Unveiled

by Jodi Ellen Malpas

  through his formal reply. I know what he’s doing. He’s detaching himself, and I know why. He’ll be walking out of this house, oozing his usual aloofness and power, not prepared to let any one of the sinful bastards downstairs see any scrap of weakness. I’m more than happy to let him have that.

  He approaches me and when he’s nearly touching my chest, he slides his hand onto my nape and massages firmly into my strung muscles. I don’t miss the slight wince when he finally registers my cut cheek. ‘I’m so incredibly in love with you, Olivia Taylor,’ he whispers hoarsely, letting his forehead fall delicately to mine. ‘I’m leaving this house my way, but once I’m out that door, I’m yours to do whatever the hell you want with me.’ His lips push firmly into my forehead, his hand squeezing my nape.

  I know what he’s trying to tell me, but I don’t want to do whatever the hell I want with him. I just want him. I’d never enforce anything on him, not after everything he’s endured up to this point in his life. He’s free now, and I’m not about to slap conditions, demands, or restrictions on him. He can do whatever the hell he likes with me. I pull away and smile when I see his wayward curl back and misbehaving. I leave it exactly where it is. ‘I’m yours – no conditions attached.’

  ‘Jolly good, Miss Taylor.’ He nods agreeably and gives me another kiss, this time on the lips. ‘Not that you have any choice in the matter.’

  I smile, and he winks. It’s beautiful, despite the abnormal darkness of his eyes. ‘Go,’ I prompt, pushing him away.

  His lips tip a little as he takes backward steps, pulling at the lapels of his jacket until he turns and strides out of the room, leaving the door open for Gracie and William, who are waiting cautiously outside. Both look at Miller as he passes, like he’s been resurrected. He has. I smile a little on the inside as William follows Miller’s perfect form around the galleried landing, shaking his head on a little huff of laughter before he catches up with him and flanks him as he takes the stairs.

  I follow on, not even flinching or objecting when I feel an arm settle around my shoulders. I look to see Gracie gazing down at me. ‘He’s going to be fine, Olivia.’

  ‘Of course he is.’ I smile and let her lead me down the stairs behind William as he escorts the Special One away from this sinister place, but as we get to the front hall, my contentment wavers. I see Charlie propped up against the wall outside his office. He’s beaten to a pulp, and when one of his men turns to us with a sneer on his face, my contentment slips away completely.

  This isn’t over – not by a long shot.

  I glance to William and Miller, but neither look fazed.

  ‘Evening.’ The gruff voice doesn’t come from William or Miller or any one of the mean slimeballs flanking Charlie.

  Every set of eyes in the room divert to the doors, the atmosphere thickening further. There’s a beast of a man filling the doorway. Huge. He’s silver-haired, the skin of his face pitted. ‘You broke our deal, Charlie.’

  The Russian.

  I look to Gracie when she settles a shaky hand on my arm, seeing her eyes centred on the ominous being holding everyone’s attention.

  The unease that creeps over Charlie and his men is visible. I can feel it.

  ‘I’m sure we can renegotiate, Vladimir.’ Charlie tries to laugh but it comes out more like a wheeze.

  ‘A deal is a deal.’ He smiles, just as he’s joined by an army of men, all suited, all as large as Vladimir and all focused on Charlie.

  It’s quiet.

  Charlie’s men step away from their boss, leaving him unprotected prey.

  Then all hell breaks loose.

  William yells and makes a grab for Miller, who’s now charging at Charlie, murder etched on every piece of his face. No one will stop him. All of Charlie’s men move farther away, clearing the path, giving Miller clear access to the immoral bastard.

  I display no shock or worry. Not even when Miller lifts Charlie from his feet by his neck and slams him into the wall, so hard I think the plaster could have cracked behind him. Charlie is showing no fear or shock, his face straight, but that evil glint has disappeared. He expected this.

  ‘See this?’ Miller asks, his voice low and dripping with violence, running a finger along the scar on Charlie’s cheek, all the way down to the corner of his mouth. ‘I’m going to get them to complete this Chelsea smile before they kill you.’ He jerks Charlie against the wall, slamming him harder into the plaster. A loud clatter resonates around the hall when a picture jumps off the wall and hits the floor as a result of the vibrations. Yet I still don’t move a muscle and Charlie remains straight-faced, taking what Miller is giving. He has no fight in him. He’s defeated. ‘Slowly,’ Miller whispers.

