other side of Anne, Ben cleared his throat. “Photos can be faked. Doesn’t take too much work, either.”
Olivia froze. “Faked?”
Two people slid onto the stools at her right—Ghost and Z.
Olivia turned to Z. “Was Natalia lying?”
His voice was gentle. “I think you already know the answer, Mistress Olivia.”
She closed her eyes for a moment as dismay swept through her. Because everything inside her said Natalia had spoken the truth.
“However, someone lied.” The Colonel studied Olivia with a hard, professional gaze. His anger was obvious but controlled. “I’m wondering who showed you the photo, and if they had a selfish reason.”
Olivia shook her head. “Chelsey. She came to me and said—”
“Chelsey, hmm?” Ghost gave her a grim nod and strode away.
Walked away.
Probably disgusted with the whole mess. Olivia stared down at her drink. Took a sip. Could barely swallow it. Had she jumped to a horribly wrong conclusion? Had she destroyed something so wonderful without even questioning it?
All because she was a fearful git who’d been burned in the past?
Eventually, she realized Anne was speaking, “What exactly did Chelsey say?”
“She wanted to play, and I told her I was in a committed relationship, and she asked why I was committed when Natalia wasn’t. Then she showed me the picture.”
“Do you have a copy?” Ben asked.
“No, no, of course not.”
“Mistress Olivia.” Ghost’s harsh voice broke in. “If the picture was so successful, I’m sure Chelsey kept it. Didn’t you, Chelsey?”
Olivia turned on her bar stool.
Chelsey stood there, shaking like a leaf.
Ghost gripped the young woman’s shoulder with one hand—and held a garishly decorated phone in the other. He must have taken Chelsey into the loo to retrieve the phone from her locker.
Olivia stared at Chelsey. “Show me the photo.”
“It’s not… I’m sure it’s gone. I wouldn’t have…”
With an annoyed sound, Ghost pressed Chelsey’s finger to the phone’s fingerprint scanner.
Chelsey made a sound and tried to back out of Ghost’s grip. He growled at her. “Kneel.”
The authority in his voice made Chelsey drop to her knees—and several other submissives struggled not to follow suit.
He studied the phone and swiped the screen a few times, then handed the phone to Olivia.
She winced. “Yes, that’s the one.”
Ben plucked the phone from her hand and studied the display, then angled it so she could see. “Look at the shadows down their bodies. You can see the light came from the right. But…notice the shadows on Natalia’s face—like beside her nose? There the light comes from the left.”
Olivia stiffened.
Ben magnified the photo, magnified it again, and handed the cell back. He hovered his finger over Natalia’s neck. “See how the skin texture has disappeared. It’s too smooth, and the pigment doesn’t quite match. Someone tried to blur the line where Natalia’s head was substituted for someone else’s.”
Olivia could see it now. “It’s not Natalia,” she whispered.
“No,” Anne said firmly. “It’s not.”
Olivia stared at the kneeling submissive.
Chelsey had gone dead white. “I…Mistress, it’s only because… I’m sorry, I…”
The anger filling Olivia was huge. Engulfing. Throttling it back, she asked Ghost, “Advice?”
He considered a moment. “Work things out with Natalia, and afterward, the two of you decide together what Chelsey deserves. Then talk with me”—he winced—“I mean, talk with Z.”
The pain in his expression broke through her anger.
She’d heard the bloody stupid rumors about him and could guess the originator. Wrecker. The arsehole was out to ruin a good Dom who was perfect for the job of managing the Shadowlands.
“Natalia and I will figure it out,” she growled at him, “and be back to talk with you. As for you, don’t be a plonker and quit on us.”
“Olivia—”
She held up her hand. “I have things to do.”
The hardarse actually chuckled. “Yes, you do.”
Turning her back on him, she pulled up “share” on the picture and sent herself a copy. Maybe it would keep Natalia from killing her dead.
After deleting the photo, she handed the phone to Chelsey. “You hurt two people very badly. Think on that for a while.”
As she stalked away, she heard Chelsey break into tears.
In their staging area of a bunch of chairs close to the bar, Valerie stared as Mistress Olivia walked out of the Shadowlands. “Wow. What a mess.”
As she’d known would happen, Ghost had stepped in. Of course he had. She’d heard the way he told Olivia to talk to Z—and oh, she’d wanted to go give him a hug. They had to make this right.
“What a mess.” Gabi shook her head. “Natalia did good. When she goes in, she sure goes all