Olivia, Striking Back (Iron Ladies Book 4)

by Danielle Norman

  Rhys glanced at Olivia. It was subtle, but she smiled and let go of his arm. She would be left alone with Drake, but they were in public. Also, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t spent time with him alone in his psychiatric office.

  Still, Rhys was filled with reluctance as he followed Lila over to his parents.

  Olivia

  Drake watched her take a nervous sip of the champagne that Lila brought her.

  “Olivia, I am surprised to see you with my brother,” he said, stepping closer, but not so close to raise any eyebrows. “However, given your description of him during our last session, I suppose it makes sense.”

  Olivia wanted to gag, but she played her role well.

  “Oh, it’s not serious,” she whispered, biting her lip as she gazed up at his face.

  “Well, it never is. Not with him,” he remarked with a conspiratorial wink. His tone was casual, but his gaze continued to pierce her in a way that left her feeling naked. Those dark eyes, the exact color and shape as Rhys’s gaze, held no warmth. Only ice.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia could see Lila laugh before she wandered away from an older couple Olivia assumed where Drake and Rhys’s parents. She greeted another group of guests and laughed at the stories of the people around her. Lila was the perfect hostess, confident and charming. How could Drake take someone like her for granted? Even if Olivia were married to the most eligible bachelor in all of the South, she was certain she could never navigate a crowd with as much grace as Lila.

  Olivia felt Rhys’s eyes on her and forced her gaze back to Drake.

  “What do you mean?” Olivia asked him, referring to his last comment about Rhys.

  “Well, think about it. He just left you all alone instead of introducing you to our parents,” Drake said, brushing aside the fact that he literally just insisted on speaking with Olivia alone. He created his own version of reality with his words.

  “Oh, it’s okay,” Olivia insisted, trying to make her voice sound as if it wasn’t okay at all. “He didn’t leave me alone. The room is full of people, anyway.”

  “Yes, a room full of people, but I bet you’ve never felt more alone,” he mused quietly, accepting a glass of scotch from a passing caterer.

  “I wouldn’t say that.” Olivia frowned, watching him take a healthy swig of the amber liquid in the glass.

  “I would,” he replied gently. If anyone overheard him, they wouldn’t think he was being rude, but he was. “As a well-respected mental health professional and a man, I know what I’m talking about.”

  Olivia fought back the urge to knock the scotch out of his hand. “Yes, of course.” She blushed. “You are very wise.”

  “I am glad you got to meet my wife,” he replied, taking another sip of alcohol. The way that Drake downed the liquid without flinching told Olivia that he was a frequent drinker. It reminded of her father, and her stomach squirmed.

  “She’s very pretty.” Olivia sighed, looking down at her shoes. “And nice.”

  “She is a good wife, but she lacks humility,” he said. His tone was so matter of fact that the insult didn’t come out harshly. For all the inflection in his voice, he could’ve been commenting on the weather. If anyone lacked humility, it was Drake himself.

  “Oh, I see,” Olivia replied.

  “Unlike you,” he said quietly. “You are humble, just like a woman should be.”

  Olivia tasted bile, but choked it down. She could picture Adeline listening in on the conversation, probably cursing out Drake.

  Instead, she took a deep breath and downed the rest of her champagne. “Drake, can I ask you something?”

  “Of course, Olivia. I hope you know that you can consider me a friend, not just your psychiatrist,” he purred. “Especially now that you’ve been to my home.”

  Olivia nodded. “Well…it’s just…do you like me?”

  Drake chuckled. “Of course, I like you. I am fond of all my clients.”

  “Do your other clients—have they also come to parties like this?”

  “Well, no, darling. I can’t say any of my other clients have dated my brother. It’s not something I would advise.”

  “So, you wouldn’t advise it of me either? Do you think I should break up with—“

  “Hey, there you are,” crooned Rhys, sliding up next to Olivia and placing a hand on the small of her back. She jumped at the unexpected touch, but then she relaxed into it. She felt comforted by his presence. “Drake, you’re monopolizing my girl.”

