THE EARLY MORNING LIGHT streamed through the narrow gaps in the wooden venetians. Olivia Hammond rolled to her side and took a moment to admire the way the sunlight threw bands of light across the naked torso of her husband. At thirty-three he was still in peak condition and certainly didn’t perpetuate the stereotype of the scrawny computer nerd. Her gaze travelled up his body and she smiled—Steven had thrown his arm over his eyes, blocking the light. Olivia was convinced Steven was like a puppy and could sleep anywhere, in any position.

She glanced beyond him, to the bedside clock. She had twenty minutes before her alarm was set to go off. A sly smile spread slowly across her face; plenty of time for a quickie. Stealthily, she slid a hand beneath the covers, her aim unerring, and clasped her husband’s flaccid cock. She smiled when it began to immediately firm up; Steven could always be relied upon to perform and perform well.

She stroked slowly and gently, rolling his foreskin back and forth over the head. Steven’s hips, independent of his mind, began a rocking motion, pushing his cock in and out through the glove of her hand. Olivia’s smile broadened, she enjoyed her power over her husband’s body. She and Steven’s cock had an agreement—when she called, he responded. Without fail.

Steven groaned, his eyes still covered by his arm. “You’re a witch, wife-of-mine, an evil witch.”

“Yes,” Olivia agreed, manoeuvring herself to straddle her husband.

Grasping his cock, she aimed it at her already wet snatch, running the head teasingly up and down. On each pass she let the tip of Steven’s cock just enter her before tilting her hip away and sliding his dick up to circle her swollen clit, torturing them both.

“And a greedy one,” she murmured, her voice husky.

“I’ll give you greedy,” Steven muttered.

In a moment he had her on her back, her wrists clasped in his hands above her head, and his dick pistoning in and out of her hungry sex. Olivia moaned appreciatively; she loved it when Steven took control and just fucked her. She raised and splayed her thighs as far as they would go, wanting to achieve as deep a penetration as possible.

In one smooth motion, Steven was back on his haunches, still thrusting, and Olivia’s legs were on his shoulders. With deliberate casualness he coated the fingers of one hand in saliva. Olivia whimpered in anticipation; she always came hard and fast when he stroked her clit while fucking her deep and strong.

“That’s it, come all over my cock,” Steven growled, his thrusts becoming erratic.

And Olivia did. In spades.

******

“I’M GOING TO MISS you, babe,” Olivia said with her back to her husband. The hot spray of the shower felt good on her breasts and belly.

“You could always cancel,” he replied, continuing to wash her back with the huge loofah.

Olivia sighed. “You know I’d prefer to be here with you and the girls, but I’m so close to nailing this deal, I can taste it. If I pull it off it will mean another 250K bonus. That will be the second one this year. Think what fun we could have with that.”

It was Steven’s turn to sigh. Long experience told him it would be fruitless to argue with her or ask what they needed more money for. Once upon a time he’d been the biggest earner in their family, but that time had long since passed. Olivia now easily outstripped him. She was ambitious; an over-achiever. It wasn’t about the money for her. It wasn’t even about the negotiating. It was about sizing up her prey, detecting their weaknesses, and then strategizing to exploit them. She was a hunter. It was about winning, about the deal. Always the deal. Even as one was on the brink of being achieved, she would already be planning her next one.

“I know. I also know you’ll pull it off; you have the Midas Touch. Everything you touch turns to gold.”

Olivia laughed. “The Midas Touch. I like that. Pretty good asset for a merchant banker to have, wouldn’t you say?”

Steven answered by kissing the nape of his wife’s neck.

“Here. My turn,” he said, pushing the sudsy loofah into Olivia’s hand. He manoeuvred them until he faced the spray of the showerhead. He placed his hands on the cool tiles and closing his eyes, angled his face into the flow.

******

AT THE CLICK-CLACK sound of Olivia’s heels Steven poured a coffee; black with one. He pushed the cup to the empty space along the kitchen counter and winked at his six-year old daughters. They giggled.

“What are you two munchkins laughing about?” Olivia asked, dropping a kiss on each of their heads before perching on the bar stool beside Hailey.

“You, Mummy,” said Hannah, giggling.

“Yeah,” piped in Hailey. “Daddy says you can’t do anything until you’ve had a coffee.”

Olivia paused, the edge of her cup resting on her bottom lip for a moment before she pulled it away without having taken a sip, turning the cup this way and that, looking at it as if seeing it for the first time. Hailey and Hannah giggled into their cereal.

“I do declare your Daddy may well be right,” Olivia stated, smothering a smile. “Guess, I’d better have a cup then or who is going to braid your hair? Daddy?”

“No!” squealed the girls together. “Daddy is terrible at braids.”

“And last time, he forgot our ribbons,” added Hailey.

“Oh, the shame, the never-ending shame of the forgotten ribbons,” wailed Steven, dramatically dropping his face into his hands.

All his girls laughed at his antics.

Steven got serious and hustled his women along. Not for the first time, mentally likening it to trying to herd chickens.

Once the girls commenced school, which heralded Olivia’s return to the workforce, Steven normally got the girls up, dressed, and fed. Olivia saw to the finishing touches such as their hair and ribbons. Barring an early morning meeting or work emergency, Steven drove the girls to school, Olivia’s office being in the opposite direction. Today, being school holidays and therefore unnecessary for him to chauffeur his daughters, Steven had arranged to drive Olivia to the airport to catch a flight to Melbourne. She and a bunch of other banking big-wigs were negotiating a deal with a big multi-national that was potentially worth millions.

The girls would be spending the day at the zoo with Mrs. Foster. Mrs. Foster was a godsend who’d been with them since the girls’ birth. Steven had initially been resistant to the idea of employing someone to assist Olivia in caring for their daughters and the house, having himself been raised in a blue-collar home with a stay-at-home mother, but Olivia had been insistent. If she had to take a break from her career in order to care for the girls, she wanted to improve her education at the same time. With Mrs. Foster living in a granny flat on the property and shouldering the brunt of the cooking and cleaning, Olivia was able to study online, adding a degree in economics to her one in accounting as well as completing her MBA.

Steven readily conceded his reservations had been unwarranted. Olivia was a good, if not fully hands-on, mother and Mrs. Foster proved time and again what an asset she was. She cleaned, cared for the girls if they were ill, provided after school and holiday care, babysat when necessary, and cooked a tasty and nutritious meal for the entire family on week nights. Hailey and Hannah adored her, viewing her as a pseudo grandmother.

While Olivia fixed the girls’ hair Steven quickly saw to their breakfast dishes as he felt it was wrong to leave such things for Mrs. Foster to clean up. Steven heard the back door open and smiled; Mrs. Foster’s timing was perfect as always. After kisses and the usual admonishments to his daughters to be good, have fun, and do as Mrs. Foster instructed, Steven grabbed Olivia’s overnight bag and headed for the garage. He thought the bag heavy but didn’t comment; Olivia being Olivia he knew she’d have packed for every possible contingency.

The lighting in the garage was dim but Steven didn’t bother turning on any lights. They wouldn’t be lingering long. He shoved the case in the trunk of their 4WD before moving to the side to open the passenger door for Olivia. She slid in, placing her briefcase and handbag on the floor beside her legs.

As the garage door made its slow ascent, Olivia’s chatter began.

“I wonder if that coffee shop, you know the one with bicycles hanging on the wall, is still there on Berkeley Street?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s been seven odd years since we left. A lot can happen in that time,” Steven answered sombrely. He didn’t like to be reminded of their time in Melbourne.

Olivia continued, oblivious to Steven’s changed mood. “I do so hope it’s still going. They made the absolute best coffee. And their muffins were to die for.” Olivia laughed. “I might even let myself have one.”

Olivia was fanatical about monitoring her carbohydrate intake since the birth of the girls. Her vigilance meant the entire family was, by association, vigilant. Poor Mrs. Foster had had to learn new recipes and adapt old ones to prepare the low-carb dinners Olivia required.

Steven made a token effort at smiling; it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Shall I try to smuggle one back for you, my love? As I recall you were rather partial to the raspberry, cream cheese, and white chocolate one.”

“Yes, I was,” Steven agreed dryly, navigating their local streets on auto-pilot. “But I think you cured me of that particular weakness.”

