Page 5 of Ivory Sins
“What do you think you're doing?” she demands, her voice low and even.
The rage that laced her tone throws me off for a moment and I'm quick to get a hold of myself. “I'm doing my job,” I say, daring to meet her blazing eyes.
“Your job?” She lets out a dismissive scoff, a glint of irritation flashing across her face. “Your job is to keep me safe, not to go snooping around my place.”
Olivia walks past me and pushes the shelf back to where it was, concealing the hidden safe. “Stick to what you're being paid to do,” she hissed.
Her words cut. But then again, I guess I deserve this treatment and maybe even more.
“Apologies,” I say, watching her walk back to the couch.
She ignores and when she's about to sit, I dare to ask, “What's in the safe?”
Her expression darkens, and her brows furrow, forming deep creases between them.
Yup. I just struck a nerve and now I regret why I asked.
She returns to stand in front of me, her footsteps slow and menacing.
Her eyes narrow as she casts a stern glare at me.
“What gives you the right to question me…?” she begins, her voice low and dripping with venom, “You walked out of my life three years, Marco. No word, no heads-up…nothing,” her words are spoken with a deliberate slowness that makes myheart race. “And now you've returned and think you can just ask questions?”
“I only wanted to know what's in the safe,” I say without breaking eye contact.
“That’s none of your business,” she growls.
My hands rise defensively. “Okay, okay…”
She's so upset and delicate. I have to be smart in handling this situation.
“Look, I know you're angry…” I start, my voice low and even.
“Angry?” She cocks her head to the side, taking a step closer. “Oh, I'm not angry, Marco—I'm fucking furious!” She adds the last sentence through gritted teeth.
A single vein lines her forehead and her jaw tightens while her eyes turn crimson-red.
Boy, she's not kidding.
“I understand,” I say softly, choosing my next words carefully. “Olivia, I can explain…”
“You didn't explain three years ago when I would've loved to listen,” she replies, calmer now, but with disdain flickering inher gaze. “Don't waste your time explaining now. You won't have my attention.”
She sizes me up with her eyes, then walks away.
I smooth my hair backwards, fingers scratching my scalp as I curse myself quietly. I was in deeper shit than I thought, and all I can think about now is how to get out of this mess.
The hatred in Olivia's eyes is a challenge, one that I plan to take on.
Later that night, as I sit in my room, going over the live footage of the house, I catch her on camera sneaking out of the building.
Where is she going dressed up in a black hoodie?
From the screen, I watch her look around as if to be sure no one is watching.
“What're you up to, Olivia?” I say out loud.
She leaves the house in a hurry and I know that's the cue. So, I get out of my chair, grab my jacket and follow her.
