My home

Ophelia was still technically nursing her wounds, the one that bitch had given her, the one she had sworn to repay as soon as she was in a place where she had the upper hand, when the news broke out.

She was in the seating area of her office and laying back straight on her couch when her P.A. ran in.

“What is it Roxy,” She said without looking up? “Don’t tell me the bitch is back.”

“Madaam.” Roxy exclaimed like she had just seen something horrible, like she had perhaps walked in and found a snake curled in the corner of the room, poised to attack her, and Ophelia flew off her seat, eyes wide and looking around in fear.

“What? What is it, Roxy?” She yelled in fright. 

Had that bitch brought a snake with her and left it here? She would not put it past the bitch.

She would not put it past the person that had come to wait for her in a dark office, almost giving her a freaking heart attack. 

“The news,” Roxy whispered, her eyes still wide, and she was stretching out her computer tablet. 

Was this whole ruckus about a fucking news?

“The National leader had to have better fucking died for you to scare me like that!” Ophelia yelled, standing up and feeling embarrassed at herself for having felt so frightened. 

This was no way to live. 

In constant fear, always watching her back, all because of that little witch.

“Give it to me,” she yanked the tablet out of her P. As hand. 

She held the tablet and scrolled on the screen, walking back to her seat. A few seconds into that walk, she faltered in her steps and almost crashed to the floor.

“No!” She gasped, her eyes wide as she crouched, unable to stand up straight anymore. “No, no, no.” 

It would have been much better if the National leader was fucking dead.

Her fear had come into reality. 

She had suspected this even when her plan to traffic the bitch’s bastard failed. She had known she might do this, but she had been banking on a whole day at least, a whole day where the woman was too frozen with shock from having almost just lost her child, to act.

A whole day where she could send the final blow that would drive her down to hell. 

But it seemed she was not getting that because Ariel had just managed to make her number one on her father’s hit list.

The man would kill her. He would really kill her.

Speaking of the devil, her phone began to ring at that point and she screamed like her hand had caught on fire and dropped the phone to the floor.

She could not let him contact her, or even know where she was. 

She spun around, looking everywhere with wide eyes, half expecting her father’s men to burst in through the door any minute and take her away.

Everyone was suddenly a suspect, even Roxy. 

She tossed Roxy's tablet towards her and hurried to get her purse. 

She had to get out. 

She had to get out fast now because this would be the first place they would look.

Next would be that Tucker mansion. 

She grabbed her purse and began to hurry out of her office with shaky legs when she passed her phone. She raised her legs to crush it, to destroy the damn thing that her father could use to get her.

But at the last minute, she stopped. 

Her salvation was on the other side of this phone.

If she were ever able to drag Ariel down to hell with her for ruining her life, she had to keep this phone by her side and wait for that one special call.

She bent down, picked the phone up and hurried out of the office towards her car. As she hurried down the lobby, everyone was staring at her. 

She saw the look of judgment in their eyes, the disgust.

“You bloody idiots.” She screamed at them, even as she continued to run out of the large lobby. “I pay your salary!” She yelled.

If she ever made a comeback, she would make them pay for this attitude. 

She frowned when she saw no guards even as she neared the revolving door.

Her frown deepened, looking around her, no men in dark suits were converging around her to protect her. 

She gasped when it hit her that they were truly Tucker guards, and Blaine must have called them off.

That was the worst possible thing he could have done to her. He called his guards away without any notice. 

She was still in shock and disbelief when she walked out the door.

Blaine had declared war, made it abundantly clear with this action that they were no longer on the same side. 

“Olivia!” she gasped. 

Had Blaine locked her out of the house too? She needed her daughter. 

She could not let that bitch come anywhere near her daughter, because now she knew that Blaine would definitely take their child to her.

The fool. 

If that was the last thing she did, she was going to take her child from them. 

She would rather die than let that whore, that dirty bitch, come anywhere near her daughter.

At that moment she was suddenly swarmed by reporters, their flashing lights nearly blinding her. 

She found herself spinning in a circle, screaming at them to get back. 

But they would not, and there was no one to protect her. None of her bodyguards were here.

They pressed even closer, pushing their mics and cameras in her face, asking questions as their voices clashed, the sound irritating her ears and nerves so much, taking her back to when her baby used to cry non-stop after she had just been born.

She put her hand over her ear as she tried to wade through the crowd, “Get away, get away.” but it was like trying to get out of quicksand, or a large bowl of uncooked rice. It was difficult to move. 

She took two steps forward and then three back. 

The voices were still there, still talking, still bloody talking and asking questions she could not make sense of, because of how they clashed together.

It felt like she had been swarmed by bees, the noisiest kind. They wouldn't let up and no one was coming to rescue her.

She closed her eyes and began to scream now, but although the voices went off, the sound of shutters going off told her they were taking images of her crash out. 

She was doomed. She was so doomed. 

Her father would really never forgive her for causing such huge shame to the Turner name that he had spent his whole life trying to make great.

“Hello Darling,” She heard a calm voice and a hand around her shoulder now, stirring her forward and her legs could actually move again. 

She opened her eyes and found herself staring into a pair of blue, blue eyes, as calm as the sea.

She looked around to see that his guards had cleared the way for her all the way up to his car.

She had never been so grateful, but at the same time never wanted to kill the man so much.

“How could you!” She yelled, flinging her purse at him as soon as the door locked behind them in the backseat. 

He looked completely confused as he watched her, and she burst into tears, burning frustrated and doomsday tears.

“You just made it official.” She yelled through her tears. “How can you not see that? It’s bad enough that that video is circulating, but then you show up like that?” She pointed out the window to the journalists, sliding down to the floor of the car. 

“My father would kill me.”

Draco said nothing as he quietly turned and stared out of his window, and this annoyed her even more because he had no right to be mad. 

His carelessness got them here. 

It would have been almost impossible for anyone to find out about their relationship if he had not pulled that stunt at the police station parking lot.

“Stop the car.” She said, savagely wiping her face, but he said nothing, just continued staring out the window all cool in his Dormeuil Vanquish II suit.

“Are you taking me hostage now?”

“I’ll spank you till you bleed, Ophelia.” Draco’s voice came out cool and deep. 

He finally turned and leaned low till his face was at a level with her where she sat.

“It’s enough,” he said, the pretense in his soft voice displayed in the hardness of his eyes. “All this? It’s enough. It’s time to go home.”

“This is my home,” She said through her teeth. “I’ll be damned if I am run out of it by a foreign whore. If you will not help me, let me go.”

Just then, her phone began to ring again. 

It startled her so badly the phone flew off her hand. Draco hissed deep and punched the seat in front.

She ignored him, and answered the call she had been waiting for. 

“It’s in your mail,” the distorted voice said, and Ophelia’s eyes lit up. 

“Take me home.” She said with feverish excitement as she hung up. 

Draco did not say a word as his chauffeur took a bend and began to drive towards the Tucker mansion.

For a while now, she had found out that Akira was Ariel’s double agent. 

And as a good revenge weapon, she had been saving her for a day like this.