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“And why am I not going to the cops instead? Why am I going…” she looks out the window, “I don’t even know where you are taking me,” she whimpers, “Are you taking me to…”
I shut her up by pulling her to myself to whisper in her ears, hoping she will fucking listen this time and shut the fuck up for real until we get to a place that is just the both of us.
“You can ask me all the questions you want when we are alone, but for now, shut up, please,” I say as I drink in her intoxicating scent.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I peel away from her, and she nods, shifting back to her side of the backseat, which is at the other end of it.
I just lost my wife, and here I am, craving the woman who is somehow responsible for her death.
I focus on folding the other sleeve of my dress shirt and try to compose myself.
I’m still so aware of her.
I would have thought all these years after the break-up would have fixed that. I have always found her desirable, but even now that she is my nemesis, I can’t seem to separate that feeling from what I should actually be feeling.
The car pulls into the front gate of my manor, or dark castle, as Riley likes to call it.
“This is where you get out,” I don’t have to meet his eyes, Cesare’s man nods and unfastens his seatbelt.
“I will let him know she is with you, as promised,” he alights, and I watch him make a call for someone to come pick him up.
“We are here. It’s safe,” I try to reassure her.
The gate opens, letting us into a narrow, dark driveway. As the blue lights come on to light the path, I can feel her sit up.
Anyone coming here for the first time reacts this way. Being surrounded by a lot of people bothers me, so I prefer to rely on modern technology for security and a few men for protection. I have more men surrounding the manor, so I have backup if needed.
Another gate opens, guiding us to the manor in the distance. The stairway leading to the main door has whiskey-goldlighting.
“This is your house?” She sits straighter, and from the corner of her eyes, I can see them spreading wide as she takes the building in.
It’s worth what I spent on it to see her react this way.
The car parks a little away from the house, and I’m the first to get out.
I walk to the stairs, Olivia scurrying behind me quietly. I like that she is coming at her own free will. She hurries so she catches up with me. I smile internally at her gapping as she takes in the manor every step of the way.
“Welcome,” I stop in front of the main door, which opens after checking us. “Someone will take you to your room, which is the guest room in my quarter. Eat, freshen up, and I will join you soon.” She nods, keeping all her questions for later, as told.
“Thank you,” she swallows.
We both fall into the quiet humming in the sitting area as my butler steps out in his uniform of a white shirt and navy-blue slacks, even though he hardly qualifies as a chef.
“Welcome, boss,” he bows briskly with his usual lighthearted tone and then smiles at Olivia. “Welcome, Olivia,” his warm blue eyes light up in excitement as he observes her.
“Thank you,” if she is surprised he knows her name, she doesn’t say. She is a smart girl. She can put two and two together.
Pedro was one of the people I called from the wedding hall after discussing with Cesare how it would be better to let the cops feel involved in the process.
“This is my butler,” I point at Pedro with a flick of my index finger, “I will be in my bedroom, take her to hers, and make sure she is settled in,” I stalk away, taking the row of stairs up to my quarters to freshen up and mentally prepare myself for what’s to come.
“She is in good hands,” Pedro nods at me, but I’m already walking into my quarter.
I rid myself of my shirt and pants, then stalk into my bathroom.
My thoughts resume as I step under my gold and brown shower. If it wasn’t Olivia who killed Barbara, who could it have been? What could the person’s motive have been? Was the person coming after me or Cesare?
