Page 51 of Room Service
I didn’t go back to sleep after Elise woke up in pain. I just lay there, listening to her breathing peacefully, finding myself wanting her to have the same peace in life that she does in sleep.
I’ll give her that peace, even if it doesn’t include me. I’m hoping it does, something I never thought I’d hope for, but if it doesn’t, then I want to know she’s going to live her life with no worries of an out-of-control soon-to-be ex-husband to worry about. The ex-husband part will come quicker than expected for her, because I’ve already been in touch with my solicitor, and she will have full access to my legal team to divorce his arse the minute she says the word.
I’ve also hired a private investigator to get every single bit of dirt on him that I can, so she can use it in the court room, if it comes to that. I don’t expect it to because my team will wipe the floor with him before he gets the chance to step one foot in front of a judge. And then, only then, when she’s well out of the equation, will I go after the bastard and show him exactly why he should never have touched her.
It's going to pain me to no end to bide my time, but I can exert patience for her. She doesn’t need any comebacks from the cunt that made her life miserable.
I’ve got two guys on the way to the house she used to share with him, to get any belongings she may have there, and another two that will watch the weedy fucker until I’m ready to pounce. This is when having an obnoxious amount of money pays off, because without it, I wouldn’t be able to do half the shit I’ve put in place already today, and it’s not even nine in the morning.
My phone vibrates to the side of my laptop, and I see Gabriel’s name flashing on the screen.
“Morning,” I say as I pick up the call and stand from the couch, needing more caffeine.
“Dude, tell me when I can let Chantel loose, because she’s dying to get all the details of how your date went last night,” he says, not bothering with any formalities first.
“This is why you don’t tell your woman anything, Gabe, because she’s like a dog with a bone.”
“Did you just call my wife a dog?”
I roll my eyes. “Not in the way you’re implying, you twat.”
“He called me a what?” I hear Chantel screech in the background, and then Gabe’s laughter rings out.
“Fuck my life, are you trying to make my life more difficult?” I question, but he just laughs harder.
“It amuses me,” he replies, and then he stops laughing. “Wait, why more difficult? Is something wrong? Did last night not go to plan?”
“Not exactly,” I admit. “And you spend far too much time with your wife. You ask just as many questions as she does.”
“Not quite, I’m sure she’ll have plenty more than me when you’ve let us in on what has made things more difficult in the space of fourteen hours.”
With a sigh, I resign myself to the fact that they will be knocking on my door imminently. “I’ve got the coffee ready. You better come up.”
“As if we weren’t already. See you in a few.” He hangs up the phone and I take some extra mugs out of the cupboard, ready to regale them with what went down last night. It might do me some good to offload a little. I tend to be a closed book most of the time, but they’re the family I chose and they’re the only ones I’ve ever opened up to, when the need has called for it.
Two minutes later, the knock comes at the door, and I let them both in.
“Is everything okay?” Chantel asks, concern her first response.
“Sit down, I’ll get the coffees,” I say, and they make their way to the couch while I get the caffeine. Pretty sure I’m going to need a shit ton of it for the rest of the day.
“Something’s different,” Chantel muses when I set the coffee down and park my arse on the oversized chair.
“Can’t wait to hear what,” I mutter sarcastically as I pick up my coffee and settle back.
“Wait… is she here? Because even as you radiate some kind of tension, I sense that you haven’t just been dumped.”
“Has she got a fucking camera in here?” I say as I make a point of looking around and scouring the corners of the room for surveillance.
“It’s a gift, apparently,” Gabriel says, earning a dig in the ribs from his wife’s elbow.
“So, is she here?” she asks excitedly.
“See? Dog with a bone.” I smirk, and it earns me a scowl from her.
“We’ll talk about this dog and bone shit later, Dukes, but right now, just answer my bloody question,” Chantel says, not sounding the least bit threatening but trying to.
“Yes, she’s here, but it isn’t because of what you’re thinking.”
