“You’re right. It’s too clean. There’d be blood all over the walls and floor if this were their mess,” Matteo says.
Is he trying to make light of the situation? I don’t find his humor particularly funny.
I shoot him a look, and he merely shrugs. “What?” Matteo asks. “You don’t agree?”
“Call in one of our soldiers. I want to know without a doubt who was keeping tabs on Olivia and why,” I say. “Have them bring whoever it is in for questioning.”
I intend to sit in on the interrogation when it’s time.
* * *
Returning home, I make sure to pick up a few extra groceries on my way back and put everything away in the refrigerator.
There are barely two minutes to spare before I hear a car door slam outside.
It’s distant, barely audible, but I’m on high alert after today.
I glance out the window.
Olivia is approaching the gate, which is locked.
A few seconds later, my phone buzzes with a text message from her.
I’m here.
This time I don’t go outside. I grab the remote and unlock the wrought-iron gate, allowing Olivia entrance inside the property.
Once I’m satisfied that she’s inside the gate and no one follows her, I hit the button and begin to close the gate. It does have the ability to close on its own, but I don’t want to allow anyone the opportunity inside my property that doesn’t belong.
Especially since someone seems to be watching Olivia.
Is it because she works for me?
Whoever has been spying on her, do they think we’re in a relationship? Have they been waiting for me to show up for scandalous photos?
Well, there aren’t any.
There isn’t anything worthy of blackmail material.
I’ve been careful. I always have to be cautious around people, no matter where I’m at. Anyone could be recording what I say, watching what I do, and trying and entrap me.
I unlock the front door just as Olivia steps up onto the porch. I yank open the door, trying to appear casual about it, but my heart is jack hammering in my chest.
Why does she make me feel like this? Is it because she’s a woman and I’m a man?
Is it as simple as biology?
“Come inside,” I say and step aside to let her into the house.
“Thanks.”
She slips out of her shoes, leaving them at the front entrance. Olivia is far more relaxed than the last time she was in my home. That was months ago. It feels like a lifetime has passed. I keep waiting for the good news, hoping that she’ll tell me she’s pregnant, but I know it takes time.
She had to go in for medical tests, injections, procedures, and then we wait.
The waiting is excruciating.
Agonizing.