I smile. Yes, quite the party, for quite the family. If only she knew what I’m planning. But, I remind myself, it doesn’t matter. Today isn’t about spreading what I know. It is about handling it. “Oh, yes, Mr. and Mrs. Locke spared no expense. It sounds like our luck did little for either of us, then. I’ve been dealing with a lot, too, but today will be better.” I shrug one shoulder, trying to appear happier than I feel. I suspect Jo can see straight through it. “Who doesn’t love a party? Hopefully it’s a good day for the both of us.”
Jo turns to face me, and there’s a look in her eyes I can’t quite place. I suspect, if there’s anyone I can confide in at this party, it’s her. Should I consider it? “Hopefully. Liv, have you seen Ms. Locke?” She lets out a little laugh, and I’m drawn from my thoughts. I can’t change the course I’ve set into motion now. I can’t tell her anything. “Cathrine, that is.”
“She was in the kitchen earlier,” I recall, as my gaze bounces around the room. “But…I don’t remember seeing her in the last few minutes. I’m sorry.” I let out a laugh, trying to keep the conversation light. “At least she let you in the gate this time, right?”
Jo purses her lips with a little smile, still scanning the crowd. “Figures. This time—I’d rather be anywhere else.” I’m surprised by her words. The last time we spoke, she seemed to want so badly to be in Orrick’s inner circle. What changed? Perhaps she’s finally seen who they really are, too. Jo wrings her hands together and shakes her head.
I take a sip from my glass, thinking of how much has changed in my own life since I saw her last. “I know, trust me. Things look different from outside the gate, don’t they? I hope you get out, too, Jo, for what it’s worth.”
“Thanks, Liv. I better go find Cathrine now.” She turns to me as I do to her, and we exchange sad and knowing glances one more time. I can’t explain it, but I think we both know this will be the last time we see each other. I wish her well. One of us should get a happy ending.
“Goodbye, Jo. I won’t wish you luck this time, but I hope you find what you’re looking for here. Take care of yourself.” I drain the last of my glass, feeling more determined than ever as I look for the waiter with more champagne.
Jo’s chest heaves, and she gives a nod and a warm, yet still-empty smile. “Bye, Liv.” She strides back into the foyer, and I turn around to head back to the kitchen. If I’m going to go through with what I have planned, I need much more alcohol.
Chapter Forty-Five
Mia
When I return with two glasses of champagne, I find Orrick in the family room with a group of white-haired men. I pause, taking my time as I make my way toward him, appreciative of all the eyes landing on me. Before I reach him, Orrick has noticed their distraction and turns to see what they’re looking at. His eyes find me as well.
I hold one of the glasses out to him. “Orrick, would you mind if I talked to you? Upstairs?”
He hesitates, inhaling sharply. “Uh, Olivia, I’m not sure it’s the best time—”
“It’ll only take a second,” I insist, my cheeks pink from my third glass of champagne.
“Go on, Locke,” one of the men encourages him, a tickle in his voice. “We can catch up later.”
He smiles at them, but I can tell he doesn’t want to join me in front of them. Still, he crosses the room, takes the champagne from my outstretched hand, and leads me into the foyer and up the stairs. I watch for Iris, but she’s nowhere to be found, though I make deliberate eye contact with a redheaded older woman who watches me closely. Seeing us walking up the stairs, she turns and heads into the sitting room. Perfect. We reach the top floor and Orrick opens the study door, ushering me inside. He turns to face the door as he shuts it, and downs the glass of champagne with two gulps, his shoulders rising and falling with a deep breath before he spins back around to face me. “What can I do for you, Olivi—Mia?”
I set my champagne flute on the table against the wall, and he copies me. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. I hate the way we left things. I’ve wanted to call and check in, but I didn’t know if I should.”
He huffs out a breath. “No, I just, we’re fine, but I needed time. Space.” He storms to the far side of the room and grabs the decanter of scotch, pouring himself a glass and downing it as well. He’s stressed. I lift my champagne glass from the table and walk toward him, stopping his hand as he reaches for more hard liquor.
