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I pull the half-empty wine bottle away when she reaches for it again. Taking away all the terrible things she has done, I can’t help but feel bad for her. She wants to feel loved after spending her whole life chasing it. She wants a place to belong, and I resonate with that. Being part of this life makes me miss the one I left behind. Since signing the contract, I feel like I have tried to meet everyone’s expectations and failed at it. I wander the world with no safe space, no place to call home.
“You have to find a way to make things work in your marriage. You have a baby coming.”
Emery stares out the window as tears streak her cheeks. “I have no fight left in me,” she declares.
She doesn’t look or speak to me after that.
12
Whenthere’saloudknock at the door, I let Huxley in. He doesn’t look happy to see me despite me doing him a favour tonight, one that might get me murdered if Xavier finds out.
“We’re going to be late. Let’s go.”
I grab my purse and follow him to his car.
A few minutes into the drive, Huxley gives me the run down for the hundredth time. “Just act normal. We’re on a date. I need a few minutes with his phone. Find a way to start talking to the mistress. He won’t engage with you straight away.”
I nod. “Yes, I know. I got this.”
“This is my only chance, sweetheart.”
I fight my smile at the returning nickname. His mask lapses at the unconscious slip. He doesn’t let me call him out on it as he continues.
“I won’t be able to get close to him again because he’ll recognise me. Here,” he reaches into his pocket and tosses something at me.
I catch the diamond ring and wedding band before they can fall. “What’s this?”
He flashes his left hand in my direction. With a dry tone, he says, “Congratulations. We’re married.”
My laugh is soft as I slide the rings on. “Perfect fit. I’d ask how you know, but…”
“Don’t let me down, Mrs. Savannah Ray.”
I hate how good that sounds.
“Can I get you a drink to start with?”
“Two glasses of water,” he answers for us.
The waiter walks away, leaving me and Huxley to stare at one another. The restaurant is small but fancy. All the tables are cloaked with white fabric, and the waiters wear identical tuxedos. The staff move with a fluidity I haven’t seen before. The two tall candles set the mood for a romantic night. Around us, the sound of soft mumbles and clinking wine glasses fills the silence that sits between us.
“Where is your target?” I whisper.
“Not here yet.”
I like how his eyes scan me, taking in every inch of my skin. This black dress is one of my favourites. The fabric clings to me like a second skin – not obnoxiously revealing but letting admirers know there is something to desire underneath. Pregnancy has made my stomach bloat, but with the way Huxley is staring at me, I don’t feel any less sexy. When his hazel eyes darken across the table, I want to climb into his lap and let him run his hands all over me.
I smile at him. “Who do you get your eyes from?”
He looks confused at the random question but smiles. “My father. How about you?”
“My mum. I assume so, seeing as I don’t know my father.” I tilt my head and smile at him.
“Have you ever wanted to know who he is?”
I contemplate my answer. I know what he has done, and I hate him for it. He’s a rapist; nothing will change that, even if he has changed or regrets his actions. But everyone deserves to know who they are, and DNA plays a big part.
“Sometimes. People see my almond-shaped eyes, long black hair and tan skin and are curious about my heritage. I don’t have an answer for it. I don’t know what health risks I have. So maybe I’d like to meet him to get those answers.” I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t think I’d ever want a relationship with him, even if he is sorry.”
