Chapter 40
Laura sweeps into the restaurant like a storm, her eyes blazing past the murmuring patrons as she heads for a shadowed corner. Dropping her sleek black Prada purse onto the table with a definitive thud, she sinks into her seat. Without hesitation, she grabs the glass filled with vodka and downs its contents in one fierce gulp—a desperate replacement for her once timid cup of tea, now far too weak to embolden her to speak to the one person from whom she desperately needs help.
"Laura." His voice slips into the room like velvet, yet crackling with intensity. Laura rises and spins to face him, forcing a smile that barely masks her inner turmoil. "Hollis, it's so good to see you," she says, her tone laced with calculated resolve.
Hollis strides toward her and wraps her in a tight, almost desperate embrace, punctuating it with a rapid kiss on her cheek. "It's been too long. Is this a business matter or something personal?" he asks, seating himself and fixing her with a piercing glare.
"Business," Laura replies, voice firm. "I have news you need to hear."
He leans back slightly as he swirls the scotch in his glass, taking measured sips. "I'm all ears," he prompts.
"I know who killed Axel." The words burst from her lips with uncharacteristic boldness.
Hollis sets his glass down hard on the table, leaning forward as if to physically draw the truth out of her. "My son, Axel?"
"Yes." Laura crosses a crisp white napkin over her lap as if bracing herself for the fallout.
"How long have you known this?" he demands, eyes locked onto hers.
Laura's gaze falls, heavy with secret burdens, as she lifts her glass. "It's a recent development," she confesses softly.
"Go on." Hollis's intensity swells, his eyes burning into hers for the truth.
"Mellie... she pulled the trigger."
"Mellie?" Hollis exclaims, a bitter exhalation escaping him as he gulps the remaining scotch. "How did you uncover it was her?"
"My security team," Laura states coldly.
"I blamed Fitzgerald for years. He had the motive," Hollis admits, the tension in his voice thick with disbelief.
"Just as Mellie did. Axel killed both of their fathers," Laura counters quietly, staring down at her plate as if it held all of her anguish. "I still can't understand why you let him murder Gerry. He was your only son."
Hollis's eyes darken with regret and defiance. "I made the ultimate sacrifice for you, Laura. I've loved you since high school. You know that." He leans back, a storm of unresolved emotions swirling behind his calm exterior.
"Your son, Hollis," she challenges, her tone trembling with fury and sorrow.
With a raw, almost primal intensity, Hollis drains his drink, tapping the glass against the table until the waiter rushes from the back and refills it. "Axel would have done anything to prove he was worthy of my love. I knew it when I assigned him that dangerous task. But I still have not won the prize. And tell me, how's William holding up?"
"William is ornamental. Fitz would never accept us, Hollis," Laura snaps, her voice frayed with bitter honesty.
"There's so much Fitz wouldn't approve of," Hollis replies, scrubbing away the bitter residue from his mouth with a swipe of his hand. "When will I ever get my chance?"
Laura's exhale is heavy and resigned. "Fitz's happiness is my top priority, Hollis. Are you going to take care of Mellie, or not?" She stands, tossing the napkin onto the table with a finality that echoes like a gavel.
"I'll deal with Mellie," Hollis vows, his voice low and fierce.
"One more thing." Laura glances back over her shoulder, her expression hardening. "Leave Gregory alone. He's family."
Hollis's lips twist into a wry, intense chuckle. "The lengths I go for you, Laura."
X
Fitz stands at the expansive window in his dimly lit office, his eyes fixed on a cityscape blurred by the late-night rain while his anger simmers beneath the surface like a pot ready to boil over. The silence inside is punctuated only by the soft hum of the air conditioning as he storms over to the makeshift bar. With a heavy, deliberate motion, he mixes a drink—a dark, potent concoction that mirrors the brooding turmoil inside him—and downs it in a single, desperate gulp. His face is drawn and tired, the ghostly evidence of a night spent wide awake and haunted by restless demons.
Throughout the long, troubled night, his eyes had been fixed on Olivia, silently observing her every move, terrified of facing another unpredictable nightmare.
The creak of the office door breaks his spiraling thoughts. Mellie enters, her presence both unexpected and disarming, a large, gaudy pink suitcase trailing behind her like an unwelcome reminder of the chaos she carries. "My flight is in a couple of hours," she declares coolly, her voice laced with urgency and the edge of impending confrontation. "You wanted to see me."
Fitz, still trembling with unresolved fury, pours himself another drink as he gestures stiffly toward a chair. "Have a seat," he says, his voice strained and low.
