Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Why else would I be here? Could you go tell, Amina I’m here. I’m going to take her out to lunch.”
“Does she know that? Dr. Carter and I had lunch plans for the office today and it’s my understanding that Amina is joining us.”
“Well, I guess Amina won’t be participating because I’m here now. She’s not answering her phone. Go fetch her for me.”
Ethan balled his fists at his sides. All it would take would be one punch and he was certain this fucker would fold. Men who abused women were usually the type of cowards who wouldn’t challenge another man.
“First of all, if she’s not answering her phone, it probably means she’s busy and doesn’t have time to speak with you. Second, that’s not how you ask someone. I’m not a dog.”
The other man’s eyes widened briefly before his lips titled into a shit-eating grin. “Oh, my bad. I thought you people liked dogs. I meant no offense.”
This wasn’t the first time, Ethan had been hurled that offensive insult but coupled with the fact that this bastard was harming Amina made something within him snap.
“What the hell did you just say?”
Ethan advanced and just like the coward, Ethan knew he was, Mark held his hands up in supplication.
“Whoa, man. I didn’t realize you couldn’t take a joke.”
“What part was supposed to be funny?”
“Hey, I can go get Amina for you,” Susan interrupted.
“Dr. Han, I placed that order at Lucky’s, so the food should be here in a half hour.”
Ethan turned to see Amina walking down the hall toward him. She halted when her gaze connected to her husband’s. Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened.
“Ugh, Mark…what are you doing here? I-I wasn’t expecting you.”
Ethan’s protective instinct kicked in and he moved closer to Amina, placing his body in between her and her husband’s.
Mark glared at him and then at Amina. “Is there a problem with me dropping by to see my wife?”
Amina maneuvered her way around Ethan and hurried to Mark. “Of course not. I just didn’t think you would stop by the office today. Is there something you needed?”
“Get your purse. I’m taking you to lunch.” Though he spoke to Amina, his wary gaze remained on Ethan.
“I-I’m organizing lunch for the office. I can’t today.”
“So what you’re saying is you’d rather work than to go to lunch with your husband?”
“Of course not, but I have an obligation and I don’t want to back out of it.”
Ethan wanted to intervene but he had a feeling that whatever he said would make things worse for Amina.
Mark shot Ethan a glare before turning his angry gaze to his wife. “Bet. I’ll you at home.” He stormed off to the exit.
“Mark wait!” Amina chased after him, catching up at the door. “I’ll go with you, just let me talk to Dr. Han first to see if I can make arrangements for someone else to handle the order.”
Ethan shouldn’t have let her walk out the door that day.
It was the last time he’d seen her alive, because she called the office shortly after she left, and said she wasn’t feeling well. The next day Amina called in to say that she had a family emergency and could no longer work there.
“Ethan, are you still there?” Frank asked.
He’d zoned out for a moment, recalling the last time he’d seen Amina. He remembered the frantic way she’d tried to appease a man who would never be satisfied. The way her voice trembled when she spoke to her husband. The way her hands shook. How her lips trembled.
He saw the pure terror.
“That bastard killed her.”
Chapter
Eight
Ethan adjusted his tie, as he entered the funeral home for Amina’s wake. Since he’d learned of Amina’s passing, he scoured the obituaries for any information on a funeral service for her but could find nothing. He finally resorted to looking into her personnel files and looking up an emergency contact number.
Of course, that bastard was listed, and he didn’t think a call from him would be welcome. So, he’d asked one of the nurses to call Mark to see where the office could send flowers and to see when a service would be held.
He learned there was only going to be a private viewing at a funeral home in the city.
Maybe he was crossing a line by showing up to a place he clearly wasn’t invited to, but Ethan needed this one final goodbye if for nothing else, than to have some closure.
The funeral parlor was cold and sterile. The soft sound of organ music played over the speakers that were affixed to the corners of the wall. A bald man with heavy lines in his dark brown face, stood in the center of the hallway. Judging from his dark suit and white gloves, Ethan assumed he was the funeral director.