Chapter 32: Malachi’s growing suspicions

Ivy’s pov

"The nerve of that woman," I grumbled, kicking a loose stone on the path back to the house. It skittered across the pristine gravel.

I had agreed to the housekeeper’s blackmail because, let’s face it, I had everything to lose. She held my entire future in her tiny conniving hands.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and a fresh wave of dread washed over me. Was it that blackmailer this time?

Oh, my goodness, was two blackmailers my new normal? I pulled the buzzing phone out with a trembling hand, but the screen showed a message from Emma, my friend from college.

GIRL! Long time no see! Thinking of coming back to Wisteria soon. You around?

"Oh, hell yes I am," I groaned. God, I had missed Emma so much.

Why did she have to move out of the country? Ever since she did, I had no one to confide in.

And I would. I walked past the trash can in the garden to see it was filled up and, with a sigh, grabbed the handle to wheel it to the incinerator miles away.

If I didn’t do it now, I would forget, and God forbid that I give the Knights any excuse for them to call the agency and then blow up my cover.

I dragged the heavy trash can on its squeaky wheels towards the garage. I would call Emma later. I needed someone to talk to before I went completely insane.

A loud, aggressive zooming sound filled the air, and I glanced up to see a motorcycle, its rider dressed in all black except for the bright golden curls glistening in the sunlight. He was heading straight for me.

I leaped out of the way, but the asshole followed my movement, veering the black Harley towards me. I abandoned the trash can and took off, screaming, "Malachi, it is not fucking funny!"

His cackle carried over the roar of the engine. He pursued me on the bike because he was an ass, easily closing the distance before pulling up alongside me.

In one quick movement, he scooped me up, dumping me onto the bike in front of him, zooming down the path by the garden, towards the back of the huge mansion.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" I ranted, twisting in his grasp as he accelerated. "I’m working! You’re disrupting my work!"

"Working?" he taunted, his voice a low rumble against my back.

"Is that what you call whoring it up with Roman at the Starlight Ball? I saw the pictures of the red carpet, little Ivy. Looked like you were having a lot of fun."

"I wasn’t- "I started, but my words morphed into a scream. "TREE!"

The bike was barreling straight towards a massive oak tree. Oh my god, this was it. This was the end.

Malachi pulled the brakes hard, the tires screeching as we stopped just inches from the trunk.

I was panting, my eyes wide with horror. I flew off the bike, spinning on him and spewing a string of curses. "Are you trying to kill me, you absolute psycho?"

He just smirked, swinging a leg over the bike to stand. "Have you done something to deserve being killed?" his tone was very light, but for a terrifying second, my blood ran cold.

Did he know? Did he know who I was?

But then he stepped forward, trying to tug me closer, and the tension dissolved into thin air. He was just being his usual, insufferable self.

I scoffed when he buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. "Hell, you smell so good," he murmured, his voice vibrating against my skin. "So familiar too."

Familiar? I swallowed hard, remembering the night of New Year’s Eve.

It wasn’t like I had changed my perfume, or soap, or body cream since then. I laughed nervously, trying to pull away. "A lot of girls smell like me- "

"No," He grumbled, sinking his face deeper. Then his lips were on my neck, sucking hard, a wet, possessive heat that shot straight to my core.

"Very fucking familiar. It’s been bothering me."

Shit, shit!

"Malachi," I gasped, pushing at his chest, but it was like trying to move a brick wall.

He pinned me against him, his teeth nipping and biting at my sensitive skin while my body writhed against him, a traitorous ache building between my legs.

His hand came between us to cover one of my palms, his large one covering mine. I stiffened when he interlocked his fingers with mine like he did that night and yanked my hand away from him as he burned me!

No. No way. If he found out it was me that night, then he would automatically find out my true identity.

"I don’t have time for this- Malachi, let go of my hand!" I gasped when he snatched my hand up in his again, his eyes narrowing as he brought my slender fingers to his lips, skimming his lips over them.

A shiver ran through me, and I closed my eyes briefly, reveling in the hot and heady sensations his lips left over my skin.

"Where did you spend your New Year’s Eve?"

My eyes flew open in horror. I backed away from him quickly, fighting the blush creeping up my cheeks with every single part of me. He couldn’t know. I couldn’t let him know.

"With family," I grumbled.

"Liar," He rasped, his voice washing over me as he yanked me back against him.

"I-I’m not lying."

"I feel like you are."

"Kai, stop, okay- "

"Stop?" he growled, his hand sliding down to grip my ass, pulling me flush against the hard ridge in his black jeans.

"Your body doesn’t want to stop. I can feel how hot you are through this little dress. Your pussy is soaked for me, little Ivy, and you fucking know it. Bet you wish Roman was doing this, huh? Bet he’s too much of a boy to leave a mark."

"Get your hands off Vivi, Kai! I saw her first today!"

We both glanced up to see Roman striding towards us, his hair damp, the curls dripping as he closed the gap between us. Thank God, I sighed in relief.

Malachi’s arms tightened around me while Roman grabbed my arm, wrenching me out of his brother’s hold. I never would have thought Roman was stronger than Malachi, considering how much he behaves like a child.

I couldn’t help it; a giggle escaped my lips when Roman pulled me free and scooped me up bridal style, running away from Malachi as if we were in some ridiculous romance movie.

Malachi cackled, revving his engine and turning the bike to chase after us. I found myself laughing along with them as Roman dodged and weaved until we were back in the mansion.

When I arrived at my room that evening, ready to pack up, a bouquet of blue roses was planted in a glass vase on my windowsill. My heart dropped to my stomach for a second.

For me. Roman had gotten those roses for me. My entire body went stiff as I approached the vase, lowering my face to smell the soft, pretty petals.

This was wrong. They shouldn’t be thawing my heart. They shouldn’t be interesting, or making me laugh... or getting me flowers, when one of them had threatened my father right before my very eyes, even if they had no idea who he was to me.

I snapped a rose off its twig and crushed it in my palm. I was only using them. Sex was just a tool to get what I wanted, and when I did—I tossed the crushed petals to the rug. That was all they would ever be to me.