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Chapter Twelve
Rémy
The look of utter hurt on Cora’s face when she turned and ran out of the club will forever be burned in my mind. I never wanted to hurt her. This whole mess with Brittney is ruining my life.
“Sorry, Rémy, I didn’t see her,” Félix says apologetically.
“I know. I need to leave.” I start to slide out of my seat and go after Cora, when Julian comes up to me, a look of worry on his face. “What’s wrong?”
“I found out where the three dancers are,” he hisses.
“Where?” I demand, not in the mood for anything else to go wrong.
“They went to a random party,” he says, holding out a phone for me to see. “Bexley was just scrolling through her Facebook while waiting for her next set when she showed me this.” Taking the phone from him, I get a good look at the picture. My mood shifts from pissed at myself to four of my dancers. The image shows not only the girls who called out, but the one who didn’t answer when we called her. This shit makes my blood boil. But it’s what’s in the background that really catches my attention.
“Tomorrow, call a meeting with all the girls. It’s time for their round of testing,” I state, handing Julian back the phone. All my employees know the deal when they start working here. You don’t do stupid shit that our clients can find on the Internet. You definitely don’t do fucking drugs.
When we shut down our father’s brothels, we made sure our own was filled with willing and drug-free women. My dancers are treated the same as Tristan’s girls. They’re all tested at random—any time, day or night.
I’m fucking done here.
Félix’s phone rings, and it’s Madelaine. What the hell’s going on now? Can this night get any worse?
Shaking my head, I head out of the club, Félix on my heels. “We need to get to the house,” he says, going to the driver’s side of his car. “Something’s up. We’ll talk at home.”
Frowning, I nod. Climbing behind the wheel, I start my car, put it in drive, and follow my brother home, the entire time wondering what’s going on.
Pulling up behind Félix, I park and get out. Scanning the street, I narrow my eyes on a little car sitting down the road. I know that fucking car, and the fact it’s there infuriates me to no end. I’m about to storm over to the driver’s side door when the vehicle whips a U-turn in the middle of the street.
Tossing my hands in the air, I stalk toward the house, and inside, I find Félix holding a pissed-off Madelaine. “What’s going on?”
Désirée is standing directly behind them looking just as upset.
“What’s going on?” Madelaine snaps. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. Your wife seems to think she can come into our home and make demands.”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Is the world just out to get me today? First, the shit at the bookstore, then Julian giving me the news about my dancers calling out. This meant Cora went to work only to overhear my brother and I talking about Brittney. And that’s not even the icing on the cake, damnit.
“I didn’t even know you were married,” Madelaine snipes and looks to Félix. “Did you know?”
“Yes, I knew.” He nods in confirmation. “I didn’t tell you because he’s been trying to get rid of her.”
“Well, he’s doing a fine job of it.” Madelaine scoffs, directing her angry gaze back at me.
“Look, you wanna know? Fine, sit down, and I’ll tell you,” I say, expelling a harsh breath and crossing my arms.
Huffing, Madelaine takes a seat on the couch. Félix sits next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. Désirée gets comfortable in one of the overstuffed chairs next to the happy couple. Though, right now, she’s not too happy.
“Remember when I went to Vegas?” I ask, deciding to start at the beginning. Madelaine nods without speaking. “Well, I ended up getting smashed. I vaguely remember anything from the trip. The night everything happened is a complete blur. All I know is I woke up the next morning—married to Brittney. On the nightstand was a picture of the two of us with an Elvis impersonator holding up our marriage certificate.”
“Oh, my God,” Désirée gasps.
Ignoring her, I start pacing. “I told Brittney as soon as I realized what we’d done, it was all a mistake and wanted to get it annulled. She agreed and gave me her number, as well as the address to send her the papers to make it happen. I came home, and days later, she showed up acting like we didn’t agree to end the marriage. The papers had already been done up and ready for her. I gave them to her. Since then, she’s been fucking with me.” I spear my hands through my hair in frustration. “The latest? She’s claiming to be pregnant. I’ve told her it ain’t mine.”
“Are you sure?” Madelaine asks. Her hostility toward me is gone, but not her anger over the situation.
“Yeah, I’m sure of it.” I nod, taking a deep breath. I tilt my head back and stare at the ceiling. “With how much alcohol that had to be in my system, I still would’ve wrapped up my shit. Even drunk off my ass, I would’ve remembered a condom. Plus, there were used ones on the floor next to the bed in the hotel room.”