  ‘I’ll see you in hell, Hart,’ Charlie sneers.

  ‘Been there.’ Miller slams him one last, extra powerful time for good measure before dropping his hold. The evil bastard slides down the wall, looking weak and pathetic, while Miller makes an extra-long, precise job of straightening out his suit. ‘As much as I’d love the pleasure of killing you myself, our Russian friend here is an expert.’ He steps forward, towering over Charlie’s slumped body, and draws a long, filthy-sounding cough. He stares at him for a brief moment before spitting what he’s collected in his mouth right in Charlie’s face. ‘And he’ll make sure there’s nothing left to identify. Goodbye, Charlie.’ He turns and strides out, keeping his eyes focused forward, ignoring all of the quiet observers, including me. ‘Make it painful,’ he says as he passes Vladimir.

  The Russian smiles darkly. ‘With the greatest of pleasure.’

  I’m suddenly on the move, courtesy of Gracie guiding me, looking over my shoulder as Charlie slips all over the floor, trying to get up. I feel nothing . . . until I find William and see him studying Charlie’s pathetic form. They both gaze at each other for a long, silent while. It’s William who breaks the connection when he eventually looks to Vladimir, nodding mildly. Sadly.

  Then he starts to follow us out.

  And I have to reason with myself not to stay and watch.

  William’s driver greets me with a tip of his hat and a warm smile, opening the door for me. ‘Thank you.’ I nod, sliding into the backseat. I watch for a few moments through the window as William and Miller talk. Or William talks. Miller is just listening, looking down at his feet, nodding every now and then. Every curious part of my brain wants to roll the window down and listen, but my curiosity transforms into panic when I allow the newsflashes of earlier to settle. In the space of a day, I suddenly have a mum and a dad. Miller doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that William Anderson is my father, and something tells me he’s going to be even more shocked than I am.

  I’m out of the car in a split second, joining them on the pavement. Both men look to me, Miller on a frown, William with a knowing, almost smug, smile. He’s going to enjoy this. I know he is. I could think for years about the best way to word this and still be clueless. There’s no right way. There’s nothing that’s going to lessen the shock. Miller’s still regarding me closely a few moments later when I still haven’t spoken, so I draw the biggest breath I’m ever likely to and gesture towards . . . my father. ‘Miller, meet my dad.’

  He doesn’t give me anything. His face has fallen into complete blankness. Poker-faced. Straight. The most impassive expression I’ve ever seen on him. All this time I’ve spent learning how to read him and deciphering his moods, and now I’m lost. I begin worrying my ring on my finger, shifting under his blank face, and I look to William to gauge his mood. His smugness is now full-on amusement.

  I shake my head a little in despair and return my cautious eyes to Miller. He looks like he’s gone into shock. ‘Miller?’ I prompt, getting increasingly uncomfortable as the silence extends.

  ‘Hart?’ William says, joining me in my attempt to rouse Miller from his daze.

  It’s another awkward few seconds before he finally shows signs of life. His glazed gaze passes between us a couple of times before he takes in air. Lot
s of it. And lets it spill slowly out on three familiar words: ‘Just . . . fucking . . . perfect.’

  William laughs. A proper belly laugh. ‘So now you really do have to respect me,’ he chuckles, getting a cheap thrill from Miller’s reaction.

  ‘Fuck . . . me.’

  ‘Glad you’re pleased.’

  ‘Fucking hell.’

  ‘Less of that in front of my daughter.’

  Miller coughs his thoughts on that and throws wide eyes my way. ‘How . . .’ He pauses, pursing his lips . . . and they slowly slink into a mischievous grin as he leisurely returns his focus to William, brushing down the sleeves of his jacket casually as he does.

  What’s he thinking?

  Once he’s through fussing over his suit, his hand slowly extends towards William. ‘Nice to meet you.’ His grin widens. ‘Dad.’

