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I was so caught up with Olivia that I missed the answer right in front of me.
“That is who she was talking when you guys ambushed her…”
I don’t let his sentence complete as I swerve the car in the middle of the road and do a one-way drive, too fucking impatient to wait until the next U-Turn.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Liam protects his head as the fast move throws him to the side of the car, and I swerve again to dodge a moving vehicle that was about to slam into mine.
“Call the prison, we are paying her a visit.”
* * *
The prison guards can tell that I have no fucking time to waste, and they have us in the room with Ruth the instant we get there.
Ruth fucking Davis.
I will keep my resentment for later, right now though, I need her help, and she will have to fucking cooperate, or I will resort to torture. She will get no mercy from me.
“Speak,” I grit, dragging a seat close enough to the other side of the table to sit.
She looks calm but I see she is trembling. She pouts and then leans back, pulling her cuffed hands under the table.
Prison has ruffled her a bit, I see bruise marks on her lips and the corner of her eyes.
“Talk, otherwise, he’ll make you,” Liam drags his seat a little too close to her and sits. “We can help you, but you need to trust us, Ruth.” Ruth scowls at him, and he shrugs.
“I want to know who they are,” I tap on the table with my index finger, “I won’t ask again.”
She sits in silence for a minute, like she is weighing her options.
“If I talk, will you get me out of here?”
“Depends if I like what you say,” I shrug.
She considers this for a moment, then something in her attitude shifts.
“A man reached out to me… he was obsessed about ruining the Ferreris,” she breathes, “He gave me the laxative, and he had a particular obsession with Sofia Ferreri… he was very particular about her attending the wedding. I remember that clearly because I found that funny. I mean, why wouldn’t the bride’s sister be there up?”
“Who is he?” Liam asks softly, not wanting to push her too much.
“I don’t know his name,” she drops her voice.
“What does he look like?” Liam asks again.
“Scary, but nerdy at the same time…”
“Fucking Damien,” I spurt, and I’m up on my feet.
She continues, “He has a Russian accent, and his hair is…” I have what I need.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” I’m heading to the door, about to leave the measly-looking room.
“What about me?” she calls after me, “You said if I cooperated…”
“I know what I said,” I clip.
“We will meet again if your story checks out,” Liam stands, and I don’t miss the flirtatious delivery of his words. Does he have a thing for her?
I’m already onto my next move.