Olivia’s happy glow dimmed. She frowned. It lasted for the briefest of moments. She brightened. “Well, maybe I’ll have to find you a new sin to enjoy. It will be a surprise.”

“I’m sure it will.”

Steven lifted his foot from the accelerator, allowing the car to slow at its own rate as they approached the intersection that would take them out of their quiet suburban area. Left would take them into the city, right to the airport. With thirty yards to go Steven tapped the indicator stick downward.

“Change of plans, old boy. Turn left.”

Steven and Olivia reacted to the gravelly voice coming from behind them on instinct. Olivia screamed, swivelling in her seat toward the voice. Steven grabbed the wheel with both hands and slammed on the brakes. They squealed in protest, the car fishtailing before coming to a jarring holt that threw all the occupants forward and then back into their seats.

“Who are you?” screamed Olivia, staring at the gun being pointed at them.

“What do you want?” yelled Steven at the same time.

“One question at a time, folks,” chuckled their assailant, clearly enjoying their fear and confusion. “Who I am is your worst nightmare. What I want, well, now that’s a bit more complicated. What you should be asking is why. Why should you do what I want?”

“Why?” Steven grated out, gripping the steering wheel as if his life depended on it.

“Two reasons, really. I have a gun and what’s the other reason? Oh, yeah. I have your daughters.”

Pandemonium reigned as Oliva screeched and Steven yelled and tried to unbuckle himself while reaching for the intruder. Their captor merely sat back, smiling.

“Done now, are we, kiddies?” he asked drily once Olivia and Steven finally fell into an uneasy silence.

“How do we know you have our daughters?” asked Steven.

“They’ve gone to the zoo with Mrs. Foster,” added Olivia, her tone defiant.

“Have they? Are you sure of that now, missus?”

The man rubbed his chin and cheeks, his fingers running over his three-day growth making a soft rasping sound. The noise drew Olivia’s attention to his face. She sucked in a breath; other than a pair of sunglasses, he wasn’t trying to conceal his identity. Her stomach lurched; would she, Steven, and their daughters survive the day?

Two cars drew up behind them and beeped their horns.

“Best get moving. Turn left.”

“Why? Where are you taking us?”

“When I want you to know, I’ll damn-well tell you,” the man growled, shoving the gun into Steven’s side. “Now turn fucking left.”

Steven did as instructed.

“Now give me your phones. Nice and slow. No funny business.”

He pocketed them in his vest. The vest bulged. Olivia swallowed with difficulty, her imagination working overtime wondering what other things he kept in its various pockets.

“And the other one,” he said to Olivia, snapping his fingers at her.

She tried to look innocent and confused. It didn’t work.

“Enough with the bullshit, missus. Give me your other phone. The one in your briefcase.”

Olivia lifted her briefcase onto her lap, opened it and retrieved the phone. She held it over her shoulder to the man. During the whole incident she avoided meeting Steven’s gaze. She could feel him repeatedly looking from the road to her and back. It felt like his eyes were burning holes in her skin.

“You have a second phone?” Steven’s voice was tight with anger.

“Now is not the time to talk about it, Steven.”

The man in back chuckled. “Yes, Steven. Now is not the time to have a domestic or question your wife as to why she has a second phone she hasn’t told you about.”

Steven looked at the man in the rear vision mirror, glaring.

“Now is the time to do as you’re told. Wouldn’t want something terrible to happen to those lovely girls of yours.”

“You can’t have them. They’ve gone out for the day. They left the same time we did.” There was a note of challenge in Olivia’s voice. “I don’t believe you. You’re lying.”

“Lying, am I?” the man snarled. He lifted his phone to eye level, his gaze darting between the screen and Olivia’s face. He pressed a few buttons before handing the phone to Olivia.

A quick glance at the screen as Olivia accepted the phone confirmed her worst fears—the man had their home number. How could that be? It was unlisted. Olivia gasped, finding it hard to breathe. She fought down panic as she heard Mrs. Foster’s voice. She didn’t sound like herself at all. The woman was normally calm and confident. Not now. Now she sounded shaky and hesitant; like she was a hair’s breadth away from crying. Olivia felt as if someone had placed a clamp around her chest.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Foster? It’s Olivia—”

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry. They have us. Oh, god, they have the girls. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop them”

Olivia dropped the phone into her lap as if it had burned her and wailed her terror. The sound was piercing; like an animal in agony. Both men cringed.

“They do, Steven. They have the girls,” Olivia sobbed, her shoulders shaking.

Steven banged the steering wheel. “What do you want from us? Why are you doing this? We’re not wildly rich or famous? Why?”

“Rich enough, Techy. Now hand back the phone, missus.”

“What do you mean? What do you want? Just tell us,” begged Olivia, passing the man the phone. “We’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt our girls.”

“That’s what I want to hear. Now, Stevie-boy, take us to the National Australia Bank on Liverpool Street.”

Olivia and Steven exchanged a glance. That was their bank.

“So, kiddies, how much dinero are we talking? How many pennies have you two managed to salt away?”

Steven opened his mouth to speak, but Olivia beat him to it.

“About 250K give or take a bit.”

Steven closed his eyes for a fraction longer than a blink. He held his breath.

“Tut, tut, tut, missus. Have you already forgotten your little declaration of only a few minutes ago? You know; the one about you being prepared to do anything to save your daughters? You must have because you’ve just lied to me.”

Steven watched in the rear-view mirror as their kidnapper shook his head ruefully.

“Let me see. What was that number again? Oh, yeah, that’s right. Three hundred and twenty-two thousand and fifty-four dollars and seventy-five cents. Does that sound familiar?”

Olivia and Steven exchanged another glance; the amount was exact to the last cent. Olivia answered for them. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“No more lies, Livvy-girl, or I might get the idea you don’t care what happens to your rug rats.”

“Please,” begged Olivia, drying her eyes on the sleeve of her jacket. “Please don’t hurt the girls.”

“You keep doing what I tell you and quit with the bullshit and your girls will be just fine.”

Olivia nodded, more tears leaking from her eyes and trekking down her cheeks.

The man frowned at her. “Clean yourself up. You need to make a withdrawal, so we don’t want you giving the game away by being all weepy, do we?

Olivia shook her head as she fumbled in her handbag for tissues and make-up.

Steven remained silent, risking a glance or two in the rear vision mirror at their captor. Twice his captor was staring at him and Steven’s gaze skittered away as if struck. In his peripheral vision he could see Olivia using a small sponge to dab foundation beneath her eyes.

The journey proceeded rather silently. The only sounds being their out of sync breaths and those of the surrounding traffic. The tension within the vehicle was palpable. Only one occupant seemed unaffected.

Steven turned onto Liverpool Street, slowing as he searched for a parking space. Stressed, he fumbled a reverse park. The man laughed at him. Steven’s expression became even more grim.

For the briefest of moments all were silent as they contemplated the bank on the opposite side of the road, about thirty yards ahead of them. The sound of the man opening his door prompted Steven and Olivia to do the same. They stood on the sidewalk waiting for instruction.

“Okay, missus, time to make a withdrawal. I don’t need to remind you to not alert anyone, do I? No secret messages or odd behaviour to alert staff. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to your two precious bundles, would we? One sign that all isn’t going according to my plan and you’ll never see your girls again. Got it?”

Olivia nodded, accepting the briefcase the man held toward her. Her eyes welled with tears, but she blinked them away. “Got it.” Her voice sounded croaky. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Understood.”

“Wait, I’ve just remembered,” said Steven when Olivia took a step toward the kerb. “For withdrawals over 50K, two signatures are required.”

The man contemplated Steven, staring at him as if he were a bug under a microscope, clearly trying to gauge Steven’s honesty.

“The same warning goes for you too, Daddy. If I even suspect you’re doing a Bruce Willis, Die Hard move on me, I’ll pull the pin on your girls.”

Steven nodded sourly.

“Lighten up, man, 320K, give or take a few, is a small price to pay for your little angels.” The man laughed. “Right?”

Steven nodded again. “Right.”

Taking the briefcase from Olivia’s hand, Steven checked for traffic before stepping onto the road. They had to pause at the midway point. Upon reaching the opposite side, he turned back to their captor and nodded once.

