Page 17 of The Lies That Shatter
A deep, almost sarcastic chuckle bubbles from her lips, twisting her mouth into an ugly scowl. “Because I would lose too much. Do you know anything at all about my husband?” she asks, and my brain starts to tick over as I think quickly about what the right answer is.
“Honestly, I know a little. I have to confess, after our first date, I knew I liked you, but then you told me you were married. So, I went home and did a Google search on your husband. I’m sure it wasn’t the smartest thing for me to do, or the most reliable, but I wanted to see what I was getting myself into.”
I mean, it’s not a complete lie. I did my research on her husband. It was just a fuck load more than a simple Google search. And I did it before I even met her, with the help of Kel.
“What did you find out?”
“He’s richer than God. You’re both pretty active in the upper-class circles that I know nothing about. You attend a lot of charity galas and parties. You always look incredibly beautiful when you’re on his arm. You have a daughter together, though not much is mentioned about her. From what I read, you live a very happy life together,” I explain, condensing it down into the basics that would be easily accessible on the Internet.
The sides of Mel’s lips tip up into a sad smile. “They always say you shouldn’t believe everything you read in the news. I guess that’s the narrative that me and my husband wantto portray. Together we are a very powerful force within our society, and we are well known. It’s true, we go to all the charity events, and we donate heavily. But most of it is just the picture we want the world to see. We haven’t been in love for a very long time. We haven’t shared a bed for years either.”
I notice she sidestepped when I brought up Mia, but that’s okay. I don’t need to work on that part of the plan tonight, anyway. “I’m not asking you this because I want you to do it. I just want to understand. If you don’t love him anymore, why won’t you leave him?”
“As I mentioned, we’re a power couple in our society. We portray a certain image, and my husband needs me to help him maintain that image. We see our marriage as a business agreement. He benefits from having the perfect family, and I benefit from his wealth. I have no intention of ever leaving him. I’m sorry if that’s not what you want to hear,” she explains, though she doesn’t look as sorry as her words seem to portray. Clearly, money means more to her than happiness.
“I would never ask you to leave your husband. You made that clear to me from the beginning. I just want you to be happy, and I’m not sure you ever will be if you’re leading a double life, where most of it is a secret. Would it really hurt your husband’s business so much if you were to divorce? Admittedly, my Google search wasn’t extensive, but I couldn’t find much about what your husband’s business is.” I mentally cross my fingers, hoping I've included enough about our relationship to hide the ulterior motives behind my questions.
“Mortimer—my husband—he works in finance. I don’t know much about his business, but I believe he works with other companies and helps them to flourish. He backs them financially, supports them, and helps their businesses to grow, which will then see him get a return on the finances he invests. But for his business to be a success, he has to be seen as theperfect family man, taking on other family businesses to help them grow. That’s where I come in,” she explains, and I try to keep my face as impassive as I can whilst my mind is racing.
Fucking family man, my ass. He fucks children and abuses young girls. He’s the worst kind of predator, and he wants people to believe he’s the perfect family man. I don’t know if Mel is ignorant of what Whitlock is really like, or if she just doesn’t care. I really hope she has no idea, and that she’s just as much of a victim as the people he hurts. But if it turns out she knows, that she’s part of his sick, twisted world, then I will make sure she suffers alongside him.
“I can understand that. In your world, image means a lot. Aren’t you worried that people will see us together and it will ruin that image? I mean, we aren’t exactly subtle when we’re together, and given the maitre d’ knows your name, I’m guessing you’ve been here before,” I reply.
She reaches out and with the soft pad of her thumb, she slides it down my cheek before cupping my face with her palm. “It’s sweet that you’re worried about me. But, honestly, you have nothing to be concerned about. Even though everyone sees us as the perfect family unit, it’s also well known that we have an open relationship.
“When that particular piece of gossip first came out, it was such a scandal. Everyone questioned how good our relationship really was if we were having affairs. But that’s where the gossip was wrong—we’re not having affairs. I know about the dates he goes on, and he knows about you.
“We have a couple of rules that help our marriage to run smoothly, and as long as we stick to them, it works for us. After a while, the gossip died down. When people realised we weren't getting divorced, and that we were stronger than ever, they got used to the situation.”
