Page 158 of The Reluctant Hero

“It is a sandpit deathtrap out there,” I force a laugh that comes out toneless and fake. “Tell me you’re putting in a pond to break it all up. A shack to cover up the door to your revolting, yuppy hideaway? Maybe a few orange cones around the dead body? It’s a tripping hazard.”

This time, it’s pure panic.

He doesn’t know. He had no idea I was there until just now.

And then he turns smug again.

“Anything you’re talking about is easy to erase. You don’t have any photos to prove a connection to me.”

“Who took them?” I have a suspicion, but I hope I’m wrong.

“They’re in Matthias’ hands as we speak,” he gloats with a grin. “He’ll be returning them soon enough.”

“Oh no. I’m so shocked.” I didn’t realize any more emotion could drain out of my voice. I sound like a robot. Inside, I feel an emotional dagger slide through my ribs and twist. Something isn’t right about this, but I’m too focused on Blake to think about it right now.

“Do you have Gabriel on speed dial? Do you gossip like little girls at night? Paint each other's nails like the pussies you are?”

The hairs on the back of my neck rise in warning, and the pressure becomes heavy enough that my breathing goes shallow. My hands tighten down on the baton. It’s almost time.

For a second, I think I have him, and then he falls into his smug self-assurance again. That doom pressure doesn’t ease, though. This is an act. He’s getting ready.

“I have a meeting to get ready for. Get out.”

I watch him straighten his tie, regaining his ego from whatever disgusting pit it comes out of.

“You might want to buzz your secretary and tell her to reschedule,” I suggest mildly.

“Really,” he gives me a mocking, disappointed look. “And why is that? Do you think I’m going to listen to more pathetic threats?”

“Because you’re going to miss it. I can guarantee it.”

He laughs in a low tone that makes my stomach roll with the urge to puke. Without the filter I wore throughout our marriage, I can hear the slime that coats it.

“I don’t think so. But if you insist, why don’t you call Matthias yourself? Ask him to meet me here instead of at the restaurant. I’m sure he’d love to speak with you.”

I don’t reply, and he falls into light chuckles. His eyes twinkle with malicious joy.

“How bad did it hurt that your meal ticket turned out to be a trap? Which one told you the truth?” He settles into light chuckles, his eyes twinkling with malicious joy. “Ace? I know you’ve been fucking him.”

That doesn’t line up.

“I haven’t, actually,” I tilt my head to study him curiously. “Somebody has been lying to you.”

“I have you dead to rights on adultery,” he boasts.

I’m not correcting him again. If he’s convinced that Ace and I had sex, it’s because Ace told him. I can’t think of a single reason why he would, though.

“How sad,” I tell him blandly instead.

“I’m going to enjoy watching you get torn apart in court,” he informs me with relish. “Or you could just walk your ass home, and we can pretend all of this was a bad dream. I was good to you. You won’t have any more problems.”

“Under what rules?” I can’t inject any emotion into the words. I’m stuck in some limbo of deadened feeling.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut. That’s it. I’ll increase the amount of money you can spend, and you’ll be back to normal.”

“Just like that.”

“Just like that, sweetheart,” his voice falls into a soothing whisper.

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