Page 121 of Ella Gets the D
“You’re both disgusting.” I jerk away at the suggestion of women they tag-teamed.
“Call off the divorce.” The edge in Charles’s tone scrapes the bottom of the barrel he must be in to pull such a stunt. “I would hate to see photos of you end up in the news. There’s still time for us, El.”
“You son of a—”
A flash of ebony moves out the corner of my eye in time for me to catch Erica before she puts hands on him. “Keep Silkk in the bag.”
She sneers. “That’s blackmail.”
Vengeful eyes the color of envy pierce into mine. “Want to go to the police?” He shrugs. “Good luck keeping a low profile when I take it to court. The blogs will eat up my wife cozying up to Julian Brooke after he reconciled with his former fiancée. Is that what you want?” I dodge the hand he raises to stroke my cheek, triggering a thunderous glare over a heavy sigh. “Youwere always difficult. Final warning, Ella. Call off the divorce and come home where you belong.”
Charles turns on his heel and heads for the main door in a series of long strides. If Julian had his way, he would’ve unleashed enough fury on Charles to bury him for three eternities the second his assumptions proved true. He wanted to protect me with legal action and knocking out a few of Charles’s teeth, but those options would lead to a very public battle, one I refuse to drag my kids through. They’ve been through enough.
“See you around,” Asher says with a wink before taking off after his brother.
“Girl, what in the entire fuck?” Erica searches for a plausible explanation, but it’s simply not there. Charles is out for blood, and he doesn’t care how deep he has to cut to get what he wants.
His misery is a steel weight that buckles every muscle I have to fight against it. This is bigger than Julian.
Charles won’t stop until he wins, even if it breaks me in the process.
Chapter 46
Julian
“Would you please look at me?”
Coming into the office was a mistake. The smart thing to do would’ve been to call off or work from Antonio’s penthouse. Risking a secondhand STD in a home in need of a black light and year’s supply of disinfectant wipes was a better option than facing the curious frowns that have been tipping over cubicles.
I’d have also avoided the woman I’ve dodged since someone fed The Capitol Tea Report photos of us. For all I know, she was the one who gave the blogs the photos.
The blog released the photo of Camila leaving my London hotel last year. It spread across social media and has yet to extinguish.
Are we back together?
Will we walk down the aisle soon?
The attention is unlike anything before. My home was always off-limits, tucked behind the shield of an LLC, but now it’s for public consumption. Would-be reporters took turns creeping around Swigs after an “anonymous tip” so often I swappedhouses with Antonio to keep them off my scent. They haven’t discovered the townhouse with Ella and the kids a few blocks down, and I’ll do what’s necessary to keep it that way.
Ella is a fantasy, an answered prayer wrapped in hips and thighs. She’s my place of peace, and I’ll protect her with everything I got.
“I never meant for this to happen.”
“Were you involved?”
Camila steps back when I finally look up from my computer screens. If she expected sympathy, she’s in the wrong office. My mother’s name isn’t etched on a door plate, but she’ll be here soon for her standing lunch date with my father. Camila can cry to her.
I didn’t put two and two together—that my ex was the other woman in Ella’s marriage, or at least one of them—until El dropped the bombshell. How could I? Camila has been Director of Philanthropy at Mt. Corbel Health since her father created the position for her after grad school. That was five years ago, around the time we broke up and well before Ella and her ex relocated to the area. I barely travel to Virginia as is, and I wouldn’t remember the clean-shaven Wolverine knockoff from an assembly line of suits clawing their way to status.
Executives. Politicians. They’re all the same.
Now that our paths have crossed, I won’t forget the snarl on his vindictive face or the hatred for the woman I love in his green eyes.
It took everything I had to stay inside and not rush over to beat the shit out of him after Ella’s call last night. Hugh Jackman will wish he had superpowers if he steps to her again. He already crossed the line, and it’s a struggle to let El handle him as she sees fit when all I want is to speed up the karma headed his way—accomplices included, like this one, who hasn’t stoppedher soap opera performance while doing backbends to dodge accountability.
“Were. You. Involved?”
Charles made good on his promise. The Capitol Tea Room also published the photo of me and El in front of Swigs today, igniting questions about the relationship I don’t have with Camila and whether or not I’ve changed my “playboy” ways. Threats of legal action were enough to omit “the other woman” is still married, but the photo is out there for all to fixate on until her identity comes to light.
