Chapter Thirty-Eight The Group Chats
After Bastian got her arm cleaned up and bandaged, which required a trip back to the front desk while she showered to get a first aid kit, Mirabelle pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top while Bastian did his nighttime routine. He had given her his phone and showed her the group chats between Casey and her friends for her to read while she waited for him to finish so they could go to bed. To her surprise, as she scrolled through the messages, she found herself starting to feel sorry for Eddie. Casey clearly had no feelings or respect for him and bragged about his obsession with her, how he would tell her he loved Mirabelle and wanted to be with her, cut off contact for a few days and then come back, begging her to fuck him.
Her mother was a prostitute and a stripper; you'd think she would do a better job of keeping him happy in the sack.????
Mirabelle frowned. There were plenty of nights she left Eddie unable to move; the problem was he never returned the favour, which made her less enthusiastic about it.
He's upset his grandparents won't turn his trust over to him because he married the daughter of a whore. I think I found my way in!
Mirabelle rolled her eyes. When he was with her, he didn't need the trust. He was making good money as a lawyer in one of the top firms in New York, and so was she. She wasn’t even aware he wanted control; he seemed perfectly happy getting the monthly payments.
She walked in on us having sex on the sofa today and immediately ran away without saying anything???? Honestly, it’s about time. I was ready to tell her myself.
Eddie is very upset; he didn’t want things to end that way; he wanted to tell her and ask for a divorce. He's terrified about what Bastian will do, and I have to admit I'm a little nervous.
I tried to get Bastian to fuck me a few times, and he wouldn't. It's obvious to everyone he's in love with her, which I can only put down to trauma bonding.
Mirabelle snorted. “Bastian wouldn’t piss on you to put you out if you were on fire.” She muttered.
That fucking Bitch! She got us both fired!
She fucking bled Eddie dry; if it wasn't for the trust, I'd be out of here so fucking quick! Neither of us has been able to find a job with another firm in New York. It looks like we're coming back to Michigan. ??????
Mirabelle flicked through the screenshots. She noticed that a lot of the time, no one responded to Casey's messages, and if they did, it was generic. “Oh, that's terrible!” platitudes, no one was actually engaging with her. She saw the ones where she announced finding Mirabelle's modelling shots. Her comments were not kind at all and full of barfing emojis. Then she saw something that made her heart stop.
I'm pregnant! Let's hope it has my nose! The honker its father has is way too much! ??
What are you talking about? Eddie has a beautiful nose.
Well, let's just say there might be another candidate ??
Seriously? After you destroyed his marriage?
I mean. I'm mostly sure it's Eddie's. There's just a tiny chance it's not ????
You know what? I'm out. If the rest of you want to support this homewrecker, go ahead, but I refuse to keep pretending I like her. Stay away from me and my husband, you tramp.
“Go fuck yourself. Like I would touch your husband with a ten-foot pole. ??”
Yeah, remember last New Year’s? I watched you try and saw you cry when he laughed in your face. If you ladies think she hasn't tried with your husbands, you're all on crack.
Ingrid has left the chat
Bastian came out of the bathroom, and Mirabelle looked up. “Did you attach all of these?”
“Yeah.” Bastian grinned and nodded as he sat down beside her. “Why?”
“Did you read them all?” She absolutely did not want Eddie’s family to find out about this through the email.
“No, I only glanced at them; Benji went through them while I went through the proof from the divorce and added that.” He frowned and ran his hands over her cheek. “Why?” Mirabelle passed him the phone, and he read the one on the screen. “Well, that's not surprising at all.” He shrugged and handed the phone back to her as he stood up and moved over to his side of the bed, climbing in behind her. “Send it to Victor. He's demanding a paternity test before he makes a trust for the kid.” He pulled her back against his chest, yawning as she sent Victor the text, and then took the phone back and plugged it in to charge.
Mirabelle leaned over and shut off her lamp, then snuggled back down against his broad chest. “Casey hit on you?”
“Yeah, at Tulk, not too long after she started,” Bastian mumbled, tucking her head under his chin.
“What did you say?” She asked curiously. Casey hadn’t given any hints about how he’d turned her down, but knowing Bastian and how much he disliked Casey from the moment he met her, she knew he’d probably been rude about it.
“No?” Bastian sounded confused. “You know I’d never, ever even come close to considering that offer.”
“I know.” Mirabelle smiled and rolled her eyes. She knew he had turned her down; that wasn’t what she was asking. “What did you really say to her?”
“Okay, fine.” He sighed. “I said, “Not a fucking chance.” She looked really insulted and asked me why, and I told her she reminded me of the woman I see in court.” Mirabelle burst into giggles as she realized he meant she reminded him of some old guy's mistress and felt his arm tighten on her waist. “How's your arm?”
“Sore.” Mirabelle glared at the bandages. Her arm was throbbing; the scratches had been much deeper than she thought was possible for a human to do, but Bastian pointed out she had fake nails that had been filed to a point.
“Are you sure you don't want to press charges?” He kissed the top of her head and gently rubbed her arm over the bandages. “You should at least report it.”
“Yeah.” Mirabelle nodded. She had taken some pictures of the scratches before she got in the shower, and when Bastian went to the front desk for the first aid kit, he’d also asked the desk clerk for the security footage so she had all the proof if she changed her mind later. “Part of the reason I responded the way I did was I wanted to make her angry enough that she would actually send out the slideshow.”
“Troublemaker.” Bastian chuckled. “I had planned on taking you to White Lotus Farms tomorrow. Unfortunately, Victor and Francesca are moving over to the Stone Chalet tomorrow and have rehearsals to attend. I don't know if Robert and Eleanor are going with them, but I wouldn't mind spending time with Peter or Benji if you want to invite Caroline or Lila.”
“If you invite Caroline, you invite Lila, and vice versa.” Mirabelle yawned. “And I think now that we’ve met everyone, they’d all expect to go so we can go by ourselves.”
“I'm okay with either. Although I'm a little sorry we wouldn't be able to take Victor and Francesca.” Bastian's voice had taken on a wistful tone, giving Mirabelle pause.
“What did Francesca really whisper to you?”
“That she would be proud to call me her son.” Bastian's voice caught, and he cleared his throat. “I'm just as disgusted with Eddie for what he's doing to his parents as for what he did to you. He has no idea how fucking lucky he was to be raised by people who care so much.”
“Bast.” Mirabelle felt a lump form in her throat and rolled over to hug him.
“Don't get me wrong, Mira, I wouldn't change anything about my life, but that's only because of you.” He kissed her and then tucked her head under his chin. “Get some sleep, Bunny.”