Blood from old and new wounds spread across Michael’s white shirt like a blooming crimson rose. I smiled.
Yes, I had always preferred roses.
“Rachel, have you calmed down? Will you tell me where Olivia is now?”
Michael groaned, sweat dripping from his brow.
I twisted the scissors in his chest.
“And if I say no?”
“Rachel Evans, you—”
“Mr. Carter, Miss Olivia has been found!”
Before Michael could finish, one of his men rushed in.
The instant Olivia’s name was mentioned, light flickered in Michael’s shadowed eyes. He yanked the scissors from his chest and flung them to the ground.
The sharp clatter echoed like the shattering of my heart.
“Rachel Evans.”
At the doorway, he paused, his voice colder than ice.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this. I hope it really had nothing to do with you.”
Olivia was brought back, one hand bandaged, her tearful face pressed against Michael’s chest.
He sat across from me, half his face hidden in shadow. His voice was low.
“Rachel, why?”
His fingers tapped the marble tabletop, a habit whenever he tried to suppress his anger.
I took a drag from my cigarette, then snuffed it out.
“So, Michael, you think this was me?”
“If not you, then who else?”
“She’s just a young girl. I’m the one who’s guilty, not her. Whatever you have against me, take it out on me. Why hurt her again and again?”
Michael tightened his hold around Olivia. The diamond ring on his long fingers glinted like a knife to my chest.
I remembered that rainy night years ago, when I was ambushed and bleeding out. He had shielded me, shouting:
“A group of men ganging up on one woman? Come at me instead!”
That night, he saved me. That night, I gave myself to him.
But now, those same words were spoken for another woman.
I said nothing. I walked into the kitchen.
When I returned, I slammed Olivia’s uninjured hand onto the table. Before anyone could react, the knife came down, piercing through her hand.
“Ahhh—!”
Olivia’s shriek tore through the air.
“Michael, I, Rachel Evans, don’t deny what I do. Since you claim it was me, then I’ll make it true.”
“As for your dog—”
I arched a brow at Olivia’s bandaged arm.
“She knows best how she got that injury.”
I ripped the knife free, blood splattering across me.
“Filthy.”
I tossed the knife aside and turned to change clothes. But Michael’s men restrained me.
“Rachel, this is the second time!”
Michael picked up the knife, striding toward me.
“So what if it’s the second time?”
I looked straight at him, yanking free of his men and rubbing my sore wrist.
“What is it, Michael? You want revenge?”
I placed my hand on the table.