“Here.” I hand him my glass. “You should pace yourself.”
He seems wary, but swallows the rest of my champagne with a grimace. “What do you want, Mia?”
“Have you had a chance to talk to Iris?”
He winces. “I can’t do this right now, okay? This isn’t the time nor the place. I have a house full of really important people, and the last thing I need is to be up here with you.”
I step back, feigning disappointment. “I’m sorry. I should just go.” I hang my head.
He pauses, and for a moment, I wonder if he’ll take the bait. To my relief, he does. “No, no. I want you to stay, Mia. I do. I still want the three of us to talk through our options, okay? I’m sorry I freaked out, but what you told me, it really hurt. It hurt that you lied, it hurt that Iris lied…I just needed time to process, and when I process, I like to do it alone. You’re…distracting.” His eyes flick down over the cleavage this dress proudly shows off and, in that moment, I’m sure I still have him where I want him.
“I understand,” I whisper, running my finger across his forearm so it folds, his hand on my waist without much prompting. I bat my eyes at him. “I’m sorry I hurt you. Honestly, I never wanted to do that.” I run my hands along the sides of his face, my wrists near his mouth.
The look in his eyes gets drunk and dizzy from my scent. “I know you have to go back downstairs—” His grip tightens on my waist, and I step into his embrace, my waist pressed into his pelvis. “I just wanted you to know I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” he whispers.
I press up on the tips of my toes, lifting my lips to his cautiously. He’s frozen in place, not moving closer to me, but he doesn’t stop me, either. My mouth grazes his, softly at first, then more fiercely. I flick my tongue across his lips until they open, pushing into him more as my hands grasp his neck.
Both of his hands find my waist, as if he has no control over his body at all. I push him against the wall and run my hand down the front of him, grasping at the lump in his pants.
I love the power I have over this man.
He groans under his breath, his head banging back on the wall without a care. “We probably don’t have time, but I’ve really missed this,” I say in his ear, my voice low and throaty as I stroke him carefully through his pants.
His hand lifts to my shoulder, putting pressure there, and I see the fire in his eyes. He wants me. Despite everything that’s happened, he still wants me. I lick my lips, softly and slowly, my eyes locked with his.
Each movement is steady and deliberate as I lower one knee to the ground, then the other, running my hands over him as I go. His smile grows wicked as he pulls at his belt buckle, patches of red flaring up over his neck as he pulls himself free. I look him over, pretending to want this. Pretending to want him.
In the past, I’ve been able to fake it so much better than I am right now, when the pressure is all on me.
“Go on,” he whispers, placing his hand on the back of my head. He’s going to shove himself into my mouth, I’m sure of it, which was what I wanted when I came up here. Not this, exactly, but him. Him to want me again. I needed to make sure I still held this power. “Please, Mia.” His head falls back against the wall again, only this time, I hear another noise from behind me as someone stops in front of the study door.
“Orrick?” Iris’ voice carries through the wood of the door as she pushes it open. “Are you in here?”
Orrick’s eyes go wide with fear, and he steps away, shoving himself into his pants, but I remain steady on my knees. Iris walks in, her
jaw dropping as she looks at me on the floor kneeling beside her husband with his untucked shirt and unbuttoned pants. When she steps in further, I realize there are two couples with her, both of whom look just as shocked as she does. Her shock quickly turns to rage.
“Are you kidding me?” she screams, arms at her waist.
“I can explain, Iris. This isn’t what it looks like,” he says, finishing buttoning his pants. Damage done, I stand, too. One of the women there is the redhead I made eye contact with while going up the stairs. She glares at me but has no idea she’s played right into my hand.
“I think it’s exactly what it looks like,” she screams, pointing at me. “How dare you? How dare you?” Her face flushes crimson, and she’s either furious or a great actress. Maybe a bit of both.
The white-haired woman in the doorway turns to the redhead. “We should go, dear. Let’s give them some privacy.” With nothing else said, the four turn away and scurry down the stairs as quickly as their arthritic hips can move. Orrick crosses the room toward Iris, and I follow his lead, keeping a safe distance as her eyes dart between the two of us.
