It’s risky coming here, especially in broad daylight. Someone could spot me, but I need to do this. I need to know why that bitch dobbed me in.
CHAPTER 40
LILY
“You sure the kid isn’t there?” I ask Barrett for the tenth time, and he rolls his eyes.
“Would you trust me already?”
I give in and nod, staring at the mansion, knowing I should trust my cousin after he made a few calls for intel to make sure the coast is clear.
Sighing, I get out of the car.
“Let’s do this.”
Following him through the gate and weaving up the path surrounded by foliage, we make it to the front door without a hiccup.
Then I ring the bell.
It takes a minute before it swings open, and when it does, I come face to face with my ex-husband.
Alexander’s eyes go wide at seeing us.
“What are you doing here? Don’t bring your crazy mess to my doorstep, Lilian.”
I roll my eyes, stepping over the threshold, and pushing him backwards as Barrett follows behind me, closing the front door.
“Is Melanie here?” I ask Alexander, and he frowns, looking from me to Barrett and back.
“What are you wearing?” he asks, taking in my latex outfit before his eyes widen. “It can’t be true? I figured you’d gotten yourself involved in something, but…”
“Focus, Alex.” I snap my fingers in front of his face. “Is Melanie home?”
“What? No.” He shakes his head. “She’s at her friend’s house.”
“I told you,” Barrett mumbles as he passes me, and then to Alexander. “Where’s your wife?”
“Tamara?”
“Jesus, Alex. How many other wives do you have?” I hiss and he frowns.
“Stop calling me that. It’sAlexander.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want to call you.”
“Why are you here? Don’t bring your toxic drama into my home!” Even as Alex carries on, Tamara’s voice calls down the hallway.
“Alexander. Who was at the door?”
I shoot Alex a smirk.
“Let’s go.” I shove his chest, and he stumbles back, nearly tripping, his face turning red with anger, but before he can start spewing his bullshit, I draw my gun on him. “Don’t say a fucking word, Alex. Get moving.”
He stumbles back again, but keeps his mouth shut, shuffling ahead of us to enter the back part of the house.
Stepping into the room they call the parlour, which is just a fancy name for a living room, we find Tamara sipping on a glass of red wine as she flicks the pages of a magazine.
“I think we should redecorate Melanie’s bedroom something like this. It will be more versatile to upgrade when she’s a teenager.”
