Chapter 14 Willow #2
Troy told me about the party when I was still in captivity at his house in the middle of nowhere.
It was supposed to be our first outing together as a married couple.
The first public appearance he was going to make with me as his wife.
He took great pleasure in telling me that I would be expected to attend and make a good showing, and I can only be glad that it worked in my favor now.
Because it got me in the door.
My men and I walk across the rooftop, cutting our way through little clusters of mingling guests. I can feel people watching us, their gazes sliding from me to the three brothers. Whispers start up around us as we move, and I can pick up a few of them as we go.
Not everyone recognizes me, especially with my hair a different color, but the guys stand out, even dressed up. They just don’t have the look of people who belong with this crowd, and it shows.
But we came here with a purpose, so we ignore them for the most part.
Olivia is easy to spot, wearing a silver dress and standing near the bar. She’s talking to an older man, a glass in her hand, but once the man drifts away to speak to someone else, she glances to one side—and her eyes lock with mine.
Her head jerks slightly. Several emotions pass over her face, and I can tell she’s surprised to see me. Then her eyes flick toward the guys, and her carefully crafted mask cracks for just a moment.
Disdain and hatred cross her features, showing how truly ugly she is.
But then she gets herself together, smoothing her face back into that expression of neutral politeness that seems to disarm people and win them over.
She pulls out her phone from a tiny clutch in her hands and raises it to her ear, keeping her locked on us the same way someone might watch a pack of wild dogs.
“Let’s go,” Malice murmurs, and I nod.
We make a beeline toward her, and Olivia returns the phone to her clutch after a moment as her gaze runs over me. If she has an opinion about my outfit, she doesn’t say anything as we reach her. Instead, she glances past the men as if she expects someone else to be there.
“Where is Troy?” she asks. “And what are you doing here?”
“I was invited,” I reply coolly, ignoring the question about Troy for now. We’ll get to that, eventually.
“I know that. But your little band of criminals weren’t.” Olivia’s tone turns icy as she adds, “You’re making a mistake, Willow. You’re a fool to keep dragging them into this. I thought you claimed to care about them.”
“I do,” I shoot back.
“Then you should let them go. Bringing them here, constantly hanging around them? It could so easily destroy their lives.”
It’s so clearly a threat, and Malice reacts to it, stepping forward a little. Fury radiates from him, and even though he doesn’t make a move to hit Olivia or even get close enough to hurt her, it’s obvious that he wants to.
“Willow didn’t drag us into anything,” he snaps. “We’d stand by her side no matter fucking what.”
Olivia looks at him with a cool expression, her gray hair glinting in the light as she tips her head slightly to one side, her eyes narrowing.
“You should have learned your lesson,” she says.
“You were meant to be a lap dog, and dogs who don’t obey get put down.
” She never raises her voice, but there’s something in her tone that makes a shiver run down my spine.
“I thought someone would’ve taught you that lesson while you were in prison, but clearly it didn’t stick.
When you get sent back, I’ll make sure you become someone’s bitch. ”
It’s a shockingly crude thing to say, and seems at odds with her refined outfit and the way she’s holding herself. The words lash out like a whip, and protective fury fills me in a rush.
I step forward, putting myself between her and Malice, poisonous words gathering at the tip of my tongue. But before I can say anything, there’s a commotion behind us.
I turn my head in time to see several cops making their way in, pushing their way past the guests and coming toward us. My pulse jumps, even though we were expecting this too.
Olivia must’ve called them. That’s who she was on the phone with.
The other guests have all abandoned their conversations and are watching as the police make their way across the rooftop. We have an audience now, and I can feel my pulse in my throat as my entire body prickles with nerves.
Olivia looks smug, lifting a hand to gesture them over to us as if they weren’t already headed our way.
“Did you call us out, Mrs. Stanton?” one of the officers asks.
She nods. “Yes, officer, I did. I believe there are warrants out for the arrests of all three of these men.” She gestures to them, her eyes glittering.
“I just wanted to do my civic duty and inform you that they were here. And I didn’t know what they were planning to do, showing up at a party like this where they clearly don’t belong. ”
The cops exchange looks and then glance at the three brothers.
“Names?” one of them asks the men, and all three of them give their names.
I watch in silence, doing my best to keep from grabbing them and making a mad dash for the elevator.
We’ve been on the run for so long, and this is bringing up vivid memories of that night at the bar we went to, when Malice was nearly arrested and we only escaped because a fight broke out and gave us cover.
The impulse to create some sort of diversion so that we can flee again is almost impossible to push down, but I do my best to school my features, not letting my fear show on my face.
“I’ll have to call it in, ma’am,” the cop who seems to be taking the lead says, glancing at Olivia.
“Whatever you have to do,” she replies with a fluttering wave of her hand.
At least they’re planning to check on the truth of her claim before they put cuffs on the guys. That’s something.
It’s a tense few minutes as one cop makes the call. A low buzz of murmured conversation springs up around us again, although I can still feel people cutting glances our way, curious about what’s going on.
Then, finally, the cop comes back over, reaffixing his radio to the belt at his waist.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. It seems there’s been some confusion,” he says, jerking his chin toward the brothers. “There was a warrant out for their arrest. But it’s been recalled.”
There’s no change at all in Olivia’s expression for two or three heartbeats as she processes that information. Then shock registers on her face, her jaw falling open.
I let out a breath, my lungs burning from holding it for too long.
That’s right, you fucking bitch. You don’t win this round.