60. EPILOGUE
EPILOGUE
STEPHEN
I felt the warm sea breeze hit me as I walked out to the pool. I bought this place in Marbella a few years ago to get away from the city life.
I pulled my phone out of my trouser pocket, dialling Sebastian’s number again. It rang before cutting out.
That ungrateful son of mine.
I’d spent years putting him through the most prestigious education, buying him expensive gifts for his birthdays. This was how he repaid me?
I made my way over to my wife, Monica, who was sunbathing on the loungers by the pool.
I handed her the glass of wine and she smiled at me, taking a sip.
My eyes drifted from her long, tanned legs, the bikini bottoms hardly covering that curvy bum of hers, then meeting those perfectly perky breasts that were on show, soaking up all the sun.
I watched her place the wine glass down on the table, her bright red lipstick staining the rim, and sat down on the lounger next to her.
“Did you manage to get hold of your son?” she asked, pulling her sunglasses down to meet my eyes.
“No. He’s not taking my calls,” I replied, trying to hide my frustration, picking up the newspaper on the table.
“I guess our next stop is London, then.”