“Alicia, stop twisting things. You shoved me, and I pushed you in defence. That’s how you got hurt. Why are you making out I’m lying!” Eve exclaimed indignantly.
“Bingo! Oliver, when have I ever been violent?” I whispered. Desperately, I held Oliver’s eyes, needing him to see the truth. Would he take Eve’s side? Uncertainty flashed as Oliver studied my head wound. Then he glanced at Eve and the wilting flower impression she was portraying.
“You’re creating lies to cover your vile actions. You should be grovelling at Eve’s feet, Alicia,” Oliver snapped. “Get on your fucking knees and beg Eve for forgiveness.”
“Yeah, that won’t be fuckin’ happening. Alicia, Zinnia, come, now! Good job I returned because you forgot your purse, babe. What a total cunt you are, Oliver,” Dax snarled from behind.
Zinnia appeared and moved to my side. She wrapped an arm around my waist as Oliver was shocked into speechlessness. Oliver turned to face Dax as the blood drained from his face.
“What type of lowlife, asshole scum, takes the word of a whore over his wife? You don’t deserve Alicia, and one day this will come back to haunt you. Eve shoved Alicia. Your piece of cheap pussy harmed and scarred your wife. God, how can you call yourself a man?” Dax continued.
“Alicia is going nowhere! She needs to stay and look after Eve!” Oliver snapped. His narcissism was on full display.
“Nah, that’s not happening, and Oliver, you don’t want to upset me!” Dax threatened.
Oliver flinched.
“Oliver, you forgot one thing,” I said quietly as I moved towards Dax.
“What’s that?” he demanded snottily.
“And I thought you were clever—I wasn’t the only witness,” I replied and kept walking. Oliver should remember that his office was recorded. Eve blanched as Oliver frowned. It wasn’t my problem if he didn’t.
Chapter Thirteen.
The Observer
“How badly was Alicia injured?” I demanded.
“Mrs Kensington’s got around eight stitches. Sir, the scar will be visible but very fine. The plastic surgeon was the best,” my aide said.
I pursed my lips. Oliver Kensington had gone too far. Alicia had been hurt. Would this be the end of their marriage, or would Alicia continue sucking up the abuse? The urge to shake her was stronger than ever. Alicia could do so much better, but had been fooled into believing otherwise.
I recognised what Oliver had done. The conditioning was obvious; over time, Oliver had moulded her into a Stepford wife. But now and then, I saw a flash of personality that showed Alicia’s potential. A brief smile crossed my lips. Oliver might think he owned Alicia’s heart, body, and soul, but he didn’t.
A small part of Alicia existed, and one day she’d throw off the shackles Oliver had placed around her. In the meantime, I’d an asshole to fuck with.
Alicia
Oliver hadn’t called or come to see me. Tragically, that spoke volumes. I’d returned to work, thanking God that the mask covered my forehead, or my identity would be out. As I was driving in today, I was surprised when I received a phone call.
“Mrs Kensington, this is Heidi.”
“Oh, hello. Can I help you?” I inquired, wondering why Heidi was calling me. Despite my asking, I hadn’t got the footage. Guess she was loyal to Oliver.
“Mrs Kensington, I got what you requested. Can we meet at Mona’s Café, and I’ll give it to you?” Heidi asked. She sounded shaken and upset.
“Is everything okay?”
“Ma’am, I can’t talk right now. Please agree to the meeting,” she begged.
“When?”
“Twenty minutes?” Heidi said.
Angry voices bellowed in the background, and then the line died. Slightly anxious, I turned the car around and headed towards Mona’s Café. Heidi was waiting when I arrived, and her face was tear-stained. Beside her was a cardboard box, and I realised it contained her desk contents.
“Oliver fired you?” I gasped, shocked beyond belief.
