Shelley, tell me this. Why ain’t your fucking husband coughing up the goods, eh? Why ain’t your darling Nicolas making arrangements? Past it now, is he? Washed up and dried out, is he?’
Shelley lowered her gaze in shame.
‘Well?’ he screamed.
‘He’s left me,’ she whispered contritely.
Colin stared in disbelief. His daughter – this good-looking woman – had married Nicolas Marwood, a much older man. In fact, he was nearly the same age as himself. At forty-three, Shelley could easily pass for thirty-three. Her auburn hair, cut in a pixie style, and her round hazel eyes were fashionably attractive, and she’d not let her figure go to waste either.
‘He’s left you? Why?’ he demanded.
She looked up, hoping to see some compassion on his face, but he just stared ominously at her with those cold, dark eyes.
‘He was sniffing around a younger woman, took me credit card, and then he threw me out with just enough money to rent a gaff.’
‘You’re his wife. You’re entitled to fucking half! Jesus, girl, you ain’t that thick, surely to God, are ya?’
‘No, Dad, I ain’t that thick. But our money wasn’t in any fucking bank accounts, was it? The house was in his brother’s name, the cars were in his name, and the cash was hidden in places that only he knew about, so that’s about the fucking strength of it.’
‘I fucking knew this would happen. You can’t even do up your shoelaces by yourself. For fuck’s sake, that bastard took you away from me, and now he’s left you hung out to dry and he’s still having the last laugh.’
She wanted to defend Nicolas, but then she thought if she agreed with her father, he would be more inclined to help her.
‘Yes, Dad, I reckon he is, but, as I said, I can’t do fuck all about it.’
‘Well, I can. Where’s his brother live? I’ll send him a visitor. I want that house in your name and—’
‘Dad, I don’t care about the money or the status. I just need you to help my son. And you’re the only one who can sort this situation out. Please!’
‘He got himself in this fucking mess. He’s a stinking druggie.’
‘No, I swear, he’s not anymore,’ she pleaded.
‘Well, he’s a bloody idiot, chucking shit down his neck. It only ends up one way – huge debts or being dead.’
‘I know, I know, but please help me. You have contacts, so you can help him.’ She watched his face, knowing the cogs were turning. She really wanted to be brave and suggest that it was probably his drugs that her son had been hooked on. She wasn’t blind and knew that her father had his hand in the drug underworld. But she kept what she knew about her father’s dealings to herself.
‘Ya know what? I never had your husband put in a concrete boulder and stuck at the bottom of the river because you were his wife. End of. But now, I have no reason to hold back. You give me everything you have on that man, and I’ll help your son.’
‘Your grandson, Dad. He’s your bleedin’ flesh and blood too.’
‘Don’t push it, Shelley. Now go, and then come back when you have enough information for me to annihilate that son of a bitch.’
As Shelley got up from her chair, she faltered, unsure whether to attempt a hug; yet, again, he turned his back on her and looked out of the window once more.
Closing the door behind her, Shelley allowed a satisfied grin to creep across her face. She thought the meeting could’ve gone a lot worse. However, she’d put on her best acting skills and exaggerated the truth just enough to suck him. It had clearly worked.
* * *
Zara pushed back the white cotton sheet and was about to swing her legs around to clamber from the bed, when a heavy hand stopped her.
‘No way is my future wife gonna slip outta the sheets without a kiss. We’ll start as we mean to go on.’
Zara allowed a smile to lift her cheeks. It felt surreal, waking up in Mike’s bed for the first time ever. The years of stubbornly playing with each other’s emotions had now come to this. She was the boss, and yet, in their relationship, he would call the shots. She rolled into his open arms and snuggled her nose into his neck. ‘You feel so good, Mikey.’
‘And don’t you forget it, my wife-to-be.’
‘Er … I don’t see a ring on this finger yet.’ She laughed, holding up her right hand.
For a moment, Mike’s heart felt heavy. She should have been holding up her left hand, but she couldn’t, as there wasn’t one.
‘Well, today, we are gonna do something about that. You and I, my angel, are gonna pick the biggest, fattest diamond you fancy and show the world ya mine.’
‘A bit controlling, wouldn’t you say?’
Mike shuffled so that he was face-to-face with Zara. He blinked as he took in her natural beauty. Her skin glowed with the freshness of the morning.
‘There is no man or woman alive that could control you, and you bloody well know it.’
She gently kissed his lips and then pulled away. ‘No, Mikey, there isn’t because outside of me and you, there’s my business, and that’s when I’m the boss. But inside this house and outside of work, I might just let you take control.’ She winked. ‘Er, well, every so often perhaps.’
‘What, like this?’ he replied, as he rolled on top of her and grabbed at her underwear, ripping her knickers away from her. She looked at the passion in his eyes and felt her heart race. She loved the way he was so animalistic in the bedroom, and yet she could be just the same. She snatched the back of his head and pulled him close, biting his bottom lip.
Disturbed by the phone ringing, Zara tried to pull away.
‘Leave it, babe.’
‘No, not today. We still have business to attend to.’
Mike rolled off and stared up at the ceiling. She was right. Torvic and his granddaughter, Tiffany, were still tied up in the secret room at the back of the hangar.
‘Hello, what’s up?’ asked Zara, as soon as she answered the call.
‘Fuck me, Zara, the hangar. Torvic and Tiffany have gone!’ said Neil, her business partner.
Mike could tell from the shock on Zara’s face that something was awry. He jumped up from the bed. ‘What the hell’s going on?’
Instantly, Zara sat upright. She put the phone on loudspeaker so that Mike could hear. ‘You what? How can that be? The fucking room was locked. No one apart from us knows how to open it, and I have the … Oh shit, wait. Did I bring the remote with me? Hold on!’ She turned to Mike. ‘Where’s my jacket?’
He bent down and picked up the padded jacket that had been thrown on the floor before they’d ripped each other’s clothes off in the early hours.
She snatched it from him and searched the pockets. To her horror, they were empty. ‘Oh no! Damn it, I must’ve fucking left the remote there!’
Mike shook his head and expelled air heavily from his mouth. ‘Fuck me!’
For a moment, Zara looked at Mike and considered whether he viewed her as an idiot, because, right now, she saw herself as exactly that. After all they’d achieved last night, she’d blown it completely by leaving behind the bloody remote device that opened up the back room.
Seriously agitated, Mike was running his hands through his hair and pacing the floor. ‘It’s all my fucking fault!’
Zara was puzzled and gave an exaggerated frown. ‘How do you work that one out?’