Page 39 of Twisted Secrets (The O’Malleys #3)

S ergei turned around the empty apartment, cursing in Russian.

The only evidence that someone had lived there was a half-full laundry basket and some mostly clean dishes in the sink.

There was nothing to indicate where Olivia had gone.

Nothing . Certain he’d missed something, he stalked through the tiny space again, but it was just like the first two times, and no new evidence magically showed up. “Fucking bitch.”

Bad enough that she’d run before. He could almost understand it in the wake of how things went down with Andrei.

The entire family had been in turmoil, and that meant everyone connected with them was off, too.

But to run now, when Dmitri had specifically hunted her down to bring her home? Un-fucking-forgivable.

Dmitri.

He had to report, and he had to do it soon.

Failure burned his throat like acid, rage creating a buzzing in his ears that was almost welcome.

I’ll find you, Olivia. And when I do, I’m making damn sure that you’re not walking away from me again .

He’d tried to be patient. He’d tried to be understanding. But nothing had changed.

And now she was fucking that bastard O’Malley.

He could have forgiven her even that. It would have been damn near impossible, but he could have. But she’d gone and run from him.

Obviously it was time to take a firmer hand with her. She’d always been rebellious. He’d seen it from the time he first started noticing her when she hit sixteen and seemed to turn into a beautiful woman overnight.

Sergei could take strong measures when given the motivation—something she’d just done. If she needed a harsh hand to bring her back to heel, he’d be more than happy to give it to her.

He heard a sound and spun around. The ancient bitch from next door stood in the hallway, glaring at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Where is she?”

“Gone, and out of your control. You’ll never get your filthy hands on her again.”

Red danced across his vision. This old bat knew something. He was sure of it. If Olivia trusted her enough to watch Hadley, she would trust her enough to tell her where she’d hid away like a rat fleeing a sinking ship. “Where. Is. She?” Each word was a step forward.

The woman realized the danger too late. Her eyes went wide and she tried to duck back into her apartment. Sergei caught the door before it could shut. “You will tell me where she is.”

“I don’t know.” She dove for the phone.

He ripped it out of her hands. He closed her apartment door behind him and locked it, the sound of the bolt sliding home a click of finality. He needed to find his Olivia, and this woman was the key to doing so. “Now, now. We’re having such a nice chat. Let’s not end it so soon, da ?”

***

After getting Hadley fed, dressed, and set up playing in the grass in the backyard, Olivia turned to Cillian.

“What do we need to talk about?” Was he already regretting the sex last night?

She really, really hoped not, because it had been quite possibly the single hottest night of her life.

Even with everything else going on around them, she wanted more.

He looked so serious, her heart lurched. “What’s going on?”

“I need you to hear me out before you react. Can you trust me enough to do that?”

Nothing good starts out this way . She did her best to quell her knee-jerk reaction. He hadn’t done anything to make her question him up to this point. The least she could do was give him the benefit of the doubt for a single conversation. She held her breath and nodded.

He didn’t seem any more reassured than she did. “You know this is one of my family’s homes, and I’m using their resources to guard us.”

Don’t react. Do not react. Hear him out . “I’m aware.”

“You also know we have a history with the Romanovs.” He held up a hand, obviously reading the distress she could feel working through her.

“I’m not plotting or planning or going to use you against them.

Breathe. There’d be no damn point of getting you out of town if I was asshole enough to dangle you like bait in front of Dmitri Romanov. That’s not what I’m saying.”

Her fear took hold of her vocal cords. “Why not? It’d be a smart thing to do, and you’d probably be a hero to the O’Malleys.”

His brows slanted down. “Sweetheart, I don’t need to be a damn hero for anyone.

I can be a cold bastard sometimes, but if you missed the fact that I care about your contrary ass, you’re being intentionally thick.

