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“Right away, sir.”
I typed “Tristan Chamberlain” into my browser and waited for the results to load.
I skimmed the information pages, discovering that his career had ended long before Tatiana’s, and he was now making a living as an influencer. He had amassed millions of followers and was hawking everything from tooth whitening strips to flat tummy tea.
He seemed harmless, but I wasn’t quite ready to write him off yet.
Clicking on his Twitter profile, I read his latest tweet.
@TristanChamLifeJust landed in Vegas via first-class flight. Got a special night coming. One last chance to win back the one who got away…
What the fuck?
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-THREE DAYS AFTER SAYING “I DO”
TRAVIS
Text from Madeline:
Please tell me that you didn’t use your condo’s master lock system to prevent your wife from going out last night.
Me:
Okay. I *won’t* tell you that.
TWENTY-NINE
TWENTY-FIVE DAYS AFTER SAYING “I DO”
TATIANA
Crystals City Center: Dolce & Gabbana
Las Vegas, Nevada
“You really don’t need to watch my every move, Ryan.”
“Those are Mr. Carter’s orders verbatim.” He gave me a sympathetic smile. “It’s for your protection.”
“Protection fromwhat?”
“He wants to make sure you’re safe, to guard you from anything that could possibly happen to you in public.”
“Like the paparazzi somehow snapping pictures loud enough for me to die?”
He held back a laugh. “I’m just doing my job, Ma’am.”
“Can you do it from over there?” I pointed to the entrance. “Surely Mr. Carter wouldn’t want you following me into the fitting room.”
He looked as if he wasn’t sure about that idea, but he eventually walked away.
Thanks to Travis, the entire store was cleared out, with the exception of the attendants and the manager.
They’d waited on me hand and foot, all while serving champagne with strawberries, and showing off every item in stock.
I appreciated their service beyond measure, but the means behind it was pure control.