  ‘You can fuck right off!’ William blurts, knocking Miller’s offering away. ‘Over my dead body, Hart! Just think yourself fucking lucky that I’m even allowing you in her life.’ His mouth snaps shut and he looks embarrassed, and I know it’s because he’s just realised that he has no right to dictate that. ‘Just look after her,’ he finishes, fidgeting under my bemused eyes. ‘Please.’

  Miller’s palm slides onto my nape and his mouth moves to my ear. ‘Will you give us five?’ he requests quietly, flexing his hand to turn me towards the car. ‘Jump in.’

  I don’t protest, mainly because no matter how much I try to delay the talk these two men are going to have, it’ll happen eventually. So we may as well be done with that today, too.

  I slide in and get comfortable, shutting the door softly, and fight the temptation to push my ear up against the window. But I’m distracted from my temptation when the door on the other side opens and Gracie appears, bending a little to get level with me. I shift in my seat, a little self-conscious, feeling under close scrutiny. I am. Her navy eyes are gazing at me fondly.

  ‘I know I have no right to be,’ she says quietly, almost reluctantly, ‘but I’m so, so proud of you for fighting for your love.’

  I see her hand twitching by her side, wanting to touch me, but I can see uncertainty now, maybe because Miller’s back to his normal self and I seem more stable. I know I feel it. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t need her in there. My mother. She was there for me, and perhaps she was operating on guilt, but when I needed her, she was there. I take her shaking hand and squeeze it, silently telling her that it’s OK. ‘Thank you,’ I murmur, struggling to maintain our eye contact, simply because I might cry if I don’t look away. I don’t want to cry anymore.

  She brings my hand to her lips and pushes them hard to my skin, clenching her eyes shut. ‘I love you,’ she croaks. It takes every modicum of my remaining strength not to break down on her, and I know she’s struggling, too. ‘Don’t be too hard on your father. Everything that happened, it’s my fault, sweetheart.’

  I shake my head, angry. ‘No, it was Charlie.’ And then I have to ask because there’s one thing unclear in my mind. ‘You met William before Charlie?’

  She nods on a frown. ‘Yes.’

  ‘And William broke things off?’

  She nods again, and I can see it hurts her to think of it. ‘I was oblivious to his world. He wanted me out of it, but I slept with Charlie to punish him. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into before it was too late. I’m not proud of what I did, Olivia.’

  It’s me nodding now. I get it. All of it, and despite the horrors my mother and father have endured, I can’t help thinking that I wouldn’t have my someone if our histories were different. ‘Why didn’t you just tell William?’ I ask. ‘About me, about Charlie?’

  She smiles fondly. ‘I was young . . . stupid . . . scared. He screwed with my mind. It was a simple decision. I hurt or everyone I loved hurt.’

  ‘We hurt anyway.’

  She nods, swallowing hard. ‘I can’t change what happened and how I dealt with it. I wish I could.’ She squeezes my hand. ‘I just hope you can forgive me for my poor decisions.’

  There’s no question. I don’t need to think about this. I get out of the car and throw my arms around my mum, burying my face in her neck while she sobs relentlessly on me. And I don’t let go. Not for a long, long time.

  It takes William to sever our contact when he takes Gracie by the hips and gently tries to coax her away from me. ‘Let’s go, darling,’ he soothes, letting her kiss my face a few more times before gently tugging her back.

  I smile at William, seeing completeness as he holds on to my mother and looks at me. ‘I didn’t want you to hate your mother,’ he says, telling me without the need to ask why he spun me the story about sending her away. He didn’t know she’d been scared away. He thought she’d abandoned us. ‘I didn’t want you to know who your father was.’ He pauses and Gracie squeezes his forearm. ‘At least, who I thought was your father.’

  ‘You’re my dad.’ I smile, drawing one from him, too.

  ‘Are you disappointed?’

  I shake my head as I slip into the backseat again, smiling like crazy on the inside. I look across the car when I hear the door open, and Miller slides in, getting comfy in his seat. ‘You’re coming to mine,’ he states matter-of-factly. ‘William has spoken to Gregory. Everything is fine.’

  I’m abruptly strangled by guilt. I haven’t thought about Nan amid the crazy events of the best part of today. ‘I need to see her.’ She’ll be out of her mind, and now I’m remembering all sorts of disturbing things she has said. She knows Gracie is back, and I’m not going to even bother thinking she won’t want to see her. I need to get home and prepare her for that.

