The call on the other end had barely been answered before the room behind me filled with ragged breath and stifled moans.
"Thrilling, isn't it?"
She probably hadn't expected me to open the door.
Oliver's shirt was soaked through at the chest. His arm was still around her waist, not yet pulled back.
"You... why did you open the door?"
Davina instinctively looked at Oliver, reaching to hold on tighter, but he shoved her away fast.
I looked at the two of them and raised an eyebrow.
"Showing up at someone's door in the middle of the night to cry. Swearing you're innocent with one breath and crawling into a man's arms with the next."
"Weren't you the one with all the rules? What happened—those only apply to other people? You don't follow a single one yourself, and somehow that's not a joke?"
Oliver's brow was knotted tight, his voice raw with a fatigue he couldn't mask.
"Maddie, I don't know how things got to this point."
"But it's a misunderstanding. You believe me, don't you?"
He glanced toward Butler Whitmore, signaling him to take Davina back first.
I turned to go back to my room, and he caught my arm.
His voice was low, threaded with impatience. "You haven't answered me."