met Miller Hart.’
‘Impossible,’ I sob, my face quickly drenched as I lose the battle to retain my grief.
Tony’s body deflates through the mist of water clouding my vision, and he’s suddenly gone, but my body won’t kick into action, leaving me standing at the bar, lost and useless.
‘Come with me.’ I feel a hand gently take my arm and guide me away from the busy bar, through the club, and down the stairs to the maze beneath Ice. Tony’s information, albeit vague and cryptic, indicates this isn’t Miller’s decision.
I stagger and trip in front of Tony, almost disorientated, and when we arrive at the door to Miller’s office, he punches in the code, swings the door open, and guides me to Miller’s desk. He places me carefully in the chair. ‘I don’t want to be here,’ I murmur pitifully, blanking out the comfort I gain from being in one of Miller’s perfectly precise spaces. ‘Why did you bring me here?’ He should have put me in a taxi and sent me home.
Tony shuts the door and turns to face me. ‘There’s something on the desk for you,’ he says with zero enthusiasm, and I can tell it’s because he doesn’t want me to have whatever it is. I cast my eyes across the glossy white surface, seeing the cordless phone in its usual spot, and in the centre of the desk is an envelope, placed so accurately, the bottom flush with the edge of the desk, only Miller could have put it there.
Instinct makes me sink into the leather of his chair, putting distance between the harmless piece of paper and me. I’m cautious and certain that I’m not going to want to read what’s contained inside. ‘From him?’ I ask, not removing my eyes from the envelope.