  ‘No, you don’t.’ Miller looks to me, his eyebrows high, and while I’m delighted that he’s back with an infuriating bang, I’m not so pleased he’s insisting on keeping me away from my grandmother.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ I retort, throwing my best try me look. I’m pleading to God that he doesn’t push this. I’ve only just got him back. I don’t want to start off on a disagreement.

  ‘We need some alone time,’ he says quietly, yanking at my heartstrings. I screw my face up, feeling defeat muscling past my determination. How can I refuse after what he’s been through? ‘I need you in my arms, Olivia. Just us. I beg you.’ His hand creeps towards me and settles on my knee, flexing and stroking. ‘Give me my time, sweet girl.’

  My shoulders sag on a sigh. The two people I love most in the world both need me now, and I haven’t a clue which one I should centre my attention on. Why not both? ‘You can come home with me,’ I suggest, solving my predicament instantly, but my satisfaction slips away when he slowly shakes his head.

  ‘I need my home, my things . . . you.’ He means his perfect world. His perfect world has been turned up on its head, and now he needs to restore some of it. He won’t feel completely settled until he can do that. I get it.

  ‘Miller, I—’

  I’m cut short when William leans into the car. ‘I’m taking your mother to Josephine’s.’

  I panic, starting to scramble from the car. ‘But—’

  ‘No buts,’ William warns, stopping me.

  I snap my mouth shut and shoot him an indignant look. Not that it even minutely dents the hard authority he’s exuding.

  ‘You’ll do as you’re told for once and trust we’ll do right by your grandmother.’

  ‘She’s delicate,’ I protest, making to exit the car again. I don’t know why. I’m not stupid enough to think I’m going anywhere.

  ‘Back in.’ William almost laughs, pushing me down to the seat. Then Miller joins forces with him, pulling me across the seat until I’m a prisoner in his arms.

  ‘Hey,’ I gripe, wriggling in a futile effort to escape.

  ‘Really, Olivia?’ Miller grumbles tiredly. ‘After everything we’ve been through today, are you honestly going to hit me with your sass?’ He squeezes me in. ‘There is no choice here. You’re coming home and you’re going to do it without a fuss, sweet girl. Shut the door, Anders
on.’

  My stunned eyes look to William, who shrugs on a smile and goes to shut the door, but a well-manicured hand rested on his forearm halts him. He turns to find Gracie’s pleading face. He visibly sags and turns a similar pleading face to Miller. I complete the party and do exactly the same. My poor, exhausted man has three sets of beseeching eyes rooted on him. I can’t even feel guilty for the defeated look that replaces his sheer determination to have me to himself. He releases me and flops back in his seat on a sigh. ‘Just . . . fucking . . . perfect,’ he breathes.

  ‘I need to see her, Miller.’ Gracie steps forward and William doesn’t stop her. ‘And I need Olivia with me. I promise you, I’ll never ask for another thing. Just give me this.’

  I gulp down my pain and watch as he slowly starts to nod. ‘I’m coming, too,’ he states, short and sharp, ensuring all involved know it’s not up for discussion. ‘We’ll meet you there. Drive on, Ted.’ Miller refuses to look at me.

  ‘Certainly, sir,’ Ted confirms, looking at me in the rear-view mirror, smiling brightly. ‘With the greatest of pleasure.’

  The door closes next to me and as we pull away, I see William escorting a shaky-looking Gracie over to Tony’s Audi. I don’t waste time trying to prepare for what’s to come once we arrive at Nan’s. Nothing could possibly work.

  I don’t want to go in. I know William and Gracie haven’t arrived yet. Not even a stunt driver could beat Ted in London traffic. I’m just standing on the pavement, staring at the front door, willing Miller to encourage me onward. I know he won’t, though. He’ll leave me forever if he has to, unprepared to make me rush something monumental that I thought would never happen. But it is going to happen. And I really have no idea how to handle it. Should I go in now? Should I prepare her, let her know Gracie is on her way? Or should I wait and take my mother in to see Nan? I really don’t know, but I’m halfway to my decision being made for me when the front door swings open and Gregory appears. It takes a few confused moments to register that he’s not alone, and his companion is neither Nan nor George. It’s Ben.