Olivia on her knees, eyes unfocused, skin rosy. Her on her back, legs spread, eyes closed. There are over ten photos of her in various positions. She looks younger in these images; her hair is shorter and she’s wearing heavy makeup. There is a man in each one, but their face is cut off, revealing nothing about them except that he has his dick in my wife.
“Who?” I growl.
Sebastian shakes his head, “Delivered this morning.”
“Here?”
“To me. Found it on the windshield of my car. Asked around to see if anything had been delivered here today but no one has seen anything. Killian and Dean haven’t had anything, nor any of the other inner circle members.”
“Why you?”
“My guess,” Bast starts, “I’m your second, your closest. They knew I’d come to you immediately. They didn’t deliver here because there’s too much risk ofbeing seen but at my apartment? There’s plenty of areas one can go to avoid security.”
“Fuck,” I roar, unable to take my eyes from the photos.
“Does she know?”
Sebastian shrugs, “I don’t know, Kai.”
Why the fuck would someone dig this up about Olivia? Where the fuck did these photos even come from? They never came up in any of my background checks on her.
And how exactly do I address it with her?
Chapter Twenty
Every time I think about this morning, I laugh. I’ve been giggling all damn day as I picture the way he spat out his coffee and immediately thought he’d been poisoned.
Poor Louis though, he was a mess for a good thirty minutes after Malakai skulked off to lick his wounds in the gym. It took a lot of convincing to assure him he wasn’t about to lose his job.
It’s been a few hours since then and despite not having anything to do in this damn house, I’m in a cheerful mood. I took a swim this morning and picked a book from the library in the living room before I’d sat in the sunroom and read for a while, but then I became restless and now I’m wandering the halls.
No one speaks to me still but that’s okay, I’m finding comfort in the silence.
That is until I find Malakai in the kitchen.
He’s now in a suit, hair styled, and face freshlytrimmed, his shoulders looking impossibly wider with his hunched over stance. There’s a folder in front of him.
I calm my heart as I walk into the kitchen, heading for the coffee machine.
“Sit down, Olivia.” His voice startles me, not because I wasn’t expecting him to talk but because I wasn’t expecting that deep stern tone to come out of him.
“I’m getting coffee,” I grumble, reaching for a mug.
“Sit. Down.”
Someone’s still sour about the salt. It just makes me want to do it more.
“You don’t tell me what to do.” I snap at him.
“Olivia,” He growls.
I hear footsteps behind me and glance over my shoulder to find Sebastian blocking the way out.
Okay…
“Fine,” I drop onto the stool and cross my arms, “What’s got up your ass? Is this about the salt? It was a joke, Malakai, get over it.”
“Salt?” Sebastian queries.