Olivia and Steven entered the bank and made for one of the counters. Steven frowned as he watched Olivia attempt to complete a withdrawal slip. Her writing was barely recognisable as her own. Without saying a word, he took the slip from her and screwed it up, tossing it into the small trash can provided. He reached for another and proceeded to fill it out. He passed the pen to Olivia, so she could sign. He could see her hand was shaking. One glance at her face told him she was hanging on by a thread.

“Take a few deep breaths,” he whispered close to her ear. “We can’t screw this up. Think of Hailey and Hannah. They’re depending on us.”

Olivia nodded, biting her lip. She took the pen and signed. Tears welled in her eyes. “He’s going to take everything. Everything we’ve worked so hard for.”

Steven shrugged. What could he say?

“Why, Steven? Why us? Why now? Is your firm working on any government or, I don’t know, sensitive contracts?”

Steven considered the question. It was a fair one. He worked in security and surveillance software. Finally, he shook his head. “Nothing that would warrant this. What about you? Have you been involved in any deals that have gone sour? Or pissed anyone off? Any CEO or CFO, ah, downsized? Any middle manager sent packing? Anyone at the bank pissed because you got promoted over them?”

Olivia looked distressed. A few tears escaped, and she tried to discreetly brush them away with her fingers. “I don’t know. Takeovers and mergers inevitably lead to staff and management being let go and a few of the guys in my department resent me for being promoted over them. Merchant banking is still very much a man’s world. But this? To do this? To take our girls?” Olivia dropped her face into her hands, her shoulders shuddered in an effort to keep her emotions bottled up. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

Steven assessed his wife. She wouldn’t pass master with the bank teller he was sure. “Go back to the car. I’ll handle this. One look at you and the bank will know something’s wrong. We can’t afford any problems.”

Steven expected Olivia to argue. She didn’t. With one final, grateful glance, she lowered her head and walked to the door. She didn’t look back once outside. Taking a deep breath, Steven joined one of the queues.

******

“HERE, WE’VE DONE what you wanted,” said Steven, handing the man the briefcase. “Now let us and our girls go.”

The man looked to his left and then his right before settling his gaze on Steven. “Funny, I don’t see anyone in a position to be dictating terms to me.” The man’s expression turned feral. “We’re done when I say we’re done. Comprendez, Daddy?”

Steven compressed his lips and nodded.

The man turned to Olivia, looking her up and down patronisingly. “You’re looking a little rough around the edges, sweetie. What happened to the hotshot negotiator? The closer? The money-making machine? The woman with balls of steel? Gotta say, I’m disappointed.” The man laughed derisively. “Not that good in a crisis after all, hey?”

Olivia hung her head, her shoulders slumping. Steven had never seen her looking so defeated, not even after Melbourne.

“How’s it feel to lose everything you’ve worked for, missus?”

Olivia’s head shot up. She looked devastated. Steven wrapped a protective arm around her.

“We haven’t lost everything,” Steven replied quietly. “Money’s not everything. We still have the girls and each other.”

“Wow, quite the philosopher, aren’t we?” sneered the man. “You keep doing what I tell you and you will keep your daughters alive and well.”

“But we already did what you asked-” Steven began.

“But, wait, there’s more,” the man interrupted, imitating the voice and intonation of a well-known character from a television advertisement.

Steven cringed, preparing himself for another onerous task.

“What else can we do for you? You’ve taken all our money. What else can we give you?”

“Oh, this is an easy one, little lady. I want you to make a delivery for me.”

Steven and Olivia looked at each other confused. Why would the man kidnap them and their daughters for a delivery? The money was understandable, but a delivery?

“We’re off to Market Street, Daddy.”

Steven turned the key and the Range Rover purred into life. He pulled into the traffic, pushing his way into the right lane, preparing to turn into Pitt Street. Traffic was still heavy. Peak hour seemed to last all day in the city centre. They crawled along; Steven was convinced they could have walked to their destination faster. At the Bathurst Street intersection, he turned right and shortly afterward, left onto Elizabeth. The road ran beside Hyde Park, but today, both Steven and Olivia were blind to its beauty. Not so, their captor.

“Maybe you should spend more time in your lunch hours, missus, in the park. Maybe, by the Pool of Reflection. You know, do a little reflecting on your life choices.”

“What do you mean by that?” snapped Olivia, half turning in her seat. Steven saw she was looking daggers at the man.

“Now, now, now, little lady. Don’t go getting all high and mighty with me. It didn’t take a lot of investigating to know why you guys moved from Melbourne to Sydney. Someone was a naughty girl, methinks.”

Steven winced, and Olivia gasped in shock. She looked at Steven who steadfastly kept his gaze on the road ahead.

“That was a long time ago and Steven forgave me. We worked our way through that. You have no right dragging up our past and rubbing our faces in it.”

“Oh, but I do, missus. This here gun gives me a lot of rights and you’d do well to remember it. I’m not one of your office minions. By the way, your office minions; they don’t like you much. Neither do your colleagues. I wonder why? Could it be you’ve stabbed too many of them in the back? Run roughshod over them in your climb to the top? Or is it your demanding attitude?”

Olivia ignored the insults; there was no point in defending herself. Merchant banking was a cutthroat world. It was dog eat dog. As a woman she’d had to be twice as ruthless as the men she worked with in order to be taken seriously. After Melbourne, she’d made sure she kept the aggressive, competitive side of her nature at work.

She looked at her husband’s profile. Knowing him as well as she did, she recognised the pain he was in. The man’s jibes about Melbourne had hit their target. The tightness around Steven’s eyes, the lines of compression at the corners of his mouth, the way his hands gripped the wheel. Everything about him spoke of anguish and the effort it took to keep his emotions under control. Witnessing his silent suffering, she even forgot about her daughters for a moment. Steven’s pain was her pain and she hated that it was her and her actions that were the root cause. Hated that she had given their captor the weapon with which to hurt her husband. It saddened her to know that the events from their time in Melbourne still had the power to wound Steven.

“Don’t listen to him, Steven. He’s trying to drive a wedge between us. Melbourne was so long ago. We love each other. We’re happy. We have two beautiful daughters-”

The man clapped his hands. Slowly at first, the tempo increasing. And then he laughed. “Bravo. Bravo.”

Olivia rounded on him in fury. She hated being mocked. “Why are you doing this? How do you know these things? Why? Why go to so much trouble to investigate us? Neither of us is famous, nor are we super rich.”

“Well side-stepped, missus. My reasons are my own and you’d do well to rein in your attitude. Wouldn’t want to piss me off now. Not when one phone call could, well, let’s just say, change your entire world.”

“Shut up, Olivia. Just do what the man says,” said Steven quietly. To the man he asked, “Whereabouts on Market Street? What number?”

“One hundred,” the man replied. “Do you know who has the offices on the fifth floor of number one hundred Market Street?”

“No.” Steven tensed, knowing the address would be something else significant to either him or Olivia. He gave Olivia a sideways glance. She’d paled, and her hands were clenched so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white. Steven looked at the man via the rear-view mirror. The man caught him looking and smiled at him smugly.

“How about you, missus? You know who’s on the fifth floor?”

Olivia turned her head to look out the window, ignoring the question. Surprisingly, the man didn’t insist she answer. Instead, he chuckled. The sound jarred.

Steven turned left and immediately started looking for a place to park. It wasn’t going to be easy; parking places in the inner city were always as rare as hen’s teeth. The gods must have been looking after him, though—or was it the man?—because he scored a spot approximately one hundred yards from their destination.

Once again, they all piled out of the car. Olivia looked tense and wary; Steven edgy, every muscle in his body taut, like that of the bow just before the arrow was released.

Their captor passed Steven a document sized envelope, thick with whatever its contents were. Olivia staggered backward, her stare riveted on the envelope. Steven looked at her questioningly. She avoided returning his gaze.

Much to their surprise he passed Steven a phone. The man watched them both with amusement. “I may have further instructions for you. Don’t get any funny ideas or try to play the hero. Remember who has your daughters. Fifth floor, number one hundred,” he repeated.

Both Olivia and Steven nodded, turning as one in the direction of the office building that was their latest target.

