Chapter 39

Alex

FOUR MONTHS AGO

With each passing minute, Alex was positive that Erica wouldn't turn up. Sat in their favourite restaurant and tucked away in their favourite booth, he watched the door like a hawk.

Each time the bell above the door tinkled, his heart would leap with anticipation, only for some nobody to walk through and send it plummeting into his stomach like a rock. The more time passed, the more anxious he became. But leaving his seat meant admitting defeat, and that was unacceptable.

Sophie didn't know he was there, of course. Even mentioning Erica's name sent her spiralling into a jealous rage. As far as Sophie was concerned, Erica was holding them back by refusing to divorce him. She didn't need to know that the divorce papers were still in his desk drawer and he had absolutely no intention of signing them.

Erica would come to her senses soon enough.

They had been through too much together to let an irrelevant woman come between them. He truly believed that if she gave him a chance to explain himself, she'd understand that this was just a blip in their marriage.

This time when the bell tinkled, his heart stayed lodged in his throat. Erica was more beautiful than he'd ever seen her, a fact that made his stomach bubble uncomfortably. She wasn't just doing okay without him; she was doing better.

She walked towards him purposefully, no ounce of friendliness on her pretty face as she sank gracefully into the booth chair.

"Do you have the papers? "

The question hung between them, barely heard by Alex as his eyes drank in her beauty. He had missed looking at her, being next to her. Even when hatred radiated from her every pore, sitting in this booth with her was the happiest he'd been since she walked out on him.

"No. They're in my desk," he said, clearing his throat and straightening up. "That's not why I brought you here today."

"That's the only reason I'm here."

"Eri—"

"Alex, I'm not interested in anything you have to say. I don't want to hear any excuses. All I want from you is to sign the divorce papers so I can leave you in the past where you belong."

"Honey, please," he said, reaching his hand across the table. She snatched hers away as though he carried some fatally contagious disease, her lip curling in disgust.

"Don't you fucking touch me," she warned. Alex recoiled from the venom in her tone. He had never heard her speak like that before.

Not once.

She wasn't just angry; she fucking hated him.

The woman in front of him wasn't his loving wife of eight years, but a stranger who wanted nothing to do with him. He could feel himself deflating with the realisation, a lump forming in his throat.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, pulling his hand back. "Message received."

"If you don't have the papers, there's no point in me being here," she said, standing to leave.

"Wait," he said, unable to stop himself from speaking. To his surprise, she stopped, looking at him expectantly. "Can I please just have ten minutes of your time? Please." Erica sighed, pushing her hand through her hair. He chewed his lip and tried again. "Erica? I haven't seen you since you came by to get your things. And even then, you were with him."

"He has a name, Alex."

Surprising him, Erica took her seat once again, leaning towards him. His heart leapt, imagining kissing her like he would have in any other circumstances. "His name is Marcus, and he is more of a man than you'll ever be."

Alex scoffed, anger replacing desire. "How do you figure?"

"For one, he's not a cheating prick," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Plus, he's got more integrity than you.

"Integrity? He's swooped in and picked up the pieces of our marriage! He—"

"A marriage that you fucking destroyed." The venom in her tone gave him pause. "Marcus did nothing to you . I did nothing to you. And yet you took it upon yourself to destroy us both."

"It doesn't give him the right to get with you—"

"I'm going to stop you right there, Alex." This time, the venom in her tone was long gone. Now she spoke to him in an icy whisper. One void of any emotion. It was like a dagger to his chest. "What Marcus and I do is none of your business. If I want to be with him, I will. If he wants to fuck me over every inch of his flat, he will."

Alex tensed at the image, baring his teeth and opening his mouth to speak.

"If we want to flaunt our relationship," she said, a little louder this time. "You better believe we're going to flaunt it. From the moment you stuck your dick in your receptionist, you lost all right to have any sort of opinion about what I do and who I do it with.

"I don't care what you have to say, Alex. I don't care if you want me back, or if you want to beat Marcus to a pulp, or if Sophie isn't what you wanted after all. It's none of my business, and frankly, if you've realised what a monumental mistake you've made already, I pity your relationship going forward.

"I am happy without you. Marcus is happy without Sophie. And the only thing I want from you, or indeed will ever want from you, is a signature on a sheet of paper that means I can erase you from my life. As far as I'm concerned, you do not exist.

"Sign the fucking papers, Alex. It's the very least of what you owe me. "

Standing for the last time, Erica turned and walked out of the restaurant, a few heads following her. As the bell above the door tinkled, those same heads turned back to Alex before excited whispers broke out amongst the other diners.

How loud had Erica been talking?

Still staring at the door in which she left, Alex felt his cheeks flame as anger seethed inside him. He'd barely heard anything she said beyond Marcus fucking her, and it was an image he couldn't shake from his mind.

One way or another, he was going to make Marcus pay.

If he couldn't have Erica, he was going to make damn sure that Marcus couldn't, either.