“Party’s over, people,” I hear one of the men say, and it’s all I can do not to smile.
Iris crosses her arms, glaring at her husband. “You couldn’t even wait until our party was over, could you? You knew people would want to see the house. Betsy’s been dying to see your study since we redid the floors. You don’t even have enough respect for me to wait until our guests have left before you bring her upstairs.”
“What? You mean like the respect you had for me when you told me John was my son?” Orrick shoves a finger into his chest, and from the look on Iris’ face, I think it’s the first time he’s brought it up.
The shock is evident in her expression. “I—Orrick, I have no idea—”
“Yeah, save your breath. I know it’s true, and I know you’ve been having an affair with AJ. Just like you’ve had all the affairs at work. Constantly making me fire people, and then you want to lecture me on respect. Trust me, Iris, no one thinks we’re the perfect couple, you’ve made sure of that.” He’s screaming now, their voices carrying out the open door, but neither of them seem to care.
“It’s a two-way street, Orrick. This,” she gestures toward me, then him, “was not the answer to that. Sleeping with your little whore wasn’t the answer to—”
“Oh, really? Really? She’s the whore?” Orrick gives a boisterous laugh. “That’s rich. Last I checked, I’m the married one, not her. If someone appreciates me, I’m not going to say no when my own wife doesn’t have the stomach to touch me.”
“Can you blame me?” she shrieks.
“Blame you? Why? What have I done that’s so bad?”
“You’re weak, Orrick! You’ve always been weak!” She waves her hand, slinging the insults back at him. Seeing my chance to bolt, I hurry past them, making it out into the hall to see the last of their guests and staff barreling out the door, each with embarrassed looks on their faces.
“Don’t think you’re getting out of here,” Iris cries from behind me, grasping my shoulder. Her nails dig into my skin, and I jerk away, feeling her rip into me. When I look down, I’m bleeding.
“Ouch!” I cry. “You clawed me!” I’m loud and more dramatic than necessary, so I know the guests can hear it. Even to me, the words sound stiff, but they serve the purpose intended. The front door shuts with the last guest, and out on the lawn, I can see even the waiters have stepped outside, though they aren’t going far. How embarrassing for the Lockes.
“Okay, okay. Let’s just all take a breath,” Orrick says, stepping outside. “Let’s talk this through, okay? Iris, Olivia, we should come into the study, stop the public show, and talk like civilized adults.” He’s still shaking and on edge as he says it.
I cower, stepping back toward the stairs. “I don’t feel safe up here. I want to go downstairs.”
Iris rolls her eyes. “Oh, relax, we’re not going to hurt you.”
Orrick groans, hands up in front of his chest in a calm manner. “Just…okay. Let’s go downstairs.” They both look like they fear I will bolt at any moment, but I’m not going anywhere. Not until this is finished. Together, we walk down the stairs.
“Can I step into the bathroom and clean up a bit?” I ask, gesturing toward the blood dripping down my arm.
Iris nods but doesn’t speak. I step into the bathroom, wiping the blood from my shoulder and staring at myself in the mirror.
Am I really going to do this?
There’s no question anymore.
We will die for our secrets.
I think we’ve proven that by now.
Each of us, the smiles we hide behind, the niceties we observe, we know at a moment’s notice, we will take those secrets to the grave.
That’s the difference between the three of us and regular people. For most, secrets are embarrassing and you’d rather not share them. For us, our secrets are the reason we breathe. The reason our hearts continue to beat. We’d sooner give it all up than betray them.
As much as I can’t respect these two, I can respect that. We are alike in that way, but so different in all the others.
In just a few moments, this could all be over. Three will walk into the room, but not all three will leave. One of us won’t make it, I know this much is true like I know I’d do this all again. Maybe it’ll be more than one of us. Maybe all of us.
We won’t back down, won’t lie our way out of it like we’ve been lying to each other for weeks.