“Oh, no, missus. You’re sitting this one out. Hubby gets to make this delivery all by himself.”

Again, Steven shot Olivia a questioning look. Again, she avoided answering him with her eyes.

As soon as Steven was out of earshot the man began. “Can you guess what’s in the envelope, Olivia?”

She nodded miserably.

“So, who’s been a naughty girl? Get a little too ambitious, did we? Or did you just begin to believe your own bullshit?”

“You probably already know,” she replied dejectedly. “The deal hinged on knowing.”

The man shook his head, clearly enjoying her misery. “Tut, tut, tut. Insider trading. You could get into big trouble. Maybe even do some jail time if hubby delivers that envelope to the Aussie Securities and Investments Commission. ASIC frowns on people who cheat and break laws.”

Olivia hung her head, all fight gone from her. If what was in that envelope was what she suspected, her career was over. Life as she knew it was over. Steven would be so shocked and disappointed in her. What would she say to the girls? Would Steven stand by her in court? Wait for her if she had to go to prison? She shuddered as a bleak future opened up before her.

“I tell you what, missus. I’ll give you one phone call to convince hubby not to deliver that envelope. Can’t be fairer than that, can I?”

Olivia looked up, uncertain whether the man was toying with her or not. Hope flooded her veins when he held out a phone to her. She grabbed it with unseemly haste, fearful he’d pull it out of her reach.

A quick glance told her she had her own phone; the burner one. She suppressed her initial reaction of guilt. She glanced at the man and knew by the knowing look on his face her being given the burner phone was intentional.

“One rule: you can’t tell him I’ve given you this chance.”

Olivia took a deep breath to still the trembling in her hands and punched in Steven’s number.

“Hello?” Steven answered uncertainly.

“Baby, it’s me. Don’t deliver the letter.”

“Olivia, I have to. He’ll hurt the girls if I don’t.”

“Trust me, please. Don’t deliver it.”

“Why are you risking the safety of the girls? You know I can’t ignore his instruction.”

“Baby, trust me. Please, just trust me. Don’t deliver it. Throw it in a trash can. He’ll never know.”

Olivia looked at the man as she said the last sentence and recoiled at the smirk on his face.

“What’s in it that has you so rattled that you’d risk Hailey and Hannah?”

“Steven, I can’t tell you. You’ll just have to trust me. Please don’t deliver that envelope. Please. Do it for me. It’s important. Important to me, to us. Please, just toss the envelope away.”

The man made a scissoring action across his throat, signalling her time was up. Olivia made one last plea.

“Steven, baby, please. Please trust me. Please don’t deliver the envelope.”

She ended the call, her entire body quaking as she handed the phone back to the man. Her heart raced. Surely Steven would do as she asked? Surely, he’d trust that she wouldn’t put their girls at risk?

“Are you and honesty even on speaking terms?” the man asked mockingly. “You’ve got to ask yourself who’s the real crim here, you or me?”

Olivia turned her face away, her cheeks burning at the man’s taunt. It struck a little too close to home.

After a long moment, Olivia risked a peek at their captor, watching as he grabbed another phone out of one of the pockets of the bulging vest. Her phone. She recognised the scuff mark on the bottom corner. He pressed a few buttons. She realised it was her pin to unlock the phone. How could he know these things?

“Olivia!”

Steven’s exclamation was so loud, Olivia heard it clearly, despite the distance between her and her captor.

“Sorry, sport. It’s not the missus. It’s your worst nightmare. When you get up to the fifth floor, I want you to get the receptionist or some other office jock to take a photo of you handing over the envelope. I don’t care how you do it. Just get it done.”

“Okay,” Steven replied hesitantly.

Olivia wanted to scream at Steven. Who would he listen to? Her or their captor? Olivia silently willed Steven to trust her and toss the envelope. He had to know she’d never risk the girls. She prayed as she’d never prayed before. More even than she had after Melbourne.

Every minute seemed to drag, stretching Olivia’s nerves to their limit. What was taking Steven so long?

At last, she saw him walking toward them. The envelope was gone. Had he thrown it away or delivered it?

He seemed in no hurry and his head was down. He was avoiding looking at her but also at the man. Who had he disappointed?

Without a word being said, the man held his hand out for the phone. Steven passed it to him. The man opened it and went to the photos folder. Olivia was strung so tight she feared she’d snap. She held her breath, sending up one last desperate prayer.

The man held the phone out to her. There, on the screen, stood Steven. Beside him was a plumpish brunette, smiling as she accepted a thick ochre-coloured envelope.

Olivia collapsed, distraught. The bottom had just fallen out of her world. It was as if her bones had turned to rubber. Her knees hit the pavement, but she felt no pain. Her face rested in the palms of her hand; her shoulders heaved as huge gasping sobs were torn from her.

“Why? Why did you deliver it? Why didn’t you do as I asked? Why didn’t you trust me?” she wailed, looking up at Steven, her shoulders still shaking with the strength of her tears.

Steven stepped toward his wife, but the man waved him back. “Oh, dear. Are we feeling a little betrayed? A little let down? Not nice is it, Livvie? Not nice to have hubby choose me over you.”

“Leave her alone,” growled Steven, and ignoring the man, leaned down to help Olivia back to her feet. He held her in his arms, stroking her back.

“Ah, ever the good guy. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe that’s why she doesn’t respect you? Not enough killer instinct.”

“I’ll show you killer instinct,” snarled Steven, releasing Olivia and lunging for the man.

They scuffled, each landing a few punches. It was a sad indictment on their fellow pedestrians that not one stepped forward to try and break up the fight. In fact, most gave them a wide berth.

“Remember your daughters, Steven,” the man whisper-yelled, sidestepping to avoid another right cross.

And suddenly it was over. Steven deflated like a punctured tyre. Olivia felt his frustration like a cold gust of wind.

“Back in the car, the pair of you,” the man barked. “You’ve drawn enough attention to us.”

At the click of the last seatbelt being fastened, Olivia turned her head. “We’ve done everything you’ve asked of us. You’ve taken all our money and ruined my career. Please, I’m begging you, please let us and our daughters go. We won’t go to the police. We just want to go home and have our daughters back.”

“Nope. No can do. We have another delivery to do.”

Olivia faced forward, shoulders slumped. She couldn’t think what else this man could do to destroy her.

“Where to?” asked Steven sullenly.

“Chatswood.”

Steven groaned.

Olivia turned to him. “Has he got something on you too? Did you do something illegal?” Her voice showed her anxiety. Suddenly she was fearful their girls would be without either of their parents. What would happen to them if both she and Steven went to jail?

Steven looked shocked and offended at Olivia’s assumption. “Of course, I didn’t do anything illegal. If he has what I think he has, it was something I did that was stupid, but most definitely not against the law.”

“What?” Olivia asked, bracing herself for the worst.

“Nothing more than indiscreet in-house emails about a new client who is so dumb, Tom and I can’t figure out how he’s made his millions. That’s the only thing I can think of.”

“Is that all?” Olivia’s relief was obvious in every line of her body.

“Enough to get me fired.”

“Oh.”

“Very good, Steven,” the man said. “Great deductive powers. I can see why they pay you the big bucks. Pity they might have to let you go.”

Steven jerked the car into the traffic, earning him a loud honk of protest from the Toyota he cut off. Steven flicked the driver the bird. Their captor merely laughed.

Steven zipped in and out of lanes and accelerated in order to cross an intersection before the lights changed from amber to red.

“My, my, my, we are in a hurry.”

“Might as well get it over and done with.”

Everyone fell silent. The atmosphere in the car was tense with Steven and Olivia deep in thought, and the man observing. Assessing.

Olivia stared out the side window. The man was systematically destroying them. Why? She couldn’t figure it out. Did he work for the client Steven had disparaged to a colleague? If so, the revenge was rather extreme. In the end, did the why even matter? By the end of the day they would have no cash, Steven’s job would be on the line, and there was a strong possibility she would be arrested. And then there was their daughters. What had the man done to them and Mrs. Foster? Olivia prayed for her girls. She couldn’t bear the idea of them coming to any harm. Everything else that had happened was survivable, the loss of Hailey and Hannah was not.

