Page 18 of Punish Me

I jerk the door open, and a smile graces my lips.

“Pleasant surprise seeing you two here.”

“Yeah, well, we’re heading out for dinner, and this one thought you might want to tag along,” Brayden says, pulling Shayla closer.

She smirks at him and looks back at me. “Just wanted to catch up and see how things are coming along. I’ve been buried in cases, and I know you’ve been busy, so I just wanted to see you.”

I know what she really wants to know, and I shoot her a look with a smirk before saying, “Let me grab my purse, and I’m ready to roll.”

“Okay. My guy’s name is on the office door next to yours. He’s moving up in the world with a corner office,” Brayden says.

“You should stop by and say hi,” Shayla encourages.

“No! Don’t...um, he had an important teleconference and said he didn’t need any distractions. The call just started a little bit ago,” I lie, grabbing my purse and rushing to the door.

The last thing I need is to come face-to-face with Ambrose in front of my brother. I’m not sure I can hide all my emotions now.

“Oh...okay. I’ll drop by another time.”

“Yeah, do that,” I say smoothly, closing and locking my office as I lead them down the hallway.

I keep praying that Ambrose and his daughter won’t pop up until after I’m in my car, following my brother and his girlfriend to the restaurant.

“Those are the cutest little kids. I can’t wait to start a family,” Shayla says, watching two toddlers at the table across from ours. She turns and smiles at my brother.

He leans over to kiss her before resuming eating his dinner.

“Speaking of kids, guess whose kid I met?”

“Who’s?” Brayden asks, turning to me.

“Ambrose’s.”

“Really?” he asks, smiling. “Cee-Cee is hellfire, and she’s going to give him a run for his money the older she gets.”

“How’d you see her?” Shayla asks.

“His wife popped up at the office with her unexpectedly earlier.”

Shayla gazes at me with concern, but I turn my eyes back to my plate.

“Ex.”

“What?”

“He divorced her. The smartest thing he ever did was to get rid of that manipulative, evil bitch,” Brayden says.

That comment snaps my head up. My brother never uses that term. He never calls women out of their names.

“Bray!”

“Nah, Bryn. You don’t get it. She deserves to be called worse than that.”

“Why? What did she do?”

My heart is pounding hard as I wonder about my brother’s rage. His eyes meet mine, and I see disgust and anger, but heartache lurks behind those emotions.

“Let’s just say that Cee-Cee wasn’t a mistake. Her conception wasn’t consensual.”

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