The more I listen to Mel’s explanation, the more confused I am. It sounds more like a business arrangement than a marriage, and I can’t understand why the hell they would stay together if they have no love.
I have to stay away from the person I want to be with, and I fucking hate it. If I could be with her, nothing in this fucking world would keep us apart. That’s what love is supposed to be like, and I feel sad for Mel that she won’t ever have that. Even if she falls in love with someone, she won’t have the chance to live her best life with him, because she won’t leave Mortimer. The whole situation is so fucking sad.
But then I remind myself that, as far as I’m aware, Mel isn’t being forced into this. She could leave her husband at any time. Instead, she's choosing the lifestyle that comes with being married to Mortimer over her potential happiness.
As we tuck into our dessert, I focus on the rest of my plan. “So, your husband knows about me then? How would he feel if he knew that I wanted to take things to the next stage of our relationship?” I ask, my voice as deep and gravelly as I can make it.
To emphasise my point, I move my hand under the table and gently place it on the top of her thigh. It’s not high enough to be inappropriate, but it makes my intentions very clear.
“He knows about you, and he knows how I feel. I told him we’ve reached this stage in our relationship. Normally, I don’t bring men home, but I told him I wanted to make an exception with you. You’re not a one-night stand, or someone I want to just have casual sex with—which is what I’ve had in the past. I want more with you, and to prove how serious I am, I want you to be able to share my bed. Which is exactly what I told my husband,” she explains, as she mimics my hand movement by placing her own hand on my thigh. Only hers is inching much closer to my cock than I’m comfortable with.
I turn on my brightest grin, the one I know Mel loves. “Well, we better get the bill then, so we can head back to your place.”
She leans in with a smile that matches mine—though hers is definitely not fake the way mine is—and she presses her lips against mine. It’s hard and firm, a promise that tonight she wants to go further than we ever have before. As much as that turns my stomach, I have a job to do, and when it’s done, I can leave this life behind.
Ishould have left work over an hour ago. I’ve done my handover to Aleandro, who was only twenty minutes late tonight, which is almost a record—it’s usually well over an hour. Still, I can’t bring myself to go home. I keep finding little jobs that need doing. Equipment that needs to be restocked. Paperwork that needs to be completed. When in reality, I’m watching the fucking clock, wondering what the hell Finn is doing on his date with Mel.
Even though I know it’s all fake, and he’s doing this to save his family and bring down a vicious predator, that evil green-eyed monster that lurks just under the surface, bubbles up whenever I think about them together. The thought of anyoneputting their hands on Finn makes me want to tear them apart limb from limb. But with Mel, it’s so much worse.
Finn isn’t convinced that Mel is the heinous bitch I’m certain she is. Granted, I don’t have any proof yet that she’s just as evil as her husband, but I don’t need proof. Call it women’s intuition. Finn calls it jealousy, but he’s wrong, and when I prove that to him, I will relish in as many ‘I told you so’s’ as I can get.
“Mac, why aren’t you going home? It’s a Friday night. Surely you have something better to do than a shitload of paperwork that can wait until Monday. You’re a gorgeous girl, you should be out there getting handsome men to buy you lots of drinks before you let one of them take you home to ravish you. If I can’t be out there doing that, then you need to go so I can live vicariously through you,” Aleandro says, his voice taking on a much higher pitch than normal.
He’s been out and proud for a long time, and he is constantly telling me stories of all the dating fails he’s encountered whilst looking for Mr Right. At the moment, he would quite happily settle for Mr Right Now. And he takes it as a personal insult that a good-looking girl like me—in his words—is too boring to go out and find a man. What he doesn’t know is that I have no interest in finding a man… There’s no point, because none will ever live up to the one in my head.
This is usually the moment where I ask myself what the hell I’m doing? I mean, I’ve travelled over from Ireland to London, I’m potentially putting myself in harm’s way working for a known violent family, and I’m holding out for a guy who broke my heart. We’ve never even slept together, let alone gone on an actual date, and yet here I am, risking it all for him.What the fuck am I doing again?
What if this is all a big mistake? I’m the first to admit that I read way too many romance books. So what if I’m holding outfor this big romance that will never come? And if it does, what’s to say it will last?
