Page 131 of Worth Every Penny

“Fuck’s sake,” Matt curses. “Come. You’re the one that wants the dirt on her boyfriend and this Curtis chap.”

“You should confront her about the cheating first.”

Matt closes his eyes and hangs his head for a second before he rubs his temples and mutters something under his breath. “Give me five minutes, then bring Elliot in.”

My niece pops into my mind. "What about Lucie? Is she home?" If there's anything a three year old kid shouldn't witness, it's whatever's about to go down between her parents.

Matt checks his watch. "Not now. She's at playgroup." He snaps into action, opening the car door and getting out. Hechucks a spare key at me, slams the door and marches up to his house like he’s going to war.

He disappears inside and I make a note of the time. I’ll give him ten minutes, not five. Who the hell can confront their wife and say what they need to say in five? Matt’s efficient, but he’s not that good.

When the time is up, I use the key fob to open the iron gates and make my way to the door of the large white Palladian style house. Everything is perfect. There’s not a crack in the paintwork, no weeds in the window boxes.

Behind me, I sense Elliot Maxwell’s presence. He keeps his distance, but I know he’s there, emanating a dark, threatening energy. He’s a man I wouldn’t want to cross, and I’m always pleased he’s on our side. He slides like a shadow through the gate, easing it closed so it doesn’t clang.

I open the front door and step into the grand hallway. It’s sleek and modern in here, because Matt and Gemma ripped out the original interior when they moved in. There’s a two-level basement with an indoor pool, gym, and cinema room, and a lift beyond the staircase. In case they’re too tired to walk to the top floor.

It’s gorgeous. Not my style, but for a family home, it’s the top of the market.

Unfortunately, the pristine interior is surface level only. The yells coming from the drawing room indicate a turbulent family life. Phrases meet my ears that don’t sound new; they run in well-worn grooves. They’ve had these arguments before.

“You’re never here.” Gemma’s voice is high and screechy, making me grind my molars. “You don’t give a shit about us. When did you last spend time with your kids?”

“This isn’t about the kids. This is about you fucking another man. In my house.”

Something smashes and I wince.

“Our house,” Gemma yells. “And if you ever came home, maybe I wouldn’t need to fuck anyone else.”

“Don’t you dare put this on me.”

“It is on you. You’re a shitty husband and a shitty father.”

“I’m not the one getting caught screwing a stranger on the kitchen table by my teenage son.” Matt’s voice strains with the effort of holding back an unwieldy amount of rage. “That alone is going to cost a fuckload in future therapy.”

Something else smashes, and a tiny splinter of white porcelain shoots out across the hall, landing near my foot.

“Therapy?” Gemma screeches. “Maybe if you’d gone to therapy once in your God-damned life, we wouldn’t be here.”

Shit. Ten minutes definitely wasn’t enough.

Beside me, Elliot’s face is completely blank, as though he can’t hear the conversation at all. I’m thankful for his professionalism because this is way too personal for the staff.

“When was the last time we had sex, Matt? When was it? Can you even remember? Do you even care?” Gemma is screaming even louder now. If the house wasn’t so big, I’d be concerned the neighbours could hear. “You don’t want to fuck me anymore. Admit it. We don’t even like one another. This marriage is fucking bullshit. ”

Matt is quiet for a moment. “Something we agree on, then.”

“Sir,” Elliot says, his voice low as he gives me an uncertain glance. “Should we come back later?”

“No. Don’t fucking go anywhere,” Matt barks, striding out into the hall. His eyes are wild and his chest is heaving. This is seriously fucked up. “Get in here,” he demands, pointing down the hall to the room he just came from.

Elliot marches forward as instructed, the size of his muscles causing his gait to roll.

I hang back.

“Is this the right moment?” I caution Matt.

“Do you want to get that fucker Brooks, or what?” Matt hisses, and I’m suddenly struck by Matt’s capacity to remember my concerns, even in the midst of his own turmoil. His question propels me to action, and I give a terse nod before following Elliot.

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