sat on the bench inside the employee locker room, bent at the waist and sucking air. Riya had hidden them in there before running out to take her place among the staff, but fifteen minutes had gone by with no news, no updates. Gavin and Thea had called ten minutes ago and said they couldn’t get in. Neither could Malcolm. He was stuck in the van with Noah.
Liv was going to throw up.
Geoff was laid out on the other bench, his head in the Russian’s lap. Vlad held an ice pack to Geoff’s temple. “No concussion,” Vlad said. “I know these things.”
“I should be out there,” Liv said. “I’m the one who dragged them into this.”
“Royce dragged them into this,” Mack said.
“I can’t just hide in here!”
The door flew open. Riya burst in, a wild look on her face.
Liv shot to her feet. “What’s happening?”
“They stood on chairs and yelled that he’s a serial sexual harasser, and all hell broke loose!”
Riya punched a few buttons on the audio unit on the wall that controlled speakers throughout the restaurant. The locker room was suddenly alive with the sounds of yelling, gasping, and the blustery denials of Royce.
“These women are disgruntled former employees! I had to fire them! Do not listen to them.”
Liv gripped Mack’s hand as Alexis’s voice rose above the cacophony. “Royce Preston blackmailed me into an unwanted sexual affair—”
“Shut up!” Royce bellowed. “Don’t listen to these women!’
“—for more than a year!” Alexis finished.
“Does that woman even look like my type?” Royce sneered.
“We have seven more women who have come forward,” Jessica yelled.
Liv’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my God,” she breathed. “Listen to them.”
“We have written statements for every reporter in the room,” Alexis said.
“I want these women arrested!” Royce screamed over the noise. “I will sue your asses for slander. Sam! Where the hell is Sam?”
Liv sank against Mack’s chest, her back pressed against the strong beat of his heart.
Chaos was a concert through the speakers—a clash of blustery denials and reporters’ questions and, above it all, the confident, strong voices of two women who’d had enough and were taking back their lives.
The door burst open again.
Royce stalked in. A belligerent bison, huffing and puffing. He shook from the top of his toupee to the toes of his Berluti loafers. His face was the color of a stewed tomato. “Olivia.”
Mack’s arm snaked around her waist.
“I knew you were behind this.” He advanced with threatening intent, but Vlad shot to his feet, sending Geoff sideways onto the floor.
Vlad jumped in Royce’s way. “You will not move,” he said flatly.
Royce gulped and backed up.
“It’s over, Royce,” Liv said. “You’re done.”
Royce shook his finger at her. “You won’t get away with this. I will sue your asses. All of you. You really think anyone is going to believe you over me, you insignificant little bitch?”
Mack dialed Noah and, with his eyes locked on Royce, gave a simple instruction. “Play it.”
The speakers throughout the restaurant scratched with static, and then a clear, strong voice came through.
“What do I have to give you to get you to back off?”
Liv smiled. “I was recording our conversation, Royce.”
Royce’s face drained of color, the first sign of any recognition that he was good and truly done.
“A signed statement.”
“A signed statement saying what?”
Liv laughed at the sound of her own voice—so much calmer than she’d felt that night. And far calmer than she felt right now.
“That you didn’t see a goddamned thing.”
“Is that how you do it? How you keep your dirty little secret? You intimidate women until they sign statements saying it never happened, they never saw anything, you never touched them?”
“Do you really think I don’t know how to do this after all this time?”
The last line skipped and repeated. Skipped and repeated. Over and over. A nightmarish echo. A confession that spelled the end.
Mack laughed and dropped his forehead to Liv’s hair. “Noah,” he murmured.
Royce found his bluster one last time. “Aren’t you forgetting something? I confessed something about you, too, that night, Mack. I will make sure everyone knows your dirty little secret.”
Mack lifted his head, spread his hand wide across Liv’s stomach, and held her tight. “I don’t care, Royce. I’m done hiding.”
Liv turned in his arm and looked up. “Are you sure?”
Mack smoothed a curl behind her ear. “I want to start fresh. You deserve that.”
Once again, the door flew open. Royce’s publicist ran in. “We need to go out through the back, Royce,” the man said, a greenish tint