The Life You Stole (Life Duet 2)

“Sure. You rest. I’ll go take care of dinner, bath time, and the dog you brought home.”

“Evie …”

She marched out of the bedroom. I deserved that. I just didn’t have the energy to plead my case.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Graham

“What did you say?” Lila asked me as we ate dinner in the formal dining room. Just the two of us at a table for twenty.

“Say to whom?”

“The doctors and nurses who treated me at the hospital. Do you really think it’s not going to end up in the tabloids in the next few days?” She picked at her food with her good hand.

My wife looked like hell—bruised, broken, emaciated. She for sure pulled off the cancer look. Too bad it did nothing to make my dick hard.

“I told them you were mugged, and I didn’t want it made public.”

“And my hair?”

“I told them it was none of their business.”

Her shoulders curled inward as she dropped her head. “I told Evie I fell.”

“And your hair?” I parroted her words back to her.

“I have wigs. If she notices, I have it covered.”

“Well, maybe you should enlighten me so we’re on the same page.” I took a bite of salmon.

“I shaved my head in support of a little girl with cancer.”

I nodded. “Think she’ll believe it?”

Lila glanced up. “You better hope she does.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I dropped my fork onto my plate and blotted my mouth with the cloth napkin.

I had to give my wife credit; she didn’t back down.

“Either she believes me, or she suspects I’m being abused.”

“It was an accident.”

“You pinned me to the wall and twisted my arm to the point of breaking my wrist and dislocating my arm!”

I pounded my fist on the table and made her jump out of her disrespectful rage. “Enough!” Taking several slow breaths, I let my anger settle into control. “Did you not enjoy it?”

“I didn’t enjoy it,” she gritted between her teeth.

“You orgasmed.”

“If I give you a blowjob before slitting your throat, is it still murder?”

I really wasn’t trying to break anything. I just needed a release. It was, in fact, an accident. We’d had plenty of rough sex over the years. How was I supposed to know her screams were pain instead of pleasure when I did go out of my way to make sure she enjoyed it too?

Nothing.

Nothing was ever fucking good enough for her.

“If I left tomorrow … what would you do?” she asked, just above a whisper.

The legs of my chair whined against the hard floor as I scooted it back and stood. Leaning forward, I rested my fingertips on the table and cocked my head to the side.

“What would I do to you? Or what would I do to Evelyn and Ronin? Or maybe you’re concerned about the rest of her family. I believe sister dearest is pregnant. Although our mutual friend has failed to disclose that information to me yet. I’ll have a word with her. And the last I checked, her dad has a kidney I paid for, and those borrowed organs don’t last forever. So please … clarify whom exactly you’re referring to so I can give you the grim details of my plans for if my wife thinks she’s going to leave me.”

I wasn’t a total bastard. When she blinked, releasing a stream of tears, I plucked the napkin from her lap and dried them from her face before leaving her in the mess she made all by herself. As I reached the stairway, I called Jeremy.

“Bleach blond. Long hair. Five-six. Thin. Not too much makeup. And she needs to be wearing some sort of natural perfume that smells like flowers. Pick me up in an hour.”

I had a few drinks before Jeremy picked me up. It took impaired vision to overlook the fact that the woman waiting in the hotel room wasn’t actually Evelyn, just a knock-off. Although not a cheap one. The kind of woman who would let you do absolutely anything to her without ever leaking a single detail cost a fuck ton of money. Good thing I just so happened to have had a fuck ton of money always at my disposal.

My Evelyn knock-off stood at the end of the bed in the dimly lit hotel suite. I poured myself another drink and paused the glass an inch from my mouth. “Your name is Evelyn. Do you know how to make soap, Evelyn?”

She inched her head slowly side to side.

I took down the entire glass of whiskey. “You do. You know how to make soap.” I tugged at my tie as I crossed the room. “You know how to marry the wrong fucking guy. You know how to come in my mouth then act like it meant nothing. So why don’t you get on your knees and show me some goddamn respect for once?”