Chapter 3
Three
Iblink at the picture, zooming in to get a closer look.
Still unbelieving, I close the picture to re-read the anonymous email. I had to have missed something.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Something you need to see
I don’t like being the bearer of bad news, but you deserve to know.
That’s the entire message and accompanying it is the picture. I open it again and am faced with the image of my fucking fiancée naked in the arms of another man in a bed. The picture has been shot through a window and neither Maude nor the man are aware.
What the fuck?
There’s no question Maude has been off lately, but I thought it was the pressure of our wedding this fall and all the planning and decision-making we’ve had to do. That, coupled with the fact that Asher and Anabelle were married this spring, something she’s told me on more than one occasion takes the shine off of our nuptials.
But this… her cheating was not on my radar.
Before I jump to conclusions, I download the photo and check all the metadata. This photo may be old. My hope is dashed when I find it was taken a few days ago. On the night that Maude said she’d be working late and had to do a few wedding prep errands.
“Fuck!” I slam my fist down on my desk.
Did I miss obvious signs all along? Ironically, I never told Maude that I enjoy sharing my partner because I didn’t think she’d be into it.
I like sharing.
But I don’t like liars.
And I’m certainly not going to marry one.
Our sex has always been… enjoyable, but not earth-shattering. And I was okay with that. I pushed my desires aside because I thought we had something more. I thought Maude loved me for me, not my name, nor my money, but if that’s the case, then why is sleeping with another man behind my back?
Putting Maude aside, who the hell sent this to me?
Asher.
My brothers always think they have to protect me like they did when we were younger, but I’m old enough now to take care of myself. They need to learn to stop interfering. I’m half tempted to walk down to my big brother’s wing and tell him off.
I look at the picture again. Maybe I should.
I print the picture, swipe it off the printer, and stomp toward Asher’s office. I don’t bother knocking before pushing open the door. Anabelle is in his lap, and I’ve interrupted something, but I don’t give a shit. His scowl doesn’t scare me.
“Next time knock,” he says.
I temper my anger to address my sister-in-law, since she has no part in our fight. “Anabelle, may I have a word with my brother alone?”
She looks at Asher, back at me, and slides off his lap. “I’ll see you in a bit.” She squeezes my shoulder when she walks by me, almost in sympathy.
Damn it all to hell. She knows.
The door closes, and Asher’s eyes swing to me. “What the hell is your problem?”
I cross the room, slamming the printed picture on top of some papers. “What the fuck is this?”
He looks at it and back at me. “Looks like your fiancée fucking another man.”
“Cut the shit. I know you’re the one who sent it to me. What’s wrong? Didn’t have the balls to tell me you’d hired someone to follow her?”
Asher’s eyes narrow, and he slowly pushes the picture toward me without his eyes leaving mine. “I didn’t. Though it’s not because I didn’t want to, believe me. I knew she’d screw you over from day one.”
“Asher, the all-knowing. How do you know Anabelle won’t do the same?”
His jaw clenches, and I’m happy I struck a nerve. “Watch it, that’s my wife.”
He’s right. Anabelle would never do anything to hurt Asher. Their love is true. But I’d thought mine was, too.
“Just admit you’re the one who sent me this. You’re always interfering and acting like you need to protect all of us, but you go that extra mile for me.”
“It seems in this case I was right.”
My fists clench, and I take deep breaths not to lunge across the desk. “Just wanted to let you know that your message has been received, and there will be no wedding.”
I spin on my heel and cross the room, afraid that if I stick around any longer, we’ll come to blows.
“Nero.”
I stop but don’t turn around.
“I’m sorry.”
I open the door and slam it shut behind me. He can shove his sorry up his ass.
The minute I reach my room, I text Maude and tell her I’ll meet her at her family estate this evening. She asks if everything is okay, but I don’t answer. It will do her good to be anxious about why I might be pissed.
I arriveat Maude’s family estate and get out of my car, stretching my fingers to ease the ache from how tightly I was gripping the steering wheel.
