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“I don’t have all the details yet, but the parents–the Douglas and Hunter families–are friends through the country club. Known each other for years. In their circles, it’s not news that Cheney Douglas and Evelyn Hunter have been an item for years.”
I nodded. “Eve mentioned that. This sounds like an arranged marriage to me. The question is… why? Especially after years. Five, six, seven years. That’s fucking ridiculous. Something’s going on.”
I hated thinking that Eve had been dealing with her parents and Douglas pestering her all alone, especially the way Douglas showed up at the coffee shop the day before with the sole intention of harassing her. No, there was no intention. They were fucking with her and her livelihood. Not fair and a dick move. She was too close to it, to her parents even though they got her into this, to understand the depth of their reasoning. It wasn’t a religious thing. Or a cultural thing. It was something else and it couldn’t be good.
“I mean, I could see her father telling her he wasn’t giving her more money from her trust, but why make Douglas executor?” I wondered. Everything he shared validated what Eve told me on the plane last night. I’d been admittedly, and amazingly, distracted.
If those fuckers were up to something, which I was sure they were, I wanted to know because they were fucking with my wife.
Her money challenges didn’t matter any longer. She had all the money she wanted. Not because she now supposedly had access to her trust fund, but because she was now Eve James. There was no prenup, so she was now a billionaire. A stupid move perhaps on my part, but I didn’t give a shit.
I knew for a fact that Dex hadn’t had a prenup with Lindy. Sure, they’d been drunk and got hitched at a drive-thru chapel in Las Vegas, but he’d planned to marry her since the second he laid eyes on her. Not only did he have family money, but he made millions as a pro hockey player. He didn’t give a shit either.
Bradley gave a shrug. “I’ve got investigators looking into financials. Digital paper trails. Everything.”
“Good. Thanks.”
He shut the folder and looked me in the eye. “Want to update me on why your agenda for today includes dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Hyport… and your wife?”
47
EVE
Mr. Hyport openedthe front door of his home himself considering the place was fancy enough for a butler. Or two. From the street, it was three stories, stucco, consistent with turn of the century San Francisco architecture. This street, specifically their side, rested on a cliff above the bay.
“Welcome!” he said, a broad smile on his face. The man was in his sixties, dressed in dark corduroys and a checked button-up shirt. Sharp eyes met mine, but they held warmth.
With Silas at my side and his hand on the small of my back, he ushered us inside.
“Remember, I’m getting you naked after this,” he whispered in my ear as Mr. Hyport took our coats.
I shivered and pasted a smile on my face. I couldn’t believe he said that to me.
Now.
Except maybe not.
We met in the hotel lobby as planned. When he saw me, he stopped in his tracks and looked me over, from my black heels to the top of my as-best-as-I-could styled hair.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he’d said, cupping my cheek and kissing me. Lavishly, right there in the middle of the lobby.
“Silas,” I’d whispered, a little embarrassed by his blatant show of affection.
He pulled back, but only slightly. “What? Now you don’t want people to see us?”
I blushed as he continued. “See that couch over there?” He pointed to one with a potted palm beside it. “I want to bend you over it and fuck you, make everyone eyeing my beautiful wife know that she’s all mine. That I’m the one who will satisfy her. Make her scream.”
Yeah, he’d said that, then led me to a waiting car. Panties wet. Nipples hard. Horny.
“My wife, Eve,” Silas said, introducing me to Mr. Hyport.
“Sir, nice to meet you,” I said when he took my hand next.
“Robert. Ah, here’s Kathleen.”
He turned at his wife’s approach.
I had gone shopping for a dinner outfit because I’d had no choice. I’d had to wash my panties in the sink and use the hairdryer on them to be able to leave the room. The concierge directed me to an amazing shopping area, and I’d found a few casual items to hold me over, but also the dress and heels I wore now.
