Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
I pulled over to the side of the road and grabbed my phone, replying that I could meet for coffee the next day at four. I gave him the name of a coffee shop around the corner from my office and didn’t even bother to sign off. Maybe I’d go and give him a piece of my mind or show him how much better off I was without him. Maybe I wouldn’t turn up at all. Either way, it felt good to be the one in control for once.
Thirty
Tristan
Mike Wilson wasn’t the only name Parker’s ex-fiancé went by, but it was his legal name. He was also Giles Wilson and Michael Sanders. I’d found him quickly and uncovered a number of semi-illegal activities he’d participated in when he was fresh out of university. He’d refined his MO over the last decade and Parker seemed like his first attempt to marry for money. She’d been lucky to escape without Arthur having to pay him off. Earlier today, I’d tracked back the cameras in Parker’s flat to a laptop used by Wilson and discovered what he was trying to achieve.
Tonight, I’d tell Parker. I wasn’t quite sure what her reaction would be, but I knew she’d want to know. I’d picked up cream puffs from a French patisserie in Knightsbridge when I’d called round to see Dexter earlier and they were already in the fridge, along with bottles of wine and champagne I’d pulled from the cellar in case she felt like celebrating.
“I’m back,” Parker called as she let herself in the front door. I stood, wondering where I should start.
I stepped into the hallway and watched as she took off her coat. I couldn’t exactly put my finger on what it was, but something was up. She was tense. “Hey. Good day?”
“Hi,” she said, voice a little more clipped than I was used to. She avoided meeting my eyes as she passed me in the corridor and headed into the kitchen.
“You okay?” I asked, turning to follow her.
She pulled the fridge door open and stared at the wine and the patisserie box. “I went to see my father today. He told me you both were in on our fake marriage from the beginning.”
My body drained of heat. She was pissed off. I hadn’t known what to expect this evening, but this wasn’t it. “Yeah, he figured it out. He knows you pretty well.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Her voice cracked. Instinctively, I went over to comfort her. I slid my hand to her back but she shrugged it off and spun to face me.
“Parker, I’m sorry. He asked me not to mention it to you.”
“What else have you not mentioned to me?” she snapped.
“Nothing.” I pushed my hands through my hair. I hated seeing her so upset over something I’d done. “Seriously, Parker. I’m not keeping anything from you.”
“I just need to know what’s real after everything that happened with Mike. Don’t you get that?”
The expression in her eyes almost killed me. “Everything with me is real,” I said. I understood that she carried scars because of what Mike had done to her, but I wasn’t him. “I barely knew you when you proposed. I’d known your father for years and owed him a great deal. Not only did I think he had a right to know you were prepared to game the rules of the trust, but I was worried about another man taking advantage of you. At the time, I didn’t know I’d be the one to marry you. In my shoes, wouldn’t you have done the same?”
“I thought you said he guessed what I was doing.”
“He did.” She wanted honesty, so I’d give it to her. “But if he hadn’t, I’d have told him. Arthur Frazer is a good man and he deserves my loyalty. There’s no way I would have married you under the circumstances without his blessing.” My hands stung like I’d struck her. It was harsh but it was true.
Silence stretched between us like a glacier.
“Now you know,” I said, still almost defiant.
“Now I know.”
I sighed. “There are things I need to tell you. You need to sit down.”
“More?” Her eyes grew wide and she backed up to the kitchen counter.
“Nothing to do with you and me, but I’ve found out what’s been going on with your apartment and the rose and the payments from your bank account. Let’s sit down.”
I grabbed a bottle of wine—this was clearly not a celebratory moment—and two glasses and followed her to the kitchen table. We sat across from each other.
“It’s taken me a while but it’s beyond doubt that Mike Wilson has been snooping around your flat. He’s the one skimming off the payments from the bank accounts, and he’s the one who hid cameras at your place.”
I couldn’t imagine how she felt, having agreed to marry a man who turned out to be a criminal. But I was going to end up making her feel worse before she felt better.