Chapter 23- Mark
I banged on Janet’s front door hard enough to wake the dead.
Three days.
Three goddamn days.
Zane hadn't been home since Monday morning. She said she was going to meet Sam at some job site, and I hadn’t heard from her since. No texts. No calls. No passive-aggressive notes on the fridge. Nothing. And now, her phone was off.
I knew something was off. Knew it the second she started walking around the house in silence, started sleeping in the guest room, and asking me about money and deeds. Stuff that wasn’t her business.
She was thinking too much. I didn’t like when Zane thought. That wasn’t her role. That was mine. She was there to cook and clean and look pretty. All the men at the office envied me because I had her.
The door swung open. Janet stood on the other side in a silk robe barely covering the black lingerie underneath. Her hair was curled. Lipstick perfect.
I didn’t care.
I wasn’t here for that.
"Where’s your husband?" I demanded, voice clipped.
She blinked, lips parted slightly. “Excuse you?”
"My wife hasn’t been home in three days. She said she was meeting Sam at a site. I haven’t seen her since, and your husband’s not answering the phone."
Janet folded her arms under her chest, clearly annoyed I wasn’t drooling over the view.
“Why would she be meeting him at a site?”
"He hired her."
Her brows pulled tight. “He what?”
I exhaled sharply through my nose. "He came to my house to pick up some papers and then they dropped the bomb on me that he hired her. She hinted at me having an affair. I had to let her."
Janet tilted her head slightly. “Sam didn’t mention her. Not once.”
“Convenient,” I muttered.
She pulled her phone out and tapped quickly.
I pushed past her into the house and paced her floor.
Why would Zane not come home?
She wasn’t bold. She wasn’t brave. She was trained better than that.
I’d spent years refining her. Breaking the spirit she had when we first met.
Zane wasn’t strong-headed, but she was smart.
She pushed back, sure—but I studied psychology.
I studied people. Judges, jurors, liars, and weak-willed women.
I knew how to break her bad habits. With time, Zane had stopped needing her own opinion.
She started looking to me before she spoke That was peace.
Janet’s phone buzzed.
“It’s him,” she said.
“Don’t tell him I’m here—just say you heard.”
She hit speaker.
"Yeah?" Sam’s voice filled the room.
"Where’s Zane?" she asked.
"The neighbor? Why the hell would I know?" he replied. Too calm to be guilty.
"You hired her," Janet snapped. "She was supposed to meet you on-site Monday morning. She never came back home."
"That doesn’t have shit to do with me. I sent her to the site. With the other crew members. She didn’t show. I didn’t think about it—thought her husband told her no."
"Where are you again?" Janet asked.
"North Florida," Sam said, irritation seeping through the speakers. "I told you. I got a few jobs here after the conference. I’ll be back in a few weeks."
Janet looked at me.
"When did you hire her?" she asked him, her voice tight.
Sam paused. "She was walking past the house while I was working on my car a while ago. Said she needed work. I gave her some. Same as I did for a couple other neighbors. You know I help when I can."
I frowned. Fucking do-gooder. This was his fault.
Janet nodded slowly like it suddenly made sense.
Sam’s tone shifted. “Why are you interrogating me?”
She stumbled over her words. “I—I was just surprised. That’s all. Never mind.”
She hung up without another word.
I stared at her. “You believe him?”
She gave a half-smile. “Your wife is not his type, so that’s not something we have to worry about.”
“Excuse me?” What the fuck did she mean my wife wasn’t his type? If Janet was his type, he would have no problem being attracted to Zane. She was young, pretty—she had the things Black guys liked.
Janet stepped forward, and I knew she was about to toe the line I kept telling her not to cross. I would never leave Zane for her. I wasn’t stupid.
“Zane’s probably off pouting, trying to get your attention. You ignored her too long. She’ll be back. But if she doesn’t—” Her eyes dropped to my chest, then lower. “—then I guess I get to keep you all to myself.”
Something inside me snapped.
I shoved her. Hard.
"That’s my wife you’re talking about."
She stumbled back, but the smile never left her face. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Then she dropped to her knees in front of me like she’d been waiting for that moment all night.
“Accept my apology?” she pouted up at me, her big blue eyes exuding fake innocence.
Her hands moved quickly as she undid my belt and pants. My mind was occupied with other things though.
This was why I never let Zane go anywhere.
Janet distracting me by opening her mouth and taking what I gave her, without words, and right now, that’s exactly what I needed—control.
Something I hadn’t had since Monday.
My thoughts blurred as I stared down at the top of her head.
Zane was different than Janet in more ways than one.
Beautiful, but na?ve. And she never quite fit into the mold my parents wanted for me. They didn’t like her background. Thought she wasn’t cultured enough. And truthfully, they were right.
Though her parents were lawyers and she came from some money, they weren’t wealthy—and they were social justice warriors. They never liked me either.
Zane was eager to please me back when I met her. She ignored her parents when they told her not to marry me. She was willing to change her wayward ways. She wanted to be enough for me, and I made sure she believed she never would be—unless she had me.
But Janet? She’d always been wild. I met her when I was a senior in high school. She was a freshman, mouthy, and ready for everything the world told her not to want. I took her virginity in the back of my father’s car, and we were together that entire summer.
Then I went to college. We lost touch.
Years later, I moved into this neighborhood with my perfect little wife—and Janet was next door. Married now, but still wild, still needy. Still tempting. She was easy to buy with a few handbags and shoes.
She wasn’t as beautiful as Zane. Not as soft. Didn’t smell as good. Didn’t fuck as well.
But cheating with Janet scratched something in me.
Made me feel powerful.
Especially knowing her husband was some young thug who she said could have any woman he wanted. But I could have his wife. That made me better.
Knowing she was crawling on her knees for me, not him, made me want to beat my chest.
I tangled my fingers in Janet’s hair, sat back onto the sofa. She didn’t drop my dick from her mouth as I leaned back.
Zane would come back.
She always did.
But if she didn’t…
Well.
There were plenty of ways to make her regret it.
I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy my win.