35. Gemma
Iwhip around, the papers clutched in my hand. Oliver stands in the doorway, his expression thunderous.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I try to hide the papers behind my back, but it’s too late. He’s seen them.
Oliver stalks towards me, grabbing my arm. “You nosy little bitch. I knew I couldn’t trust you.”
I try to wrench myself from his grasp, but his grip is like iron.
“Spilling that wine out there? Was no accident, was it?”
“Let me go!”
With his free hand, Oliver rips the papers from my hand. His lip curls as he scans the documents. “So you found these. Clever girl.”
I struggle, but he slams me back against the desk, knocking the wind out of me. I gasp for air as he pins me there, his face inches from mine.
“You won’t be telling anyone about these, my dear.” His breath is hot on my face. “Unless you want your brother’s company to go bankrupt. And now that you’ve seen the papers. I don’t think I have to remind you that it’s your name on each of these.”
I freeze. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, I would. So stay in your fucking line.”
I can’t move.
Suddenly, a voice calls out from the hallway. “Oliver? We need your input on something.”
“This isn’t over.” He pulls back and straightens his tie. “After you.”
Wetness pools in my eyes, and my limbs start to shake as Oliver drags me out by my arm. Outside the office, he locks the door and then gestures for me to walk in front of him.
I plaster on my cheerful facade as I rejoin the guests. All the while, I avoid meeting Oliver’s gaze. But I can feel his eyes boring into the side of my head like lasers as if he can set me aflame through will alone.
After what seems an eternity, the guests begin to bid their farewells. I maintain my cheerful facade, thanking them for coming and wishing them safe travels home.
By some miracle, I’ve managed to hide my terror.
“Oliver, you and your wife really outdid yourself with this event.” The last guest comes up to us. “We’re quite impressed.”
A tall, striking man with jet-black hair. He takes my hand in his and presses a soft kiss on the back of it. My eyes travel up the crisp lines of his tailored Italian suit with no tie to meet his intense gaze. It’s unsettling.
“Thank you. It was our pleasure to have you all here tonight, Mister?”
“Call me Jeremiah.” The man gives me a sly wink as he turns to Oliver. “Oliver. Thanks for the talk.”
“Likewise,” Oliver says.
With that, the stranger turns and leaves Oliver and me alone in the apartment.
“Finally.” He grasps my arm with bruising force, yanking me toward him. “If you ever go through my stuff again, you’ll regret it.”
I wince at the pain radiating from my arm. “I’m sorry. It was stupid.”
“What do you think you were doing?” He cages me against the wall, eyes blazing.
I shrink back. “I-I didn’t…”
“I-I,” he says mockingly and squeezes my arm harder. “Going through my office like a thief in the night. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”
“I didn’t intend to betray you.” I bite back a cry.
“Liar.” He slams me against the wall again.
The back of my head cracks against the unyielding surface.
“You’ve always been a terrible liar.”
“Please, you’re hurting me!” Panic floods my veins as I struggle earnestly. I have to get away. I have to escape. Please.
“This is but a taste of what’s to come if you cross me again.” He starts squeezing my throat so hard my vision starts to dim. “You’re lucky the evening went so well, or I’d start your punishment now.”
He leans in, his mouth inches apart from mine. “Or maybe…”
Out of nowhere, he moves in close and plants his disgusting lips on mine. I stand rigid, unresponsive, struggling for air.
The sound of the doorbell shifts Oliver’s attention, causing him to narrow his eyes at the door and release me. I gasp for air as he moves away, massaging my throat.
Oliver opens the door, and I hear the same smooth voice as before. It’s the stranger from earlier.
I don’t hesitate. Scrambling to my feet, not even bothering to fix my disheveled dress, I grab my purse and rush past Oliver and the dark-haired stranger through the open door. My heels click against the marble floors as I reach the elevators.
I slam my palm repeatedly against the call button, willing the doors to open to provide an escape from this prison of an apartment. The stranger’s smooth voice drifts down the hallway along with Oliver’s terse replies. My heart hammers.
The elevator finally arrives, and I hurry inside, punching the button for the lobby. As the doors start to close, a tall, broad-shouldered man steps forward, stopping them.
He studies me with amusement dancing in his bright blue eyes. “Going somewhere?”
“I-I’m sorry, I...” I glance behind me.
“It’s alright, darling. I’m waiting for my friend.” He leans against the elevator entrance, blocking the doors from closing.
Friend. I rub my sweaty palms on my dress. One of Oliver’s?
I edge toward the panel, preparing to jab the door close button.
“Ah, there you are,” the tall blonde man says.
The dark-haired stranger from earlier strides up, and both of them step into the elevator with me. Clutching my purse like a shield, I press myself into the corner.
As the elevator descends, I avoid meeting their gazes as they chat idly.
I scrub at my lips. They still burn from Oliver’s disgusting kiss.
With a soft chime, the doors open into the lobby, and I make a beeline for the exit. Risking a glance back, I see the two men standing in the elevator with their eyes locked on me.
I burst out of the revolving doors into the night, the cold air whipping through my hair. Frantically, I wave down a passing cab. It pulls to the curb, and I wrench open the door, collapsing into the back seat.
The cabbie glances at me in the rearview mirror. I rake a hand through my tangled hair, smoothing my dress with shaking fingers.
“Where to?”