The relief that attacks me when he slowly turns has my hand darting out to steady myself on the unit. He walks away slowly, the hurt building with each step he takes. I’m missing him already and he’s not even left the room yet. The urge to scream for him to stop nearly gets the better of me, and my feet are shifting beneath me, willing me to chase him down.
Be strong, Olivia!
Tears pinch the backs of my eyes and my heart slowly beats its way up to my throat. I’m in agony.
He stops at the door.
I hold my breath.
And I hear him draw his. ‘Never stop loving me, Olivia Taylor.’
He disappears.
My strength drains from my body and I crumple to the ground, but I don’t cry. Not until I hear the front door close. Then it all comes pouring from me like a waterfall. My back finds the unit, my knees meet my chest, and my head meets my knees, my arms wrapping around me, making myself as small as possible.
I cry.
For what seems like forever.
Tonight really is going to be the longest night of my life.
Chapter 23
An hour later, I’m on Miller’s squidgy couch after trying his bed, the lounge, the kitchen. The detailed cornice circling the ceiling is imprinted on my mind and I’ve relived every moment since I’ve met Miller. Everything. I’m smiling to myself each time I’ve pictured any one of Miller’s spellbinding traits, but then I’m cursing aloud when the image of Gracie Taylor intrudes on my attempts to distract myself. She doesn’t have a place in my thoughts or my life, so just the mere fact that she’s taking up any scrap of my thinking space is infuriating me. I haven’t the time or the energy to wallow in the added turmoil she could spike. She’s undeserving of any heartache I could allow myself to feel. She’s selfish. I hate her, except now I have a clear image – a face etched on my mind to hate.
I toss my body over on the couch, so I’m now staring out across the London skyline, and I’m wondering if my mind is purposely sending me down this line of thought. Am I subconsciously distracting myself from thinking about what’s happening right now? Is this anger better than the wretchedness I’m certain to feel if I allow my brain to focus on what Miller is doing right now?
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.’