"Day drinking is beneath you," Mellie huffs, her tone dripping with irritation and theatrical disdain.
In a fit of exasperation, Fitz slams an USB onto the scarred wooden table between them, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits as he fixes Mellie with an angry glare. "Shut up, Mellie," he snaps, his patience thinning.
Startled, Mellie jolts, her chair clattering backwards as she recoils from his sudden outburst. "What's wrong? What lie has Olivia told you now?" she retorts, her voice rising in pitch with a mix of indignation and hurt.
Fitz, his hand trembling slightly as he picks up the USB once more, states coldly, "This is from Hazel. Tell me, is it true that you asked for the sex tape she had of me and her?"
Mellie crosses her arms tightly over her chest, her expression hardening as she meets his gaze. "Yes," she admits, each word measured like a knife slicing through the charged atmosphere.
"Why?" he demands, his tone mingling disbelief and anger.
With purposeful deliberation, Mellie stands and saunters toward him, the click of her heels punctuating the charged silence. "I did it for you." she declares, the statement hanging in the air like a dark promise.
"Bullshit!" Fitz roars suddenly, his voice echoing off the sterile walls. "You wanted to tear apart me and Olivia!"
In an explosive surge of emotion, Mellie screams back, her voice cracking with raw anguish. "I'm so tired of hearing her fucking name!" she shouts, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Taking a step back as the tension escalates, Fitz watches uncertainly as Mellie intensifies her tirade. "Olivia…Olivia…Olivia," she taunts in a mocking cadence. "God, her name is so fucking annoying. I've been by your side for the longest time, until she showed up. Now you don't have time for me. You've pushed me aside. You married her and left me stranded by the wayside. I won't stand for it, Fitzgerald."
"Tough shit, Mellie," he retorts sharply, his tone as cold as the scotch in his glass. With calculated indifference, he tosses a worn copy of his father's will onto the table. "This is where you get off the Grant ride."
Mellie's eyes scan the document hungrily before darting back to Fitz with a mixture of betrayal and fury. "What are you talking about?" she demands, her voice quivering with disbelief. "Is it true? Olivia gets everything and I get nothing?" Her rage intensifies as she reaches into her purse and produces a small, menacing gun, its cold metal glinting under the harsh fluorescent light.
Fits takes a few hurried steps back, his voice rising as he shouts, "Mellie, put the gun down!"
"No," she replies, her hand trembling uncontrollably as she steadies the weapon and then shifts it toward him, her eyes welling with tears that betray the pain beneath her anger. "What am I supposed to do now, Fitz?"
His heart races as he pleads, "Look, I'll give you whatever you want," his words rushed, desperate, as his thoughts spin wildly, praying that Olivia doesn't burst into his office at this explosive moment.
With raw vulnerability, Mellie confesses, stepping closer with an intensity fueled by years of suppressed longing. "I want to be in your life, Fitzgerald. I want to be more than just your business partner," she declares, her voice softening momentarily despite the turmoil.
Fitz takes a deep, measured breath, his eyes never leaving hers as he responds carefully, "I'm married to Olivia, Mellie. I can't give you that. I thought you liked Olivia," he questions, his tone laced with bewilderment and sorrow.
A smirk tugs at the corner of her lips as she admits, "I wanted her to be like the other women, easy to manipulate. And she wasn't." Her words are laced with a bitter irony that stings like acid.
His brow furrows as he presses further, "Is that how you got rid of the other women I was dating?"
Her response is swift and laden with pragmatic cruelty. "I pretended to like them, acted as if I were their friend and then, bam—I'd show them a picture of you with another woman or concoct some bullshit lie, and before you knew it, you'd get tired of them and dump them," Mellie explains, each word dripping with calculated malice.
"What about Victoria? She was around for a long time," Fitz inquires, his voice barely concealing a mix of anger and disbelief.
Mellie shrugs nonchalantly before replying with a cold, matter-of-fact tone, "I saw the way Drew watched her, and I knew eventually he'd fuck her, and in turn, it would fuck up your precious friendship. If it weren't for those damn business deals you had with Victoria's father, I would have been able to get rid of her a long time ago."
"Give me the gun, Mellie," Fitz demands, his voice steady yet tinged with urgency.
"Did you ever see me, Fitzgerald, or think about being with me?" Mellie questions, her eyes searching his for a truth she already knows.
Fitz scrunches up his face, his brow furrowing as he admits, "No, I only saw you as a friend."