Steven was hanging on by a thread. He just wanted it all to be over. He just wanted to be home with his girls. Whatever other fallout came from the day could be coped with.

Crossing the harbour bridge was, as usual, a nightmare. Once they were on the North Shore, Steven drove as one familiar with the area. He parked around the corner from the office building owned by the client and turned to face their captor.

“Who’s doing the delivering?”

“You might as well,” drawled the man, enjoying their discomfort. “You know the drill. A photo handing over the document. No funny games. Blah, blah, blah.”

As he spoke, he held out a phone and envelope. This one not as thick as the one that had been delivered to ASIC.

“Have fun,” teased the man, laughing at his own joke. Olivia glowered at him.

They both watched as Steven strode toward the corner like a man on a mission, which, in essence, he was.

“Why are you being so cruel? If this is about me, why punish Steven? Why take our girls?”

“All will be revealed, missus.”

“More damn mystery and riddles.”

The man laughed. “You need to learn how to put some fun into your work day.”

“Fun?” shrieked Olivia. “You call this fun?”

“Settle down, little lady. You wouldn’t want to upset me. Not when I have your precious daughters.”

Olivia immediately quietened down. To do so went against her instincts. She normally went straight for the jugular in negotiations. She liked to put her opponent on the back foot. Today, it was her feeling off balance. She hated feeling so powerless, so ineffectual. It smacked of failure and failure wasn’t in her vocabulary.

Olivia watched the street, impatient for the sight of her husband. When he finally rounded the corner, her heart sank. He looked like a man beaten. She knew he too must be feeling the same helplessness, not to mention, fear, she was. Being a loving father, as well as a proud and capable man, a man used to being in charge, it must be hell to be at their captor’s mercy and not be able to protect his children.

Without saying a word, he slid into the car and handed the man the phone. He buckled his seatbelt before placing his hands on the steering wheel, waiting for his next instruction.

The man chuckled as he looked at the photo. “Geez, man, you could have at least smiled.”

Steven pursed his lips, biting back a sharp retort. Olivia reached across and squeezed his forearm comfortingly. Steven smiled at her gratefully.

“Aren’t you going to ask where to next?” the man teased.

“You’ll tell us when you’re ready,” Steven replied tersely. “You’re the one in charge, after all.”

The man laughed. “You’d make a good army officer—even when you disagree or hate the command you follow it anyway.”

Steven looked in the rear-vision mirror at the man sharply.

“Yes, I know you spent time in the forces. Not in the field, though. No, you were nice and safe in the command centre assisting with the co-ordination of the covert ops. Others got to do the dirty work.”

Olivia looked at her husband. He never spoke of his time in the forces, only once saying he’d lost too many friends to want to mentally revisit his time there.

“My nerdy computer job saved countless lives, you arsehole. A lot of successful missions were done, in part, because of the information I provided the commanders leading those ops. Don’t you dare fucking mock me or those men or I’ll rip your throat out with my bare hands. And if you hurt my daughters, I’ll rip your heart out too.”

The man merely laughed, unperturbed by Steven’s anger. “Yeah, so I heard, captain. Keep your hat on. No need to go all rogue on me. Keep doing what I tell you and you and your family will do just fine.”

Olivia saw Steven was not happy with the man’s response. And why should he be? His words made it clear they still had hurdles to leap before he would let them, and their girls go. She refused to even consider her family not surviving the day. To keep going she had to believe.

“Let’s see,” the man said, steepling his fingers as if deeply pondering a decision. “How about we take a nice little drive out to the Hawkesbury River. I know a nice little B&B with great water views.”

With his words, Olivia knew the whole day had been about her. She fought to keep her posture upright and her expression neutral.

How could the man know? She’d been so careful. No routines. No set days or times. No lunches or dinners. Not even coffees outside the office. She was certain no one knew. No one other than Logan. Logan, her lover, her colleague. Logan who was meant to collect her from the domestic terminal after Steven had dropped her off in what seemed a lifetime ago. Yes, Logan. Her teammate. Together they’d pulled off two massive deals in one year. Deals worth billions of dollars to the bank.

Olivia wanted to hit something. She was furious. Her career was in tatters, her family in danger, her husband possibly jobless, and for what? Nothing. Logan was nothing. He meant nothing. He was just a little reward she’d allowed herself for a job well done. She was the same to him. He, too, was married with kids. He loved his wife as much as she loved Steven. They’d had a little self-congratulatory week-long fling after they’d pulled off the first deal and had the occasional tryst when the opportunity arose.  Having gotten away with it, neither had seen any obstacle to having another little celebratory few-day romp with the recent deal. It meant nothing, absolutely nothing, but now because of it, her whole life, and that of her family, was in jeopardy.

Frustratingly, knowing the events of the day had something to do with her indiscretion still didn’t answer the question of who was behind it.

It couldn’t be Steven. Revenge had been wreaked upon him too, and Olivia knew he was incapable of hurting her. If anything, he’d be like he was after discovering her affair with a colleague in Melbourne; he’d be crushed. Depressed and withdrawn and asking what she needed that she wasn’t getting out of their relationship. And then there was the call to Mrs. Foster. She’d been terrified. There was no way Steven would have orchestrated something like that.

What about Logan? Could he have arranged it all to discredit her and take her out of the running for any future promotion? He was certainly ambitious and ruthless enough to throw her to the wolves. His drive to succeed was one of the things she found attractive about him. But would he risk her implicating him?

And then there was Logan’s wife. She came from old money. Her family had connections and would certainly have the dollars to pull something of this nature off. For all she knew, Logan was himself enduring a similar ordeal.

Olivia gritted her teeth, frustrated. Her mind, her brilliant strategic mind, couldn’t come up with solid enough answers to pinpoint the mastermind behind the day’s events.

“Figured it out yet, Livvie?” asked the man.

“What’s he talking about, Olivia? Do you know why he’s doing this to us?”

Olivia hedged, her intellect at war with her heart. Her intellect told her she could turn the situation around. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d wrung a win from what appeared a certain defeat. It told her she could put a spin on the events of the day, on the B&B at the Hawkesbury, and save herself from a painful and awkward confession. Steven need never know….

Her heart felt differently. It said enough was enough. Her choices had hurt Steven and her family beyond anything she’d envisaged. Her daughters’ lives were at stake. It told her it was time to come clean and give Steven the honesty he deserved.

“Yes, I do. It’s all my fault.”

“What? What do you mean?” asked Steven.

Olivia cringed. Looking at Steven she felt a remorse so deep, it was a physical pain. She was responsible. Because of her, the stranger had their girls, their money was gone, and Steven had probably lost his job. All of it none of his doing. Her own consequences were deserved; she had, after all, broken the law.

“Oh god. This is so hard. I don’t know where to begin,” she began, hoping she would be able to find the right words so that Steven would understand and forgive her.

“Is this what you’re like in the boardrooms, Livvie?” asked the man. “Stop beating around the bush, and just spit it out, woman.”

Olivia turned to glare at the man. Steven waited, hands gripping the steering wheel.

“Steven, I-I-, oh shit. This latest deal, I bent the law. I-“

“You mean you broke it,” interrupted the man.

Olivia sighed. “Yes, it’s true. I broke it. I found out insider information on the stock. The deal hinged on the client knowing, so I got them the information.”

“Let me get this right,” Steven said. “You broke the law and risked our family for a deal?”

“When you say it like that, it sounds reckless. Reprehensible. The bonus for us was going to be at least 250K. There was no reason for ASIC to suspect any wrongdoing…” Olivia trailed off, seeing the look of disgust on Steven’s face. The look gutted her.

“Thinking you can get away with breaking the law doesn’t make it okay to break the law. Honesty and integrity are doing the right thing even when no one is looking,” rebuked the man.

Olivia flinched, the irony of a kidnapper lecturing her on ethics and morality went over her head.

“And, what else, missus?”

Olivia stared at the man, her expression that of a woman on her knees begging for mercy. She found none.

Head hanging, eyes closed, she began, her voice barely audible. “On these deals we work as a team. A small, close-knit group, each individual with a skillset needed for the project or deal. Logan Priest and I led the team. We worked closely together. I-we, ah…” Olivia faltered. She knew how devastating her next words would be to Steven. At that moment, she’d have given anything to not have to utter them. “I-we, we fucked as a sort of in-house congratulations.”

