Page 49 of When Hearts Unravel (The Orchid #6)

She looks glorious.

I froze in my tracks when I saw her the moment I walked into the ballroom. She was the beacon of the lighthouse on a stormy night. It was impossible to look anywhere else.

The purple dress clings to her figure, held together by two tiny spaghetti straps. I could chew them off and watch the top slide to her waist, baring her exquisite tits. Then there’s the thigh-high slit showing a sliver of leg, which I remember digging into my back as I fucked her senseless.

It was almost impossible to leave her in bed this morning.

She looked so content, a happy, sleepy kitten curled up next to me, her body marred with marks from our lovemaking last night.

When I pulled away, she whimpered. It took Herculean effort to put distance between us because there were more things at stake.

Dangerous things.

I didn’t want to drag her into the mission in case everything went sideways. And so, I put the shackles over my heart, telling myself this vacation, this slice of paradise, was over.

I thought I was setting her free.

But sirens don’t just let you walk away. Even when they try, their song lingers.

Calliope tried to save her lover and still lost him.

And Olivia—the way she lit into Greg Masters? It almost dragged me straight back to her.

I wanted to kill the man when he singled her out, when I saw the panic in her eyes.

I wanted to bash him over the head with his precious camera, then I’d slowly strangle him with the strap.

But then she spoke up, loud and clear, in a way the past Olivia couldn’t.

She stood tall and confident, her brow elegantly arched, the perfect amount of haughtiness in her voice.

A different impulse rushed through me then. My dick twitched, quickly forming a half-semi, and if it weren’t for Gracie or Charlene—or whatever their names were—clinging to me like deadweight, I would’ve rushed over, pulled Olivia into my arms, and kiss the daylights out of her.

Give the crowd a show they’d never forget.

“Rex, is it true you’ve once fucked five women at once?” the redhead next to me asks. She’s a top influencer model in the region, one of the reasons I chose her to be part of my distraction tactic today.

“I heard it was ten,” the raven-haired beauty murmurs before blowing kisses to the reporters who are still snapping photos.

“A gentleman never kisses and tells.” I lead them to the center of the room as the orchestra strikes up a tune and we dance.

“Will you show us later?” The redhead slides her hand inside my tux jacket, blatantly feeling me up.

Acid rushes up my esophagus, and my hackles rise. I want to yank her hand out and push her away.

But I don’t. Because this is the plan Elias came up with. This is the perfect distraction, the perfect cover.

The world is watching us, leaving Bree to follow the plan—meet Elias’s contact at the back side entrance.

So, I throw my head back and laugh, drawing more attention to us.

Incessant camera flashes blind my eyes, the shutter sounds a riot in my ears, but I pull the ladies closer to me, ignoring the clench of my heart, the way it’s tearing at the pain I saw in Olivia’s face just now before she put her mask on.

She doesn’t know I’m doing this to protect her.

Doubt niggles inside me. This morning, I thought it was best to keep her in the dark.

I was keeping her safe.

But now, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve made a big mistake.

The ladies giggle as I twirl them one by one, dipping them outrageously low toward the floor, making sure to throw in a few flirtatious winks to the reporters and other women in the crowd.

Rex-a-Million is back in service.

The world spins around me, a swirl of rainbow colors washed in gold, but I search for that deep purple, that petite figure poured into silk.

I don’t see her.

She’s gone. She’s finally given up on me.

My lungs heave in ragged breaths, my body almost caving from the sudden liver punch as the revelation hammers into my mind like a freshly handed death sentence for a convict.

This is what you wanted, Rex. It’s for the best. The memories will live forever in your mind.

The healing tattoo itches, reminding me that my Olive is permanently inked to my skin.

Someday, if I’m lucky, if I can be normal again, I’ll find her.

I’ll beg her to take me back.

Cheers erupt in the crowd as I execute a few complicated dance moves, my hips and body working the floor on autopilot.

But I’m not here. Not really.

In my mind, I’m dancing with a certain raven-haired doctor, tornadoes and hurricanes raging around me, but I don’t care.

She’d stare at me with those trusting, soulful eyes, her lips curving before the cutest laughter escapes from them. At that moment, I’d be the motherfucking king of the world because I made her laugh.

In my mind, I’m in my forever—where I’m just Rex and she’s just my Olive.

And we’re happy.

The imaginary moment is so perfect, it almost feels fragile.

Then the room plunges into darkness.

Sharp sounds crack through the air. My body reacts before my mind does.

Gunshots.

Olive.

People slam into me, bloodcurdling screams rippling through the room.

“Gunmen. Run!” someone yells.

The women on my arms flee for the exit. But I stay rooted, scanning the chaos.

Where is she? Fuck. Please let her be okay.

It’s too dark. Too many shapes moving, shifting, crashing into one another.

Utter chaos. Madness.

My eyes sweep the room again. I don’t see Olivia or Lana anywhere.

Or Bree.

Fuck. The mission. The Association must be here for Bree.

Bang!

More gunshots. More screams.

Icy panic floods my veins as I push through the crowds in the dark, guided only by the pulsing red emergency lights.

The side exit. The meeting spot.

“Olivia! Bree!” I holler, the sound of my voice swallowed by terror.

Dread rises like a tsunami inside me.

Bang!

More cries. People trample over each other, running for the exits.

I brace myself against a game table, my head jerking, eyes scanning.

That distinct shade of purple. The waitstaff uniform. Anything.

I’ll die if anything happens to Olivia. I can’t let anything happen to her. I also can’t let anything happen to Bree. Raya’s tragic ending can’t repeat itself tonight.

Then, just as panic pulls me under—

I see her.

Olivia in the far corner. Alarm on her elfin features.

Someone’s dragging her through a door.

A waitstaff uniform.

Bree.

I break into a run.

And then a stampede barrels into my path.