Mellie sighs, a deep, weary sound that seems to echo the disappointment in her heart. "I was hoping you would eventually see me as more than a friend, but that won't happen now that Olivia is in your life. You've stripped everything from me. This is a problem for me."
"What do you want me to do?" Fitz asks, his voice softer now, almost pleading.
"Get rid of Olivia," Mellie demands, her voice sharp and unyielding.
"No," Fitz retorts, his tone firm. "Give me the gun, Mellie."
"No." Mellie strides toward him, the gun trembling slightly in her grip as she points it at his heart. "If I shoot you in the heart, Olivia won't be able to have it anymore."
Fitz swallows hard, his throat tight with fear and determination. He moves slowly toward Mellie, extending his hand, his gaze fixed on her trembling fingers. "Just give me the gun, Mels. I won't tell anyone about today. I'll give you the money you need to start your own business. I'll still support you."
"Nooooo!" Mellie shouts, her voice cracking with emotion as she charges toward Fitz, the gun shaking violently in her hand as she pulls the trigger.
The sharp crack of a gunshot shatters the tense silence, reverberating through the office like a thunderclap.
"Fitz!" Olivia screams, bursting through the door, her eyes wide with horror as she takes in the scene.
The charged silence that follows is punctuated only by the steady drip of rain outside.
X
"We should call the ambulance," Olivia says tenderly, her voice a soothing balm as she presses the cool, damp washcloth against his skin, trying to stanch the bleeding.
"The bullet just grazed my skin, sweetheart. I'm fine," Fitz assures her, though his voice carries a hint of strain, a testament to the pain he's trying to downplay.
Olivia cups his cheeks with gentle hands, her fingers trembling slightly as she kisses him multiple times, as if each tender touch could ward off the reality of what just happened.
Huck bursts back into the room, his presence a whirlwind of energy. "Mellie has been detained, Sir," he announces, his tone clipped and efficient.
"Good," Fitz replies, wincing as he struggles to rise from the couch, every movement a symphony of discomfort.
"Fitz, we should go to the hospital," Olivia insists, her eyes filled with a mix of worry and determination.
Huck steps forward, carefully removing the cloth to reveal the wound beneath. He places his red toolbox on the table with a soft thud and extracts a pair of pristine white bandages and a bottle of antiseptic. With practiced precision, he cleanses the wound and applies the bandage, a white line against the angry red of Fitz's skin. "He'll be fine," Huck assures Olivia, meeting her gaze with unwavering confidence. "I've contacted your mother, and she knows what happened today. The staff has been sent home."
"Drive us home, please," Fitz requests, his voice weary but resolute.
Huck nods, retrieving his red toolbox and preparing to leave.
"Let's go home," Fitz murmurs softly, his lips brushing against Olivia's in a gentle kiss, a promise of safety and solace as they prepare to depart.
X
"I almost lost you today." Olivia says sitting on the edge of the bed, gliding lotion up and down her legs. She looks over at Fitz with a sad expression.
He walks to her and kneels between her legs. "You didn't."
She runs her hands down his cheeks, "If I would have lost you…"
Fitz places his finger on her lips before kissing her gently. "You didn't."
Fitz stands there, his body a fucking sculpture of raw masculinity, every muscle taut, every vein screaming with pent-up desire. Olivia's finger traces the scar on his skin where the bullet grazed, her touch feather-light but electric. Her eyes lock onto his, a hungry, primal connection that sets the room on fire. With a slow, deliberate motion, she peels her silk gown over her head, letting it pool at her feet like a discarded dream. Her fingers glide over his chest, mapping every ridge, every curve of his abs, her nails dragging just enough to make him hiss. Her fingertips tease his nipples, rolling them between her fingers until they're hard little pebbles. His dick twitches violently in his silk pajama pants, straining against the fabric like it's trying to break free.
Her lips find the scar again, kissing it softly, her tongue flicking out to taste his skin. "I love you," she whispers, her voice dripping with need.
Fitz shudders, his hands moving to cup her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. He takes a step back, his eyes raking over her body like he's devouring her with his gaze. Her skin is the color of melted chocolate, smooth and flawless, begging to be touched, tasted, marked. His hands slide down her sides, cupping her ass, squeezing the firm globes with a growl of approval. His mouth latches onto her nipple, sucking it deep, his tongue flicking over the hardened bud until she's arching her back, her fingers tangling in his hair.