  Drake looked like he wanted to reply with something rude, but he held his tongue. “My apologies. I was just giving her some friendly advice.”

  “Oh?” Rhys asked, faking a look of innocent confusion as he glanced at Olivia.

  “Yes, but I suppose she understood my message despite your interruption.” Drake sighed. “I should continue my rounds. I’m being a bad host. It was lovely getting to chat with you, Olivia.”

  “Yes, you, too,” Olivia said, forcing herself to give him a longing look as he walked away. He glanced over his shoulder at her, grinning with satisfaction at her expression.

  After he disappeared into the crowd, Olivia let out a loud sigh.

  “He’s such an ass,” she muttered.

  Rhys snorted. He didn’t remove his hand from her back. “Tell me about it.”

  Rhys

  By the time the clock hit ten in the evening, most of the guests had cleared out. It wasn’t the kind of party that Rhys frequented, where the socializing continued on until the small hours of the morning. Rather, his twin brother was far too invested in his image of sophistication and poise to host a party that went too late.

  Olivia said her goodbyes a half hour ago, taking his wires with her. Much to his disappointment, he took them off by himself in the guest bathroom. He wished that she had been the one to remove them because he liked the way she blushed when she saw him shirtless. He also liked the way that she became affected with snarkiness to cover the fact that she was clearly into him.

  Rhys didn’t tell Olivia, but he had a plan of his own. In fact, it was a plan that he should’ve embarked on years ago. He should’ve been keeping track of every moment when he suspected that Drake was treating Lila poorly. If he’d been smart enough to do something like that, his sister-in-law would have a log of situations to refer to as evidence of mistreatment when they finally got in touch with the attorney.

  It was overstepping, of course. He knew that. It was just that he felt so guilty about not intervening before Lila signed the prenuptial agreement and married him in the first place. Obviously, they weren’t as close back then. He didn’t think of her as his true sister, but rather as a sweet girl who was joining their family as the unlucky partner of his cruel brother.

  Regardless of all of that, with the party guests gone, Rhys had a chance to capture what Drake was like when he didn’t have to put on a smile and perform as a loving husband for dozens of guests.

  Rhys had lingered around the corner in the hallway that led to the kitchen, out of the way of the catering staff and cleaners who were tidying up after the party. After the last guest left through the front door, Rhys watched the warm smile melt off his brother’s face as he turned and immediately barreled up the stairs after Lila.

  Rhys followed hurriedly, creeping along the edge of the wall down the second floor hallway and toward the sound of Drake and Lila’s voices in the library.

  He unlocked his phone and opened a voice recording app. Pressing record, Rhys pressed his lips together and got as close to the ajar doorway of the library as he dared, hoping that none of the cleaning staff would come upstairs and stumble upon him.

  “What do you think you’re doing up here?” Drake snapped at Lila.

  “What do you mean?” Lila asked softly. “I just needed a minute. I’m so tired, Drake, and there were so many guests…”

  “You forced me to say goodbye to the Martins by myself,” Drake said. “Do you know how important the Martins are? They’re traditional fam
ily people, and their favor means everything. You should’ve been by my side so they could see how much I honor the sanctity of marriage.”

  “I’m sorry, I—” Lila tried to cut in, but Drake continued.

  “Senator Martin could be the one to open the door for me into local politics,” he said, raising his voice with each word. “You know how seriously I’ve been considering that, Lila.”

  Rhys furrowed his brow. He hadn’t known that his brother was considering rerouting from a job in psychiatry to politics, but he supposed it wasn’t that bizarre. After all, politics would suit his brother even more than medicine. It would allow him schmooze and preen all he wanted. Plus, there was more potential for money in it.

  Still, there was no way that someone like Drake should be in any position of political leadership. He didn’t care about people; he just wanted power.

  “I’m sorry, Drake,” Lila said again. “I should’ve paid more attention. I will reach out to Mrs. Martin personally tomorrow and ask her to have lunch with me so I can tell her just how flawless our marriage is.”

