Page 78 of Stealing His Cupcake
He didn’t just say I was his. He also said he was mine. He is mine and if he thinks he can just run away from me, he’s got another damned thing coming.
The old Amy would have given up. She would have cried herself out, then picked up the pieces of her life and tried to glue them together to resemble something normal. I am not that person anymore. I am not interested in picking up broken pieces. In rolling over with the punches. Ironically, it was Wyatt who taught me I don’t have to take anyone’s bullshit, not even his, so I won’t.
I will find my fucking husband and I will remind him that whether he likes it or not, he’s mine, and I’m not letting him go. He’s not the only one allowed to have an unhealthy obsession.
Gathering myself and the stupid divorce papers up, I head back to the house. Wyatt’s laptop is gone but he has gotten me my own, and I intend to put it to good use.
An hour and two long phone calls later, I’m stumped. Both the local lawyer and a prestigious Minneapolis law firm confirmed that there’s nothing I can do to stop the divorce from happening. Apparently, I can contest parts of the divorce like the assets settlement, which both representatives told me would be stupid since Wyatt left everything to me, but I can’t contest the divorce itself. If Wyatt wants to get divorced, we’re getting a divorce. Or so the asshole thinks.
He can get a divorce. If there’s nothing I can do to stop it, then I won’t waste my energy on it. However, if he thinks he will be rid of me by divorcing me, he is gravely mistaken.
Have a great life.
With a furious scream, I grab the glass bowl of fruit from the kitchen island and throw it against the wall. It shatters, shards of glass flying everywhere. The bananas slide on the floor, leaving a mushy stain on the wall, the apples roll away, collecting a shiny frosting of the glass shards. Polite Amy would be horrified by the outburst.
“Fuck polite Amy!” An empty cup follows the bowl, adding ceramic shards to the smattering of the glass ones. Polite Amy was weak. She let everyone take advantage of her, never standing up for herself, never fighting back, but she’s gone now, and new Amy is fucking pissed.
I’ve never been particularly vengeful, but now all I crave is to make Wyatt feel even a scrap of the pain ravaging my heart. I want to find him and make him pay. Make him understand in no uncertain terms that he doesnotget to leave me, because my forever truly lasts forever and nothing short of death will keep me from him.
Taming my erratic breathing, I force myself to focus. “Alright. First, I have to find the fucker.”
How do you find an experienced hitman who doesn’t want to be found? I will need help with that, ideally from someone who won’t go to the police. They would find him for me, but then I’d have to visit him in jail, and I have no interest in sharing him with a bunch of inmates. Wyatt is mine. He will come back to our house to live with me and we will have our happily ever after. Together. Here. There are no alternatives.
I wish I had Slava’s number or a way to contact her. I’m sure I could convince her to hunt down Wyatt for me. Unfortunately, I know nothing about that part of Wyatt’s world. That’s going to change once I get him back, because he will include me in all parts of his life. I can be his damned manager or a personal assistant or whatever, but I won’t let him keep a part of him hidden from me anymore.
What I need right now is a skilled personal investigator and, as luck would have it, my best friend is freshly dating one. Not wanting to explain everything to Kayla unless I have to because, boy, that’s going to be a long conversation, I scroll through our message thread to find her boyfriend’s full name before typing it in Google. A sleek, modern website states that Ethan Bennett reviews each case individually and reserves the right to decline clients at his discretion. Well, he can try and deny me. Pissed off as I am, I will tear him a new one. The prices listed on the website would normally make my eyes water, but now that Wyatt left me all his bank accounts and investment portfolios and other whatnots, along with the house and car, I can afford to hire a dozen Ethans.
The phone only rings twice before he picks up. “Bennett.”
Damn, his voice is smooth. Kayla sent me Ethan’s pictures so I know he’s hot, though not nearly as hot as Wyatt, and he clearly has a voice to go with it. No wonder she’s so enamored. “This is Amy Hudges. Um, Kayla’s friend?” I’m fairly certain Kayla mentioned me in front of him, but he might not recognize my name right away.
“Oh, yes. Is everything alright? Do you need me to call Kayla?”
“No, actually, I was hoping to talk to you. I’d like to hire you to find someone for me, but I need you to be absolutely discreet about it.”
There’s a beat of silence. “I will help you with whatever you need, Amy, but I won’t keep a secret from Kayla. I share everything with her.”
Well, he’s certainly as enamored of her as she is of him, if not more. “Yeah, that’s fine, I guess. It’s not like I can keep it from her forever. I was more concerned about you going to the police, though.”
“The police?” Ethan’s voice turns concerned. “Did someone hurt you?”
“No.” Just tore out my heart and stomped on it. “Not like you think.”
There’s a rustle from the other side of the line, and I recognize Kayla’s voice. “Who is it?”
“It’s Amy,” Ethan replies to her. “She wants my help to find someone. So, Amy, who am I supposed to find? And don’t worry. I don’t have a habit of snitching on my clients.”
Now that I know Kayla is listening, I almost don’t want to say it out loud, but I guess there’s no getting around it. Ethan is my best bet if I want to find Wyatt. I could try to hire someone else but a stranger might not be as accepting of Wyatt’s occupation as Ethan hopefully will be. “Alright.” I sigh. “Kayla, don’t freak out, okay? I need to find my husband.”
Chapter 56
Amy
“WHAT?!”
Even though I’ve preemptively pulled the phone away from my ear, Kayla’s shriek makes me wince. My girl can certainly make some noise.
“AMY HUDGES! What the actual fuck? What husband?! Is this a joke? Please tell me it’s a joke. It’s barely been two months since you got rid of Craig and you’re already thinking of getting married? What is going on? Actually, never mind. I’m heading to Kansas City straight away to knock some sense into you.”