For the first time since we met, all our truths will be on the table and then we decide where to go from here. We decide who gets justice, who gets revenge, who gets peace. There could be a way for all of us to leave safely, but I’m not interested in that anymore. I’ve come too far. I know too much.
Secrets really are our most powerful weapon, and I plan to wield mine like a blade in battle. I expect they will do the same.
I take a breath before I step into the room where I know my fate will be decided, where I will decide theirs.
I will die for my secrets, but I can’t live with them anymore.
The empire will crumble.
This is for you, Tom.
Chapter Forty-Six
Mia
When I step out of the bathroom under the stairs, Orrick and Iris are waiting just outside the door. The air is thick with tension as we look at each other, waiting for what comes next.
“Maybe we should sit,” Orrick says, gesturing toward the living room.
“I need more to drink,” I tell him. “Maybe we could go into the kitchen.”
“Fine, Olivia,” Iris says, her tone clipped.
We walk into the kitchen, and I begin to speak. “So, first things first, I think you should call me Mia.”
“Mia?” she asks, weighing it on her tongue. I think it means something to her. She looks at Orrick. “So, I was right.”
“Tom Carey was my fiancé,” I tell her, and watch the shock resonate in her expression. “I came to you because I have reason to believe you and your husband framed him for the bombing of Vance Corporation.”
“You’re insane,” she says with a laugh.
“No, but I am right. Tom would never have hurt anyone, but he was sleeping with you, Iris. I’m guessing that didn’t sit right with Orrick, and he framed and then killed Tom to get him out of the way.”
There is no shock on Iris’ face. Her lips press together, and it’s a complete confirmation of what I assumed. They were both in on it. I don’t know how deep—I don’t know if they set the bombing up to frame him or if it was just a convenient way to get him out of the way when it fell into their laps, but I know they were both involved. I know they both stole the most important thing in my life from me. With that realization, my decision is made. The plan is a go.
Orrick leans forward on the counter. “Hold on. I knew Tom and Iris were sleeping together, yes, but Iris has affairs all the time. That had nothing to do with Tom or t
he bombing.”
“So, why then? Why would you do it?” I beg.
“Mia, it’s…it’s complicated.” He releases a heavy sigh.
“Shut up, Orrick,” Iris snaps.
“So, you admit it? You did it? You framed him and killed him?”
They’re silent.
“What do you want, Mia?” Orrick says finally. “Are you here because of Tom…or because of me…or something else entirely? Do you want money?”
Rage bubbles up in my belly, causing my head to spin. Do I want money? Money will never bring him back. Money will never undo what’s been done. “I couldn’t care less about your money. I’m here because I want to know the truth about what happened to the man I loved.” I can finally admit the truth, the whole truth out loud, and it feels amazing. The weight of what I’ve said weighs heavily in his eyes. I don’t care about you. I never cared about you.
Iris looks pleased. “We don’t know why Tom did what he did.” She crosses her arms. “But we had nothing to do with it.”
I walk to the fridge and pull out the plates Maya prepared for us and the drinks I had her set aside, placing them in front of me. I pull the wrapper off one of the plates and begin to eat, taking a sip of the champagne. I push a glass toward each of them, but they stare at me strangely.
“What are you doing?” Orrick asks.
“What do you mean? I’m hungry.”
“Enough of this, Olivia, Mia, whoever the hell you are. I don’t think you realize what you’ve done by coming here. We are not people to be messed with,” Iris threatens, shoving her finger onto the countertop. “Now, either tell us what we can do to make this go away, or you’ll be dealing with serious repercussions. You came here under false pretenses. You…you stole someone’s identity.”
“Don’t be dramatic. I didn’t steal anyone’s identity, Iris. The checks made out to Olivia Mendes are still sitting on my counter. I didn’t cash a single one. I never cared about the money. It was always about justice for Tom. I just want his family to know he isn’t a murderer. I don’t want him to be remembered as a monster. I loved him, and he doesn’t deserve to be forgotten or hated for a crime he didn’t commit.”
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