” He shook his head. “What I’m asking you is permission to give my family the heads-up that the Romanovs are in town and gunning for us. ”

Permission. She waited, but he didn’t say anything else—anything beyond the fact that he cared about her too much to use her as bait or leverage, and that he was asking her before he so much as talked to his family about a very real threat that she had brought to their front doorstep.

Olivia Rashidi, you are an idiot. She cleared her throat. “That’s it?”

He nodded. “I can’t promise they won’t want more information, but I won’t tell them anything you don’t want me to.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and watched Hadley toddle through the long grass. Someone must be on the payroll to keep this place maintained, because the longer she was here, the more sure she was that this was all a dream. It was too damn good to be true.

Just like the man next to her.

Finally, she huffed out a breath. “Tell them what you think they need to know. As much as I want to stay under the radar, if I’d wanted to keep you and the rest of the O’Malleys out of it, I never should have called you.”

“Olivia.” He grabbed her hand. From the look on his face, he wanted to pull her into his arms, but he glanced at Hadley and just squeezed instead. “I’m glad you called. Never think otherwise.”

How could she argue with him when he was looking at her like that?

She couldn’t.

She opened her mouth to say…God, she wasn’t even sure…but her phone chose that moment to ring. With a frown, she hurried over to where she’d left it inside the screened porch. It was a Boston number, but not one she recognized. “Hello?”

“Is this Olivia Rashidi?” A woman’s voice, somehow managing to be both apologetic and official at the same time.

What the hell? “Yes?”

“We have you listed as Deborah Richards’s emergency contact. Does that sound right?”

She blindly reached for the doorframe as the room went sideways on her. Mrs. Richards . “Is she okay? What’s going on?”

“There was an attack last night—a home invasion. I don’t have the specifics, but she’s in the hospital right now.

” The woman paused, as if realizing just how cold she sounded.

“She’s going to be okay. She’s suffering from several broken bones and a few other minor injuries, but she should make a full recovery. ”

Broken bones. Home invasion. Olivia tried to focus. What are the chances this is a coincidence? “Is she awake? Can I talk to her?”

“She’s under heavy sedation at the moment, but she should be waking up in the next hour or so. She was incredibly determined to call you when she was brought in—she tried to refuse surgery until someone would give her a phone.”

Not a coincidence, then . The only thing that would make Mrs. Richards that determined to get a hold of Olivia was if she had something important to tell her—to warn her about. “Thank you for calling me.”

“My name is Jessica Randolph. I’ll be on shift for the next few hours, so feel free to call and ask for me if you have any questions or concerns.

” She sounded like she was reading off a script.

It was enough to make Olivia wonder how often this woman had been forced to make calls like this.

Probably too many times. “She’s a nice old lady. Stubborn, but nice.”

“Thank you. I’ll call to check on her in a little bit.”

“Great. Have a good day.”

Having a good day after receiving this news was impossible.

She hung up and carefully set her phone down, even though she wanted to throw it across the room.

The only reason she’d brought the damn thing in the first place was so Mrs. Richards or Benji could get a hold of her in case of an emergency.

She just hadn’t thought that there would be an emergency.

Or that she’d be the cause of it.

“What’s wrong?”

She went to Cillian and wrapped her arms around him.

After half a second, he returned the embrace, holding her so tightly, it was hard to draw a breath.

It was exactly what she needed. She buried her face in his chest, trying to stop the shaking starting in her body, but it was no use.

“It’s my neighbor, Mrs. Richards. She was attacked sometime last night. ”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s my fault.” She hugged him tighter. “She was brought to the hospital, and even though she had broken bones that needed surgery to fix, she was demanding to call me. The only reason she would do that was to warn me.”

She half expected him to tell her that she was being paranoid.

Hell, she kind of wanted him to. She really, really didn’t want this to be her fault.

Mrs. Richards was a friend and had been there for her since the day she moved in.

She had become like the mother Olivia always wished she had—at the very least, a beloved aunt.

For her to be hurt because of Olivia …God, she could barely breathe past the guilt.

Cillian stroked a hand over her hair. “Would they do something like this?”