I knock on the door, and seconds later, she answers. Her red hair flows down her shoulders. Once I looked at her and felt only love. Now my eyes struggle to stay on her. As I’ve done all my life, I keep my expression neutral as she ushers me inside.
“How are you?” She leans in for a kiss, and I give her my cheek. She pulls back, her face contorted with confusion. “Is everything okay?”
“Where can we talk?”
Maude studies me and gestures to her left. “The parlor.”
Once we’re inside, I wait for her to take a seat first and take the one directly across from her. She notices the slight, her body stiffening when I don’t sit beside her.
“Nero, what’s going on?” She clasps her hands in her lap as though she’s some pious woman. What a fucking joke.
“How are you feeling about the wedding?” I ask.
Her shoulders lose some of the tension, easing into the couch cushion. “I’m thrilled. A little stressed about everything being perfect, but I get to marry the love of my life. What isn’t there to be excited about?”
A caustic laugh erupts from my throat, and her smile dies. I’m not sure she’s ever heard that sound from me—we’ve rarely gotten into fights since we started dating.
“If I’m the love of your life…” I reach into the inside pocket of my suit, pull out the picture, and unfold it. “Then who is this?” I place it on the table between us.
She glances down, eyes narrowing as if she doesn’t recognize herself, the man, or the bed. Finally, her face pales a ghostly white. “I… I…” She looks up from the picture and back down and up again as if she’s stalling to make some excuses as to why she’s sleeping around. “Where did you get this?”
I arch an eyebrow. “That’s the question you’re going to ask?”
Her back straightens, her shoulders square, as if she’s offended I would bring this to her. “The picture is old.” She bolts off the couch, choosing anger over getting caught rather than regret.
A cold smirk forms on my lips. “I looked at the metadata.”
Her eyes search, and her body fidgets. “It not true. I swear.”
She rushes around the table to sit beside me, taking my hand and clutching it between her modest breasts. It’s insulting that she’s suggesting someone could pull one over on me. There’s a reason I’m in charge of anything to do with computers and digital security for Voss Enterprises. I’m the fucking expert.
“Do you really think I wouldn’t look into it? The photo hasn’t been tampered with. Neither has the metadata. This was taken the night you told me you were working late and had wedding prep to do. I didn’t realize that meant spreading your legs for someone else.”
She studies my face and seems to realize she’s cornered, but her desperation won’t let her give up. She decides to try a different angle. “I can explain. It was a one-time thing. He’s?—”
I pull my hand from hers and stand, straightening my suit sleeves. “I don’t care who he is. He can have you.”
Her head rears back, and her mouth hangs open as if I struck her. “What are you saying?”
I lean in over her and meet her gaze. “There’s nothing I hate more than a liar.”
She reaches for my suit sleeve, her arms wrapping around mine, and stares up at me with pleading eyes. “But I made a mistake. I can make it up to you?—”
I’m not interested in watching her beg to keep my affections. “The wedding is off. Keep the ring, I don’t give a shit.”
She stands, and I step back. “That’s it? You’re just going to leave me?”
I keep my expression neutral. “What did you expect? It’s too bad. If you’d told me you were interested in sleeping with another man, maybe we could have shared you.” I shrug. “What’s done is done. As are you and I. Goodbye, Maude.” I make my way toward the door.
“Wait! Wait! Nero!” She rushes behind me and grips my elbow, trying to turn me around. “I’m sorry.”
I face her with one hand on the doorknob of the estate’s front door. “I’m sure you are.”
I swing the door open and walk toward my car, listening to her dissolve into sobs behind me. When I reach my car, I glance at the front door. Maude’s sister comforts her as their mother stands in the open doorway, watching me leave with a pissed-off expression that could challenge mine. Once the door is shut, I start my engine.
Good riddance.
I punch the steering wheel, my emotions coming to the surface once I’m alone.
Taking one last look at an estate I’ll never be at again, a flicker of movement in the attic catches my eye, but when I look up, the curtain is in place over the small window. I must be seeing things. No one else lives in that house, and I just saw all three women at the front door.
Shoving the car into drive, I whip around and then down the dirt road that leads out to the main road, ready to put this marriage shit behind me.