The car door opened. Olivia’s head shot up. She looked to the side, expecting to see Steven exiting the vehicle. She was wrong. Steven was still in his seat, looking at her with something akin to hatred in his eyes. Olivia recoiled as if struck. She turned her head this way and that. The man was gone. All that he’d left was his vest. He’d disappeared into the crowd.

“What? Where?” she asked, confused.

Another look around the car and she could see the man had taken the briefcase holding their life’s savings.

“What’s happening?” she asked Steven, panicking. “Why did he leave? He’s taken the money. What about Hailey and Hannah? How can we get him to free Mrs. Foster and the girls if he’s disappeared?”

“No, he didn’t. He hasn’t taken the money.”

“What? Why? But he has the girls. I don’t understand what’s going on?”

“How does that feel, Olivia? How does it feel to not understand? To have nothing make sense? To be left in the dark about things that have great bearing on your life?”

“Steven, what’s going on?”

Steven ignored her questions. “Do you like feeling out of loop? Do you like feeling uncertain? Scared? Confused? Powerless?”

“Steven, what do you mean? What about Hailey and Hannah? For god’s sake, tell me what’s going on?”

“Why should I? Perhaps I like having my secrets as much as you like having yours.”

“What? What is wrong with you? You’re not making sense. None of this is making sense.”

“I know, Olivia. I know about Logan Priest. I know about the deal, the insider trading. Just like I know about the previous deal and the little ‘aren’t-we-such-a-good-team fling you had with him when you pulled off that one. I know about your trysts. And I know all about your, ah, Midas Touch. Guess Logan Priest has it too. Certainly had it when he got into your panties, by all accounts.”

Olivia stared at Steven in disbelief. Her mind was in denial, but her body telegraphed her guilt by sending a deep red flush up her chest and into her cheeks. Steven couldn’t have known. She’d been so careful.

But he had known. He’d just said he had. He knew about the other fling with Logan, too. And their random get-togethers.

And he’d hidden his knowledge from her. She felt ill. Her stomach cramped violently. Olivia opened the car door and leaned out, foul smelling, bitter tasting vomit erupted from her, splattering the gutter. Olivia swirled saliva around her mouth, trying to wash the sour taste from her tongue. She spat it into the mess she’d already made on the road.

Olivia inhaled a few slow deep breaths, trying to centre herself. Her mind raced. She struggled to accept that Steven had had something to do with the events of the day. To have been a party to it was so out of character as to be impossible to believe that he was the same man she’d married. But it wasn’t. He knew. Knew everything. How could he be so cruel? How could he torture her so terrifyingly?

“You must truly hate me to organise that man to take the girls. Where are they? Are they okay?”

“Yes. They’re fine. At home with Mrs. Foster. Where they’ve been ever since they got home from the zoo. They had a lovely time, by the way.”

“But, Mrs. Foster. She sounded terrified…”

“Yes, she did rather well. She thought I was playing a joke on you. She thought it a mean joke, but I assured her you’d appreciate it at the end.”

“Oh, my god,” Olivia whispered. She looked at Steven, not recognising him at all. The Steven she knew was incapable of such viciousness, such duplicity.

“You had that man steal all our money.”

“No, I didn’t.” Steven reached to the back seat, moving the vest aside to reveal all their phones. “Here, go to the banking app on your phone and check. All I took out was $100.”

Olivia didn’t move. She believed him. It was all coming together. It had all been an elaborate hoax.

“Who is he?”

“No one you know.”

By his tone, Olivia knew it was pointless to pursue the question of the man’s identity.

“And the papers you delivered to ASIC? You want me to go to jail? You must really hate me.”

Steven shrugged. “The envelope was full of blank paper. ASIC got nigh on a ream of paper out of us.”

She wasn’t going to jail. Olivia sagged, relief making her weak.

“So, the delivery to your client was fake too?”

Steven nodded.

“Why? Why go to so much trouble?”

“Why do you think?”

“I don’t know, Steven. I don’t know what to make of any of it. I’m not even sure I know you anymore.”

“No, you probably don’t. You turned me into a new man. Congratulations. I now have the killer instinct you so admire.”

“Oh, Steven. Please don’t say that. I love you just the way you are.”

Steven ignored Olivia’s declaration. “Do you really want to know why?”

Olivia nodded, though her gut, which she so relied on in the boardroom was telling her she wouldn’t like the answer.

“I wanted you to experience some of what I’ve been feeling for the last six to eight months. What I experienced back in Melbourne seven years ago. I figured this was the only way. Had I just had a revenge affair or divorced you, you wouldn’t have known the depth of my feelings. I needed you to have a taste of what my life has been like. I needed you to feel lost and abandoned. To feel demeaned, betrayed, powerless, not good enough, and all the other shit a betrayed spouse feels when their partner, the person who is meant to love them above all else, stabs them in the back in the cruellest of ways. You’ve been subjected to those feelings for less than a day; I’ve experienced them for over six months. And that’s just this time around.

“Oh, Steven. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I never meant for you to find out-“

Steven barrelled on, ignoring Olivia’s apologies.

“Olivia, the two worst moments of my life involve you. Do you comprehend the depth of that statement? I’ve seen death. I’ve been responsible for sending friends and comrades into enemy territory and watching as they lost their lives for their country. Do you understand that what you did to me was far more difficult to deal with? Few things are worse than discovering the person you’ve committed your life to has betrayed you. When the person you’ve promised to love treats you with utter disrespect-”

“But I didn’t disrespect you and I’d never allow anyone else to either,” Olivia protested, reaching across to touch Steven’s arm. Steven shook her hand off.

“I think you and I have a different idea about what constitutes respect. You think because you went to great pains to hide your infidelity and didn’t allow your lover to denigrate me—yes, I know you stopped him when he tried—that you’ve treated me with respect. I, on the other hand, feel that by screwing around behind my back you’ve disrespected my feelings, disrespected the vows you made to me all those years ago, and disrespected my beliefs of which you were fully aware and have been since we got engaged. Even more so after Melbourne.”

Steven paused, turning to look out the window. He had so much he wanted to say, but at the same time, he didn’t want to waste the rest of his life having one conversation after another rehashing the downfall of their marriage. He’d wasted enough of his life on her. Taking a breath, he decided to say as much as he could in this one conversation and, once done, to let it go. If his words penetrated; fantastic. Score one for the good guys. If not; he’d move on. A life filled with bitterness and resentment was no life at all. That would be like sipping poison on a daily basis and expecting the enemy to die.

“To me, being betrayed felt like experiencing death while still living and breathing. The first thing that died because of your deceit was our past. What of it was real? What, a lie? I’ll never know because I only have your word and your word has been proven to be false. Twice. Do you know what the second thing to die was, Olivia?”

Olivia shook her head, her cheeks wet with tears.

“The second victim was our future. The one we vowed to spend together till death do us do part. We have no future anymore, Olivia. Not a joint one, at least. You killed it. You made a corpse of it with every secret assignation, every lie.”

“We can get through this, Steven. You forgave me once before. Please try and forgive me once again. I promise I won’t let you down again. I’ve learned my lesson. We can move if you want.”

Steven shook his head. “What do you think this is? Third time lucky? You promised to forsake all others on our wedding day. You broke that promise within a matter of a few short years. Seven years ago, you promised me again that you were mine and mine alone. That you’d never be unfaithful to me again. You broke that promise too.

“Olivia, when someone treats you with such disregard, such dishonesty, such disrespect again and again and again, something happens to you. Bit by bit the way you look at them changes. Your feelings change. They diminish. It’s deceptive. It kind of creeps up on you.

“I tried. I tried so damned hard to forgive and forget Melbourne. It wasn’t easy. It was hard. Very hard, but I tried. Initially, I tried for you, later for the girls. I wanted to be able to trust you. To look in your eyes and see only the clever, funny, beautiful woman I fell in love with. I didn’t want to see the conniving, deceitful, selfish bitch you’d shown yourself capable of being.

