Page 83 of Little Liar

Despite my contracting pussy, desperate for attention, and the way my ass grips Malachi’s cock, I pull my sleeves free of the letter opener and try to stand.

Malachi doesn’t budge.

“Can you please leave?” I don’t know who I’m talking to, but both are offended—Malachi because I move in a way that means he has to pull out; Abigail because she’s offended by his entire existence.

Malachi hides himself as he tucks his dick away, scowling at Abbi like she’s crashed his party and stolen his favorite present.

She raises her brow and pops her hip. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

His jaw tenses, eyes burning into her.

I grab his wrist when he takes a step forward. “Wait for me,” I tell him. “I’ll finish up my last email and meet you outside.”

This isn’t finished,he signs.

I smile because I absolutely hope it’s not.

Abigail raises her brow when he closes the door behind him. “What the fuck?”

I groan. “He found out about Mason.”

Her face drops. “Oh.”

“Dad didn’t think it would be good for him to know. Even when he was in prison, he said it was detrimental to Malachi’s mental health and he’d know eventually, just not yet. It’s been eight years. We thought the danger had passed.”

Her eyes flash. “Eight years or not, he was his best friend. Of course he’s going to be upset that everyone kept it from him.” She crosses her arms. “What are you going to do about tomorrow’s meeting?”

“Refuse and run.”

23

Olivia

Abigail was telling the truth about the Reznikov meeting being this morning. As soon as I woke up, Mom had sent me messages telling me to look my best and wear makeup. Her driver picked me up, much to Malachi’s dismay—he wanted to drive me and wait outside until after the meeting. He’s still mad about Mason. He’s quiet. More quiet than usual, but I understand he needs time.

He did make sure he fucked me before I left.

I’m currently sitting in the meeting room, my mom and Abigail present, with my brother’s cum leaking onto my panties every time I cough.

The door flies open to a hyperactive teen.

Molly helps our dad by holding the door and kicking aside Mom’s bag, earning herself a glare, then sits down beside me. She just got her hair cut and colored with some blonde flashes, and her nails are all pretty and pink after the manicure Dad bought her.

“Did you pick up the files I told you about?” Mom asks my dad, who merely nods with a hum.

They’re not getting along. Ever since the wedding—and now that my father is trying to call everything off—they’ve argued every day and barely spend time together. She’s not even trying with him, and he’s given up too.

They’ve been together for over thirty years, and it’s sad to see their relationship go up in flames because of me. I’ve never felt guiltier than I do now about their situation. If I just married Xander like the obedient daughter I was raised to be, this wouldn’t be an issue.

But I can’t.

“I finally got to meet Malachi!” Molly announces, stealing everyone’s attention. “He’s taller in person.”

Mom glares at me. “What is she talking about?”

My shoulder lifts. “I don’t see the issue. He’s her big brother.”

She grimaces then her gaze drops back to her phone. Molly glances at me, confused and unsure, but then Dad breaks the awkwardness.