Page 87 of Brutal Prince

“Ollie, I’m supposed to be…” I paused. Ollie was not supposed know about any of this. It’s too risky.

“I know what you’re supposed to be doing, but you’re still fucking him, though, aren’t you.”

“That’s none of your business.” I turned my back on him to walk across the road.

“You can’t get a confession without fucking him?”

I felt a tug on my arm, propelling me backwards. “Ollie, stop it.”

“Talk to me,” his face two inches away from mine, the scent of beer and dope draped over me.

“I’m sorry. You know how this works.” My phone rang in my bag and my hand twitched to grab it.

“I know who he is,” he said, dragging me by the arm to an alleyway between two apartment blocks.

I remained quiet, plotting my escape, but his grip was tight on my arm.

“I know who and what Dominus really is,” he told me.

“Okay. Ollie you’re hurting me.”

“He’s only doing it to make me jealous. He has no feelings for you at all,” his voice gravely and mean.

“Ollie, you know that’s not why I’m doing this,” I argued.

“I don’t believe you. I think you’re getting off on it.”

“Ollie, let go of me,” I demanded, wrenching my arm from his grip, only for him to pin me against the dirty dumpster that reeked of fermented food and dog shit. I heard someone call my name. The girls. They obviously saw me walk out of the building and then disappear.

“I’m down here!” I call back.

Ollie slammed his hand over my mouth. “You’re not going anywhere until we have a little talk.”

“Stop right there,” I heard Lise Fontaine warn. I could hear them, but my head was jammed so hard against the dumpster I couldn’t turn it to see them.

“We’re having a private conversation,” he bit.

“It looks to me like Gretta doesn’t want to talk to you,” Lise said.

Ignoring them, he pressed his lips against my ear. “I’ve known all along who he is.”

“If you don’t let her go, I’m calling the police,” Lise cautioned.

He stretched his neck to the side until it cracked. “You ever wonder what happened to his younger brother? Ah now what was his name? Arthur, Arthur Wheeler. Son of the president of Kingston Valley University. Did anyone even care about the youngest son? I mean, did anyone even notice that he was gone?”

“I noticed,” I said into his clammy hot hand.

He cocked his head at me. “So, you knew?”

I nodded my head.

Once Delaney discovered Ollie Allot was born Arthur Oliver Wheeler we knew we had a problem. The feds were one-step ahead of everyone the entire time. That’s why we had to keep him out of it. That’s why he knew nothing about the FBI involvement and still must not know anything about the feds. Even now with his hand over my mouth, fists clenched in rage, I still couldn’t call on Delaney. I had to keep him thinking that we were under Mathias’ watch and oblivious to the truth.

“I asked after you constantly,” I told him.

I’d met Ollie a few times when I was twelve, before he was sent back to his aunt and uncle. He held little resemblance to the man towering over me today.

“Why were you sent away?”

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