‘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.’

‘What!’ I drop the door handle, staggering back. ‘Oh God.’ I start shaking. He won’t be able to kill Charlie. That thought alone has sent my worry into panic, but the added knowledge of what that woman could do to him has just catapulted that panic into terror. She’ll undo everything he’s worked so hard to fix. It will be like that video happening all over again. My throat starts to close off on me. I can’t breathe.

‘Livy!’ Sophia shouts, snapping me from mental meltdown. ‘Two, zero, one, five. Remember that number. You also need to know that I destroyed the pistol. I have a flight to nowhere. Call William. You need to stop Miller before you lose him forever.’ She hangs up.

I drop my phone and stare blankly at the screen. Before I can give any amount of reasonable time to consider my next move, I’m on my way to the door, panic flaming.

I need William. I need to know where the Temple is. But first I try Miller, shouting my despair when it goes to voice mail, so I hang up and try again. And again. And again. ‘Answer the phone!’ I scream, smashing the call button for the lift. He doesn’t. It goes to voice mail yet again and I try to gulp down some air to talk, praying he’ll pick up the message before accepting a drink at the Temple.

‘Miller,’ I pant down the line as the doors begin to open. ‘Call me, please. I’ve—’ My tongue turns to lead in my mouth and my body stills when the inside of the lift comes into view. ‘No,’ I whisper, stepping back from the source of my fear. I should turn and run, but my muscles have seized and are ignoring my brain’s screaming commands. ‘No.’ I shake my head.

I could be looking in the mirror.

‘Olivia.’ My mother’s navy eyes widen a little. ‘Olivia, baby, what’s the matter?’

I’m not sure what’s telling her that there’s more to my shock than simply finding her in the lift. I back away.

‘Olivia, please. Don’t run from me.’

‘Go away,’ I whisper. ‘Please, just go.’ I don’t need this. I don’t need her. I have far more important things that need my attention – things that deserve my attention, need my attention. My resentment begins to build at the prospect of her delaying me. If time wasn’t of the essence, I’d attack her with the sass I inherited from her. But I don’t have time for her. Miller needs me. I turn and rush to the stairs.

‘Olivia!’

I ignore her desperate cries and barge through the door, taking the concrete stairs two at a time. The loud clicks of her heels on the stone rings out around me, telling me she’s in pursuit, but I have Converse on and they win over heels any day of the week, especially when you’re in a hurry. I pass floor after floor as I fumble with my phone, trying to dial William as I try to escape my mother.

‘Olivia!’ She’s shouting and obviously short of breath. This only motivates me to sprint faster. ‘I know you’re pregnant!’

‘He had no right to tell you,’ I seethe as I rush down the stairs, my fear and worry converting into unrelenting fury. It’s eating me from the inside out, and while I’m scaring myself with how fast it’s taking over my body, I silently appreciate that it will probably do me a favour once I’m away from this selfish, harlot of a bitch and I make it to Miller. I need some fire in my belly and she’s stoking it perfectly.

‘He told me everything. Where Miller is, what he’s doing, and why he’s doing it.’

I skid to a stop and turn, seeing her slump against a wall, exhausted, though her white trouser suit still looks pristine, as does her bouncing, glossy waves. My defences fly up like iron and I curse William and his betraying arse to hell and back. ‘Where is the Temple?’ I demand. ‘Tell me!’

‘Not so you can walk into that carnage,’ she says, looking adamant.

I bite down on my tongue, praying for some calm. ‘Tell me!’ I scream, my sanity running away with me. ‘You owe me this! Tell me!’

She winces, hurt, but I can’t find any compassion for her. ‘Don’t hate me. I had no choice, Olivia.’

‘Everyone has a choice!’

‘Did Miller?’

I recoil, disgusted.

She steps forward tentatively. ‘Does he have a choice now?’

‘Stop it.’