Page 50 of Bitten Shifter

Merrick’s gaze slides to me. “But I’d like to know.”

Dove interjects, her voice syrupy sweet. “It was just a little misunderstanding. A tiny quarrel, nothing major.”

Merrick arches a brow. “A small misunderstanding? She moved to an entirely different sector to get away from her husband. That’s quite the disagreement. And you are?”

“I’m her sister, Dove,” she replies with a simpering smile. “We have been so worried about her. She’s not well, you see. It runs in the family—onherfather’s side.”

Merrick’s expression remains neutral. “That sounds serious.”

“It is,” Dove says, dropping her voice as though sharing a secret.

Paul leans forward, pleading. “Look, I love my wife. I’d never hurt her intentionally. This whole divorce thing is ridiculous. She can’t just leave me!”

Merrick’s eyes narrow, his next question slices through the room. “You both reek of each other. Do you and Mrs Emerson have an open relationship?”

Paul splutters, face reddening. Dove freezes, her smile faltering. I lean back, satisfied by the first crack in their united front.

“Mrs Emerson recorded a home video before she left you.” Merrick continues, his voice calm, but the weight of his words and his poorly veiled anger presses down on the room. Dove and Paul exchange confused glances, not yet grasping the situation.

“If you would,” Merrick says, nodding for me to proceed. He is careful not to say my name. Which I appreciate.

Though my smile is strained, I slide the laptop to the centre of the table. The video is queued up, but I angle the screen away from myself—I don’t need to relive it. The memory of that day is enough to twist my stomach into knots.

I press play, and the brief, damning fifteen seconds that changed everything. The sound is muted but unmistakable, the betrayal etched into every frame.

Paul’s chair scrapes back violently, the crash as it hits the floor making me flinch. He is on his feet in an instant, lunging across the table to grab the laptop like a desperate man.

But Blondie is quicker. He sweeps the laptop out of reach and tucks it under his arm. “Now, now, no destroying Ministry property, Mr Emerson,” he says with a toothy grin, his amusement barely concealed. “Did you have that temper with your wife?” He steps away as the other guards close in, their presence a silent warning.

Paul bristles, puffing out his chest like a cornered animal. “I would never lay a hand on her!” His voice cracks with indignation.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Merrick says smoothly, his tone razor-sharp. “But you would have awful sex with her sister.”

“Awful?” Dove’s face flushes red. “It wasn’t awful!”

“It looked awful,” Blondie mutters. “Like you were having some sort of episode.”

A stunned silence hangs over the room. I clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh. I would have paid good money for him to say that. Is this really my life now?

Merrick does not miss a beat, his voice slicing through the quiet like a blade. “Let’s try this again, shall we? With the truth this time. Your wife, Mrs Emerson, caught you in the act with her sister. She recorded it because she knew you would deny it—as you have done repeatedly.”

Barry noisily jots something down in his file, shaking his head in disapproval.

Paul’s face flushes an ugly shade of red, his fists clenched at his sides. Dove, ever the opportunist, jumps in. “We didn’t think she’d be home!” she protests. “Paul said she’d be working late, that she had a big project. We didn’t think it would hurt anyone.”

“You didn’t think it would hurt anyone?” Merrick’s tone is incredulous. “Did it never occur to you, even for a second, how deeply it would shatter Lark to find out you were sneaking around with her husband? You didn’t think she’d notice her sheets reeking of the two of you?”

Dove has the gall to look offended. “I’d have changed the sheets. Lark just needs to come home, and we can continue as we were. I mean, we need her salary to keep the house!”

Merrick blinks, his expression blank. “Charming.”

Barry slides a document across the table to Paul’s solicitor, who scans it before standing and gathering his things. “We’re done here,” he says briskly, avoiding Paul’s attempts to grab his arm.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Paul snarls. “I paid you a fortune to be here!”

“There’s not enough money in the world to fix this,” the solicitor replies, straightening his tie. “Your wife is no longer your problem. The marriage has been annulled.”

Paul’s face twists with disbelief. “Annulled? That’s bullshit! You can’t annul nearly thirty years of marriage!”

---