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Chapter 33

                        GENEVIEVE POV.

   I stumbled from the car, nearly losing a heel in my haste.  Then I saw Norman, a few steps away, watching me. "I heard what you did, thank you," I said, my voice tight with gratitude, trying to walk past him. He didn't move.

He caught my hand, stopping me.  "Honestly, I did it for you," he whispered, the words barely audible, as if spoken only for my ears. I yanked my hand away, anger flaring.  "You want to do it for me so badly, huh?" I spat, not giving him a chance to respond. "Find Ivy," I snapped, and walked away, leaving him standing there.

My heart ached, a raw, throbbing pain.  What is this? I wondered, the conflicting emotions a confusing, painful mess. I missed him, desperately, yet my anger burned fiercely. I didn't want him to leave, yet his presence felt suffocating.  What is this? I repeated, the question echoing in my mind.

At home, Hermann and Richard were deep in conversation, their words meaningless to me.  "Genevieve," Hermann called, and I approached them. "Richard," I acknowledged with a curt nod. "Signore," I added to Hermann.

"Let's see how you handle the mother," Richard said, his tone laced with a chilling amusement.

"Does she know what happened to Ivy?  Does she know about your relationship with her daughter?" I asked Hermann, my voice dangerously calm.

"Briefly," he replied, his nonchalance infuriating.

"What part?" I demanded, my voice icy.

"What?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"What part does she know?" I repeated, my anger escalating.

"Eve—" he began, but I cut him off.

"Hope you didn't leave out the part where you made her your sex toy," I accused, my voice dripping with venom.

"Eve—" he tried again, but I wouldn't let him speak.

"Or when you tied her up naked outside?" I pressed, my words a relentless assault.

He fell silent, the weight of his actions finally hitting him.  I realized how furious I was, the memory of Ivy's suffering a physical blow to my chest.  I could barely breathe.

"You should never have interfered with her life," I choked out, then fled upstairs, needing to escape the suffocating weight of my rage.

In my room, a woman stood by the window, her back to me.  She wore a maroon dress and black heels, her hair sleek and jewelry glinting in the light.  She was perfectly still.  I closed the door softly.

"You must be Ivy's mother," I said, taking a few steps forward.

"Hi. I'm Morgan Silver," she replied, her voice independent, her posture confident, her eyes meeting mine with unwavering intensity.

"Hi. I'm Jennifer Logan."

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                  WILMERT GRANTS POV.

I clenched my fist, the urge to explode overwhelming. "Calm down," Roberto whispered, his voice barely audible above the pounding of my heart, "you have all you wanted, Ivy." He added, "Just tell her that her mother is dead and the rest leave them to me"

"It was an easy job!, " I roared, my voice raw with frustration. "Fuck" I yelled, my anger a tidal wave threatening to consume me.

"I'll take Team Four, we'll search the city until we find her," Roberto said, his voice steady and resolute. "I'll bring her to you" He leaned closer, his whisper a chilling promise.