Page 138 of Checkmate
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.
Chapter 40
Marcus
