Page 137 of Checkmate
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.