“Funny thing is, I’d almost succeeded and then I noticed the same slightly off things happening again. Nothing to really put a finger on. Just a gut feeling, a sense of déjà vu. At first, I was in denial. No, I said, she wouldn’t do this to me again. She wouldn’t do this to the girls, but the conviction that something was going on just wouldn’t go away. It grew and grew and when I couldn’t stand it any longer and started checking what I found confirmed my worst fears. You were betraying me again. Lying to me again. Stabbing me in the back again.

“After that, all I could see was the bitch. I lost sight of the girl I married. She doesn’t exist anymore, if she ever existed at all.”

“I do. I’m here. I’m still the same person you married. Please, Steven. I’m so sorry. It kills me to know I hurt you. I got caught up in the game. In winning. I felt invincible. You said it yourself; I have the Midas Touch. Everything I touched turned to gold. Logan was just part of the game. It meant nothing. There was no emotion, no bond between Logan and me. It wasn’t intimate. It was sport. It was like running a victory lap.”

Steven shook his head at Olivia, a look of pity on his face. “Again, you and I think differently when it comes to love and sex. For you, it’s just another physical activity. For me, whether I’m spending an entire afternoon on foreplay or fucking you over the kitchen counter, racing to finish before Mrs. Foster returns with the girls, is irrelevant. The mere act of joining my body to yours, of sharing bodily fluids, has created an intimacy. All of it is a physical expression of my love. It’s personal. Sex is personal. It doesn’t get more personal.”

“Steven, I love that you think that way. I love that sex and love are intertwined for you, but it’s not like that for everyone. For some, making love is different to merely copulating with someone you don’t necessarily have feelings about for physical pleasure or relief. Can you honestly tell me that some of your hurt doesn’t stem from pride and a bruised ego? Can’t you see that part of why you’re angry is because, to your way of thinking, someone else got to play with your toys?”

“Don’t fucking demean me by saying I’m hurt and angry because of stupid pride and ego,” Steven roared. “I am not one of your shallow fuck buddies. What I felt for you went so much deeper than mere territorial jealousy. Just because you come with a set of tits and a vagina doesn’t mean you have the monopoly on emotion. In fact, based on your actions and this conversation, I’d have to say, you’re the one lacking in the emotional department.”

Olivia recoiled, a look of horror on her face as she saw how deep Steven’s anger ran. Never, not even after Melbourne, had he ever spoken to her with such vitriol. For the first time ever, she felt fear of him. The car suddenly seemed very small. Claustrophobic.

And it wasn’t over.

“Well, Olivia, lucky you, because from now on you won’t have to worry about hurting my fragile male ego. Now you’ll be able to copulate all you want with whoever you want. Any Tom, Dick, or Harry can play with your toys. I no longer care. I want and need a partner who shares my beliefs. You don’t and so it’s time to go our separate ways.”

“But I love you and, despite what you say, I know you love me.”

Steven shrugged. “I did once upon a time. There was a time I loved smoking, too. Really enjoyed it, but I gave it away when I realised I was being stupid, that I was risking my health and my future by continuing. Staying with you would be stupid. I’d be risking my mental and emotional health and my chance at a happy future. I’d be stupid to trust you again. Stupid to believe in you and your word again. I’m not stupid. I have been, but not anymore.”

“You wouldn’t be stupid, Steven. You’d be loving and forgiving. I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you. Seeing how hurt you are, how far what I did drove you, I’d never risk it again.”

Steven sighed. “You don’t get it, Olivia. You just don’t get it. Let me give you an analogy. If you had to guess what the most fantastic thing we did with the girls during last summer was, what would it be? What did we do that they talked about for months afterward?”

Olivia looked bemused but answered. “We went to that theme park up on the Gold Coast. WhiteWater World.”

“That’s right, and the girls couldn’t get enough. They loved it. Trips to the beach and the river couldn’t compare. That’s what your affairs are like. Nice, safe old hubby at home pushing around the lawn mower, elbows deep in dishwater, reading books to two six-year olds can’t compare to Mr. Three-Piece-Suit, Mr. Highflying-Merchant-Banker. I’m not exciting to you anymore. I’m not illicit. I’m not new and unknown. I’m same-old, same-old. I’m not something you’ve rewarded yourself with.

“Whether you admit it or not you’ll always remember your affairs. They’ll always be your delicious little escapes from married life. You’ll think of them when you’re bored or when I didn’t bring my A-game into the bedroom. I can’t—correction; I won’t—try to compete with a fantasy.”

“I wouldn’t. I swear, I wouldn’t.”

Steven shook his head sadly. “You’re in denial, Olivia. Can you honestly tell me that you’ve never thought about your affairs? Maybe when I’m out of town? Or you’re out of town?”

Olivia couldn’t answer. Steven was right. She had remembered and even masturbated to the memories.

“Exactly,” said Steven, nodding, not needing her confirmation to know he was right. “Bad enough that you do it when I’m not around. Can you imagine what it’s like, night after night, to lay beside you wondering who you’re dreaming about? To make love to you and not know if you’re making love with me or placing one of your lover’s faces over mine? You can’t know how soul destroying that is because you’ve never experienced it, and with your attitude to sex, probably never will.”

“But, Steven-“

Steven gripped the wheel, banging his head lightly against the rim. Olivia looked on in alarm. Had he finally lost it completely?

“But, nothing. Olivia, did you learn nothing from today? Everything that happened was meant to make you feel something beyond a superficial level. Pain, fear of loss, powerlessness, betrayal, abandonment, anger. You felt them. You felt them all. I know you did. I watched you. Why do you think I orchestrated that?”

“I don’t know. To punish me?” whispered Olivia.

“No, not to punish. It was because I’ve felt all those things and more in the last eight months. I never thought I’d ever have to feel them again after Melbourne, not in relation to you. But I did. I have. You did that to me. Remember today. Remember what you felt. Maybe the next time a man loves you, you’ll think twice before stabbing him in the back.”

“I… oh god, Steven, please don’t give up on us. I need you. I love you. I want to grow old with you. It’s wasn’t lovemaking with Logan. It was recreational sex, no more meaningful than going out and having a game of squash.”

“Olivia, you’re repeating yourself. It may not have meant anything to you, but it meant something to me. That’s what you keep forgetting. Our relationship wasn’t just about you. It was about me too. Do you realise you destroyed my love for you, shattered our life together, for a bit of what you call recreational sex? That makes me want to rip your heart out of your chest and stomp on it because that’s what your actions did to mine. Want to know a few statistics about sex?”

Steven didn’t wait for Olivia to reply. “The average person during an average lifespan will have spent somewhere around six months screwing. Yes, that’s all. Six months. Women spend double that time just deciding what to wear! That’s what you betrayed me for; something you’ll spend less time doing than choosing what fucking shoes to wear with your suit!”

Steven shook his head as if shaking off the rain. He ran a hand through his hair.

“Enough. This is getting me nowhere. You don’t understand. Maybe, you never will. Maybe you’re incapable of it.”

Steven’s words repeated on a loop in Olivia’s mind. You don’t understand. Maybe, you never will. Maybe you’re incapable of it. She shuddered as she recalled the roller coaster ride of fear and uncertainty, of isolation and frustration, and the sense of betrayal and loss she’d endured. It had been horrific. The worst thing she’d ever experienced, bar none. And this is what her actions had made Steven feel. Olivia gulped back tears of devastation. She had wounded in the worst possible way the man she loved. She knew deep down she’d believed if her indiscretion was discovered he’d forgive her. After all, he’d forgiven her the last time. What arrogance. Steven was right; she had disrespected him and disregarded his feelings. She’d driven him to extreme actions trying to reach her and make her understand.

Olivia panicked; her crimes against Steven were so huge, but she loved him, she truly did. Steven couldn’t give up on her, on their relationship. He and the girls were the most important things in her life. She had to let him know.

“Steven-“

Steven held up his hand. “Enough! I said enough.”

Checking the rear-view mirror, Steven started the engine, flicked on the indicator and then pulled into the traffic.

“Do you like making deals, Olivia?” Steven didn’t wait for an answer. They both knew the question was rhetorical. “Well, here’s the deal. You buy an apartment. I buy one. The girls stay in the house with Mrs. Foster. It’s not fair on them to deprive them of the only home they’ve ever known just because you couldn’t resist rewarding yourself with a little recreational sex.”