  Lila was too good to Drake. She always apologized to him and bent to his will, but Rhys knew that was because the other option—talking back to him—would end in him being angered even further. The last few times Lila attempted to hold her own in an argument with him, it ended in Drake grabbing her so hard she bruised.

  Rhys took a deep breath as quietly as possible, hoping that the recording was catching all of this. He probably should’ve asked Olivia to keep the wires on, but then she would’ve suspected that he was going to use them to venture into some unapproved espionage.

  “Is that sarcasm?” shouted Drake.

  Rhys noticed that, from his angle out in the hallway, he could see the far wall of the library. A large mirror hung on the wall, gleaming brightly in a gilded frame between two mahogany bookcases. Drake and Lila moved into the mirror’s realm of reflection, and Rhys watched as he cornered her against one of the windows.

  “What? No, of course not,” Lila squeaked.

  “You called our marriage flawless’ in an awfully nasty tone,” Drake argued. “If anything is putting a strain on our marriage, it’s your attitude. I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you recently.”

  Rhys swallowed. It took every ounce of willpower within him to keep himself from barging into the room, but it wouldn’t do any good. In fact, it would only hurt Lila more because Drake hated that they were such close friends, and he’d take it out on her once Rhys was actually gone.

  “No, no, I swear, Drake,” Lila plead. “I’m not trying to be difficult—”

  In the reflection of the mirror on the wall, Rhys watched Lila raise her hands in a gesture of surrender, waving them to indicate that she didn’t want to fight with Drake. The problem with Drake was that he didn’t care if you weren’t actually attempting to fight with him. He would twist your words and manipulate the situation until he could make it seem like his self-created anger was your fault.

  Gaslighting douchebag.

  “I think we need to have another conversation about medication,” Drake said. His grip on her arm was so tight that it caused her to flinch. Rhys flexed his fists, forcing himself to stay out in the hallway. “This behavior is unacceptable, Lila. I need to be able to count on you. I married you because I thought you would be a good wife. A loyal wife. I thought you would support me no matter what, but I can see that you actually don’t give a damn about my career goals, despite the fact that I’m the one paying the bills.”

  “No, Drake, I—”

  “Do not interrupt me!” he yelled, smacking his hand against the windowpanes behind her. Lila gasped sharply, shrinking back. The strike had been dangerously close to her face, though both of Rhys and Lila knew that Drake would never hurt her in a way that was so obvious. His abuse had only very recently toed the line from mental and emotional toward physical, which was why Lila needed to get out of this marriage as soon as possible.

  “Sorry,” she told him. Her voice was shaking, but Drake didn’t back down. He didn’t care that he was scaring her. In fact, he was probably getting high off the power.

  “I don’t understand what could make you so tired,” Drake hissed. “All you do is sit around this house all day. We have cleaners and cooks and all of that shit. You don’t have to lift a finger, except when I need you to be by my side. That’s your only duty. Apparently, the concept of wifely duties is beyond you since you haven’t managed to get pregnant yet.”

  “Dr. Terrill said I might have some fertility issues—”

  “Nonsense! I think you need to see a different gynecologist,” Drake interrupted. “I’ll call my colleague. He’s an expert in women’s health. He’ll be able to tell you what you’re doing wrong.”

  “Drake, my arm…it hurts,” Lila whimpered.

  Rhys watched Drake release his wife’s arm from his iron grip with an annoyed scoff and stalk away from her. He disappeared from the view of the mirror and began pacing on the other side of the library.

  Rhys had seen enough. As quietly as he could, he slipped down the hall and hurried down the stairs, sneaking out the front door without a backward glance. When he got back to his motorcycle, which was parked a block away from his brother’s house, he checked to make sure that the recording worked.

  The fight was muted, but if he turned the volume up far enough, it was audible. The Iron Ladies probably had the necessary equipment to clarify the sound. He mounted his motorcycle, but before he turned on the engine, he attached the audio file of the fight to an email, typed out a quick message, and sent it off to Olivia.

  They needed to get Lila out of this situation sooner rather than later.

  Olivia

  Olivia strode into the office the next morning.

  “Look at you,” Adeline said as she wiped smudged mascara from under her eye, her face bright with laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” Olivia asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” Adeline said, pressing her lips together in an attempt to hide her persistent smile.

  “No, tell me,” Olivia insisted as she went to the kitchenette and poured herself a cup of coffee.

  “We were just talking about why you’re late,” Melanie offered, her voice apologetic.

  “Adeline is late all the time,” Olivia countered.

  “Yeah, but you’re never late,” Melanie teased. “Which led us to make some pretty entertaining assumptions.”

  “Oh?” Olivia asked. She knew what they were implying, but she was going to force them to say it out loud.

  “I mean, come on, Liv. You spend the night with a hot guy at a dinner party and then show up late the next morning…”

  “I didn’t hookup with him if that’s what you’re implying,” Olivia quipped.

  “Hey, I wasn’t implying anything,” Adeline said. “Just wishful thinking, I guess.”

  Olivia plopped down beside Adeline. Melanie and Sunday sat across from them.

  “Rhys is hot and charming, yes,” Olivia admitted. “But I’d like to focus on the case, if that’s all right with you.”

  Adeline sighed, giving up her temporary plight for Olivia’s love life. “Yeah, the recordings are insane. I mean, the things he said to you! Right in front of everyone!”

  Sunday cringed. “The thing is, it may have been sleezy, but it isn’t anything we can hang him by his toes with. He could easily flip the script and dismiss it all as misunderstanding him.”

  “Master manipulator.” Melanie shrugged. “Just like Lila told us from the beginning.”

  “Did you guys see the email he sent me last night of the audio recording Rhys took of Drake fighting with Lila after the party. I was pissed at him for doing something that we didn’t agree on, but when I heard the recording, all I could think was how much Lila needs our help.”

  Melanie frowned. “Where’s the recording? It’s not from the wires?”

  Olivia shook her head. “No, he took it with his phone after I left the party.
Here, let me pull it up.”

  She nudged Sunday away from the computer and pulled up her email inbox. The other women gathered around her and read over her shoulder as Olivia opened the brief email from Rhys, describing the argument in the library.

  Adeline cursed under her breath. “Drake put his hands on her?”

  “Lila did mention that cheating and emotional bullying weren’t her only concerns,” Melanie mused with a deep frown. “It looks like his mistreatment is slowly escalating.”

  “Rhys witnessed him grabbing her,” Olivia said. “He also saw Drake hit the window next to her face. You can hear the impact in the recording. Listen.”

  Olivia played the recording for them, the muffled sounds of Drake and Lila’s voices filling the office. As they quietly listened to the altercation, their expressions were matching looks of disgust and anger.

  “He’s blaming her for not getting pregnant,” scoffed Adeline. “It’s a lucky thing for Lila’s sake, but doesn’t he realize that it could be his fault rather than hers? Making her feel bad for it isn’t going to help anything.”

  “He’s disgusting,” Olivia grumbled. “I’m dreading our next session because I know that I’ve probably got him interested.”

  “I agree.” Adeline nodded. “You are very good at pretending to be shy for a woman who doesn’t take shit from anyone.” Melanie giggled. “I bet that’s why Rhys likes you so much.”

  Olivia fixed her with a stern glare. “Rhys doesn’t like me.”

  “Of course he does.” Sunday laughed. “I mean, you saw his social media. He’s used to being pursued by hot women. You present a fascinating challenge for him.”

  “So, I’m a game to him? You’re telling me that I should actually encourage a man to treat me like the boss level in a video game?”

  “Not at all.” Sunday sighed. “I was just trying to explain why I think Rhys can’t take his eyes off you. I mean, we all saw how hot and bothered he got when you were wiring him up.”