PRESENT DAY

Alex sat at his desk, staring down at the divorce papers, still sporting only one signature. His fingers traced Erica's untidy scrawl, realising with a pang that she had signed with her maiden name.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair as he sat back in his chair.

It seemed time was running out.

Hell, even if Marcus wasn't blackmailing him, he doubted Erica would have held her patience for much longer. With each passing day, he half expected a court order at his door.

And then he'd have to explain to Sophie that it wasn't Erica stalling on the divorce after all. God, as if he could bother dealing with that.

No. It was all him. Erica had served and signed within a week of leaving him. Sophie's papers from Marcus had followed a day or two after. They must have been so excited to start their new life together. Grimacing at the thought, he reached for a cigarette. He wasn't usually one to smoke in the office, but desperate times. Taking a long draw, he relished in the smoke burning the back of his throat, still not quite used to smoking again. He closed his eyes and let himself relax for a moment, as though he didn't have to accept defeat at the hands of a lesser man.

He couldn't believe he'd fallen for such an obvious trap.

Of course Marcus had been trying to set him up - why else would he have remained so calm when Alex had done everything to provoke a reaction? And he'd played right into the prick's hand. Rookie mistake. But the time for revenge had been and gone. He'd taken far too long to make any kind of move, and now karma was breathing down his neck.

The London group was far too important to his company to take any risks, and Marcus' little video was definitely enough to send them running. If the London group jumped ship, the rest would follow, he was sure. Reputation was everything in his game, and at the moment, his was at an all-time low.

With a sigh, he grabbed a pen, smoothing the papers on his desk. He lingered over his signature, chewing his lip. Fuck, he really did not want to sign this. He didn't want to agree to end his marriage.

Before he could stop himself, a sob escaped his lips, and to his utter surprise, tears sprung to his eyes. The lump in his throat made it hard to swallow. He felt hot around the collar.

Not for the first time, the enormity of his situation hit him like a tonne of bricks, stealing the air from his lungs and threatening to destroy him. And the worst part of it all was he had no one to blame but himself.

Sure, Sophie came on to him.

But he had all the power. He could have fired her. Could have turned her down. All he had to do was tell her fucking no . Instead, he allowed himself to be weak, to succumb to temptation and risk it all.

Well, the risk did not pay off and he had lost everything of any consequence.

Another sob rang out in the silence of his office and for the first time since he was a young lad, Alex openly wept, his tears falling fast and heavy. The more he tried to control himself, the harder he cried, until he was gripping the pen with such force that it bit into the palm of his hand .

"Fucking idiot," he muttered, snuffling. "I'm a fucking idiot."

It wasn't worth it. None of it was worth it.

Straightening up, he forced himself to focus on the papers in front of him. Reluctantly, he clicked his pen, scrawling his signature into the required box. His heart clenched uncomfortably, his eyes stinging with the effort of controlling his tears.

That was that.

God, this was easier when he had someone else to blame. Sophie for tempting him, Erica for allowing one mistake to destroy them. Fucking Marcus for stealing his wife.

Anger made him tense once more, his teeth clenching as he stared at his signature. This last six months would not have been as difficult had it not been for Marcus, he was sure of it.

He was the one who first told Erica, after all. And then he became her shoulder to cry on, her confidant. Why had he opened his home to her so willingly, if not to fuck her? And, oh, he'd got what he wanted, hadn't he?

Alex was sure he didn't even care about Erica. Marcus was just using her to get back at him. Sophie too, no doubt. Erica deserved more than that - to be used as a pawn in whatever game of revenge Marcus was playing.

Alex might have cheated on her, but at least he loved her. Whatever Marcus was up to was just cruel. His lip curling, Alex scrunched the divorce papers until they were a crumpled ball in his hand.

Fuck that guy!

And fuck Erica for falling for his bullshit.

Fuck the pair of them for thinking they could force his hand!

He was Alexander Carr, and fucking no one could make him do anything.

Shoving the papers to one side, he pressed a button on his keyboard, making his computer spring to life. Not giving himself time to think, he punched Marcus' name into a search engine, scrolling until he found what he was looking for .

The website for Marcus' little ghost show was pitiful at best. Honestly, it was surprising he got any traffic at all, but according to their latest blog post, he was doing something right. Boasting about a new tour bus and a few added ‘delights', it pained Alex to see his nemesis succeeding.

But Alex had ways of ending that success.

Grabbing his phone, he dialled from memory. Ringing once, Alex smirked as a gruff voice spoke into his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Grant. Always a pleasure," he said, cradling the receiver between his ear and shoulder. "I've got a job for you if you're up for it."

"Depends, dunnit?"

"I'll give you five grand, and you can keep whatever you want."

"I'm listening," Grant grunted. "What's the job?"

"Well, see, there's this tour bus," Alex replied, sensing a win. "And it will earn you a lot of money once you steal it."

His earlier remorse long forgotten, Alex placed the crumbled papers back in his drawer, hiding them under a bunch of documents. If Erica wanted a divorce, she would have to try harder than a little blackmail.

Marcus was playing with fire, and it was time to learn what happens when the flames get too close.