Her pussy is already soaked, her juices dripping down her thighs, the scent of her arousal thick in the air. Fitz's finger sneaks between her legs, sliding through her slick folds, circling her clit with practiced precision. Olivia whimpers, her head dropping to his shoulder as he dips a finger inside her, curling it just right to make her cry out. The sound of her wetness is obscene, a filthy symphony of desire.
"Is all that for me?" he growls, lifting her chin to capture her lips in a searing kiss.
"Yessss," she hisses, her body trembling as her orgasm begins to crest. "Make me cum, Fitz."
"Open for me."
Without hesitation, Olivia spreads her legs, her fingers tangling in Fitz's hair as he drops to his knees before her. His tongue flicks out, lapping at her clit, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves until she's writhing against his face. He spreads her pussy lips wide, his tongue delving deep, licking and sucking like a man possessed. Her legs shake uncontrollably as he buries his face in her, his tongue fucking her with relentless precision. Her orgasm hits her like a freight train, her body convulsing as she screams his name.
Fitz rises to his feet, his lips glistening with her juices. He kisses her deeply, forcing her to taste herself on his tongue. "Good girl," he murmurs, his hand sliding down to stroke his dick through the thin fabric of his pants. Precum soaks the silk, a blatant testament to how much he wants her.
Olivia drops to her knees again, her mouth wrapping around his dick. She sucks him deep, taking every inch until his tip hits the back of her throat. Her tongue swirls around the veins, her lips sliding up and down his shaft with perfect rhythm.
"I'm going to fuck your face," he growls, gripping her hair and taking control. His dick pistons in and out of her mouth, the sound of her gagging only fueling his desire. "Swallow every drop."
Olivia moans around him, her fingers finding their way back to her pussy, sliding in and out as she pleasures herself. Fitz watches her, his dick throbbing. The first spurt of cum hits the back of her throat, and she swallows greedily, taking every drop as he empties himself into her mouth.
He pulls out with a groan, smearing the last bit of cum across her lips like her favorite lip gloss. "You're so goddamn sexy," he mutters, his dick still twitching with residual pleasure.
Olivia rises to her feet, licking her lips as Fitz walks over to the dresser and retrieves a bottle of lube. He pops the cap open, the sound echoing in the silent room.
"Baby, you're big," Olivia whispers, biting her lip as she eyes his dick bouncing with each step.
"I'll go slow," he promises, pouring lube onto his fingers, then his dick. "Have you done this before?"
She shakes her head no, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement.
"Good," he says with a wicked grin. "I'm your first."
Olivia turns around, presenting her ass to him like an offering. Fitz smacks one cheek hard, making her moan, teasing the tight ring of her asshole with slow, deliberate strokes. One finger slips inside, followed by another, stretching her open with care. He scissors his fingers, working her loose until she's whimpering with need.
"Ahhh, it feels good," she moans, pushing back against his hand.
Fitz kisses her shoulder, lining his dick up with her tight hole. "Relax for me," he murmurs, pressing the tip against the entrance. She tenses instinctively, but he soothes her with soft kisses along her spine. "It's going to hurt at first, but I promise it'll feel so good once I'm all the way inside you."
Olivia nods, taking deep breaths as Fitz pushes forward. The tip of his dick disappears into her ass, stretching her impossibly wide. He groans loudly, the tight heat of her ass almost too much to handle. He pushes deeper inch by inch until he's fully sheathed inside her.
"Fuck," he growls, gripping her hips tightly. "You feel so goddamn good."
Olivia moans long and low, the pain giving way to pleasure as Fitz begins to move. He sets a slow rhythm at first, letting her adjust to his size before picking up the pace. His dick glides in and out of her ass with ease, each thrust driving him deeper into her tight hole.
"Play with yourself," he commands, his voice rough with desire.
Olivia's fingers find their way to her clit, rubbing fast circles as Fitz fucks her ass with increasing intensity. She cries out as another orgasm rips through her body, her ass clenching around Fitz's dick like a vice.
"Fuck yes," he groans, slamming into her harder. "You're so fucking tight."
His balls slap against her ass as he pounds into her with reckless abandon. Olivia's moans fill the room as she comes again and again on his dick. Fitz can feel his own orgasm building, his thrusts becoming erratic as he gets closer to the edge.
"I'm gonna cum," he warns, gripping her hips tightly as he buries himself to the hilt. His dick pulses inside her ass as he releases stream after stream of hot cum deep inside her.
Olivia collapses onto the mattress as Fitz slowly pulls out of her ass. A river of cum trickles down her thighs as he admires the mess he's made of her.
"Beautiful," he murmurs before scooping her up and carrying her to the bathroom for a well-deserved shower.