Olivia flinched, hearing Steven use her own words of but moments before. Coming from him they seemed stupid. Ridiculous. Steven carried on, either ignorant or uncaring of her reaction.

“That means you and I will be doing the to-ing and fro-ing. Week on, week off. No child support for either of us. No alimony. We set up an account that we contribute an equal amount to from which all household and Hailey and Hannah related expenses are paid. Regardless, of personal feelings we remain civil. I will not say anything negative about you. You will do me the same courtesy. If we both attend the same event, we will be polite and cordial.”

The calm, matter-of-factness of Steven’s voice unnerved Olivia. This was not a side of him, she’d ever seen.

“And, Olivia, make no mistake. There will be no negotiation. It’s a take it or leave it offer. You give me grief, you fight me on this, and I will forget all my good intentions to save the girls from knowing their mother is a deceitful, law-breaking slut and I will hand deliver the real documents to ASIC. If it was up to me that’s exactly what I’d be doing. I’d enjoy nothing more than sitting in the courtroom watching the prosecution screw your and lover-boy’s arse to the wall. I’d laugh when they sentenced you. The longer the sentence the more I’d be laughing. You’re just lucky you gave me two lovely daughters. For them, I’ll show clemency. For them, I’ll rein in my desire to bury you.”

Olivia looked out of the passenger side window, seeing nothing. She was too late. She’d had her epiphany too late. She recognised defeat. She’d witnessed it often enough on the other side of the negotiating table.

Her marriage was over. She’d lost.

EPILOGUE

OLIVIA SAT IN the front of the church. She looked up and to her side, admiring the beautiful stained-glass windows. Without turning her head in the opposite direction, she knew Steven and his wife, Lauren, were sitting at the opposite end of the pew.

Lauren. God how she loathed that woman. Ten years younger than her and as different as night was to day. Fair to Olivia’s dark, small to Olivia’s tall. Blue-eyed and angelic versus Olivia’s dark sultriness. But her appearance and age wasn’t why Olivia detested her.

She despised Lauren because her daughters adored her. Because Steven loved her. Because he looked at Lauren the way he’d once looked at her. Steven now looked at Olivia as if she were invisible and had done so for over twenty years.

Olivia hated that twenty-two years after their separation she still missed Steven. She wished she could hate him for that. But how do you hate the man by which you measure all other men?

She hated Lauren for being everything she was not. For the way her daughters enthused about her. Hugged her at every opportunity. They should be raving about her, their real mother. Instead, they were more formal with her. It wasn’t fair. Hadn’t she shown them how a woman could have both a family and a career? Hadn’t she set them an example of a successful businesswoman? They should look up to her, admire her, respect her. Wasn’t she always perfectly groomed? Still as slender as she’d been in her twenties? Hadn’t she broken the glass ceiling? And earned a six-figure salary for most of their lives? Didn’t she have good taste? Wasn’t she cultured?

Why then was it Lauren they revered? Lauren who they went to for advice? Sure, the woman ran a chain of fashion boutiques and, as the girls had been so quick to tell her, had worked her way up from the bottom, but did that qualify her as being the girls’ go-to person? Olivia mentally sneered. Lauren had probably slept her way to the top because she sure as hell lacked killer instinct. Olivia knew her thoughts were both untrue and unfair, but she couldn’t help herself. In her mind, Lauren had usurped her role both as wife and mother.

Olivia glanced to her right, looking at Mrs. Foster’s profile. She was getting on in years, and it gave Olivia a small measure of satisfaction to see age catching up with the old bird. Mrs. Foster, too, silly old woman, adored Lauren. Olivia couldn’t understand why the girls had insisted Mrs. Foster be there today. They hadn’t needed a nanny in ten years. It was Steven’s fault—even after the girls had graduated high school, he’d insisted Mrs. Foster stay on in her little cottage.

Olivia’s thoughts drifted as the organ music played in the background. She tried to let the music wash through her and rid her of her foul mood. The reason for her bad temper was the news she’d received the previous afternoon. She couldn’t believe head office had chosen to promote the little slut she’d damn-well mentored. She’d taught the bitch everything she knew, and the little upstart had out-manoeuvred her and stolen the promotion Olivia felt belonged to her. This was the third time in the last five years she’d been overlooked. It rankled.

The priest clearing his throat brought Olivia back to the present. She wasn’t sure why Hailey wanted to have her firstborn son baptised, seeing as they’d never been churchgoing people. Olivia could only surmise it must have been something Hailey’s husband, Jasper, wanted.

Olivia gave half an ear to the ceremony as the priest droned on with the usual mumbo jumbo. Seeing Hailey turn to the gathered family and friends caught Olivia’s attention. For the briefest of moments their gazes met before Hailey’s moved on, settling on her father and Lauren.

Olivia heard the priest ask for Hailey’s parents to stand and come forward. Olivia immediately put her purse on the floor beside her feet and stood. She frowned. Lauren had also risen and was walking toward Hailey and Jasper, her hand firmly in Steven’s clasp.

A hand on her forearm made Olivia look down. “Not you, dear. Hailey and Jasper have asked Steven and Lauren to be Cody’s godparents,” Mrs. Foster whispered gently.

Embarrassed, Olivia almost fell back into her seat. She sat, stunned as Hailey gave a little speech about why she’d asked her father and Lauren to be Cody’s godparents.

“Dad, you were as close to perfect as it gets as a father. All Hannah’s and my friends envied us for having such a wonderful dad. You always seemed to know when to be tough and when to be soft, when to blast us, and when to be lenient. You always listened and always let us know we were your priority. And then you brought Lauren into our lives and made our little family perfect.

“Lauren, you are everything I hope to be as a woman and a mother. Whenever I’m unsure of what to do, I ask myself, ‘What would Lauren do? What would Lauren say?’ I know Hannah does the same. And in all these years following that method of problem solving has never steered me wrong. Thank you for being you. Thank you for loving Hannah and I as if we were your own.

“Jasper and I both agree that if anything were to happen to us, we couldn’t think of two people we’d want more to raise our son, our precious Cody.”

Tears rolled down Olivia’s face. Not tears of joy for her daughter or grandson, but tears of sadness and pain, and, yes, anger. How could Hailey give a speech like that, knowing her mother was in the audience? She’d have to know how hurtful and humiliating her words would be to Olivia.

Olivia felt like storming out. She would have had that not meant even more people witnessing her embarrassment.

Even as she seethed in anger and resentment, a little voice tried to be heard. At first faint, but with each passing moment louder and more demanding of her attention.

You reap what you sow.

A kaleidoscope of images from the past cascaded through Olivia’s mind. Each showed missed opportunities, missed birthdays, missed events, missed breakfasts, and missed bedtimes. Times she could have been there for her daughters but had opted instead to prioritise her work.

At first it had just been simpler to allocate more of their care to Mrs. Foster in order to escape their sad accusing eyes and avoid their endless, awkward questions about why she and their daddy took turns to live with them. Guilt made it easier to stay away from home. Throwing herself even more into her career offered a refuge from her shame and sense of responsibility for what had happened. The more hours she worked the more relieved she felt. Yes, much easier to kiss a sleeping child than a hurt, wakeful one.

Later, with the track well worn, it was just accepted by everyone and before she knew it they were finishing high school and off to university. By then, they truly hadn’t needed her.

Awareness hit and hit hard, knocking the wind out of her. For nearly her whole adult life she’d made the wrong choices. She’d chosen avoidance over acceptance and making amends to her daughters. She’d chosen material success over love. She’d chosen money and prestige, status and career, over family. A career that had been dying a slow and painful death for five years.

Olivia slumped against the hard, wooden back of the pew. She was alone. They had each other. Hailey had made it clear with her speech that in her eyes Olivia wasn’t her mother, not in the real sense of the word. She was just the egg donor.

Olivia couldn’t avoid the truth any longer; she’d failed in the most important role of her life.

Steven, Lauren, the girls and their spouses had a close-knit circle of love and support. She had no one. She would never be part of their inner circle. She would never know love the way they knew it.

Defeat and loss, Olivia discovered, were worse than death.

Death gave you a reprieve from your choices. Defeat and loss had to be lived with.

END OF SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF