Chapter 80
Chapter 80
Life was full of surprises. Zander thought.
There were good surprises, like finding out Elvie’s pussy tasted like honeydew and was tighter than his fist. There were also bad surprises, like finding Kristal standing inside his apartment, his spare keys dangling from her fingers in triumph, completely naked.
Again.
He dropped his suitcase and cracked his neck, walking straight to the bar. Luckily, they’d broken things off before he’d had the chance to become a full-blown alcoholic. Kristal certainly looked better behind the mist of hard liquor.
“Are you officially a nudist? I haven’t seen you with clothes on in a while,” Zander pondered, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt.
“You’re funny,” she hissed in what he assumed was meant to be a seductive way.
“And you’re naked. For a rich girl, you could surely use a new wardrobe. How did you get my keys?”
Part of him wanted to know, and the other dreaded killing the person who’d given them to her—not that there was a long list to choose from. But if it was someone from the management, they could kiss their job goodbye.
“It's my secret.”
Something dropped somewhere in the room, but fuck if he knew what it was. Maybe his heart. He heard the thud of it meeting the floor.
Anger bubbled beneath his skin, and he clutched the glass so hard he heard it cracking softly.
He stared down as small rivers of blood began paving their way inside his palm.
“What do you want, Kristal?”
“I want Patrick back, and I saw him talk to your bitchy wife in your mansion just a few moments ago before I came here.”
"I bet he wants you back too. So why are you here, really?”
“Zander—”
“By the way, don't call my wife a bitch! If you need a point of reference about who someone is, just look in the mirror. I’ll ask again before I call security to escort your ass out of here, butt naked. Why? Are. You. Here?”
“I want us to get back together,” she said after a beat of silence. “I mean, I know about Matheo’s plan. He used me; he used my parents. I want to work together.”
Zander didn’t even have it in him to laugh. Whatever she was smoking, that shit was made solely of rat poison, laundry detergent, and laxatives.
“No. Anything else?”
“I have a case,” she said. “Hear me out, please!”
Zander turned around to face her. The first drop of blood from his cut palm hit his loafer.
He ignored it. “A case? Do you even know how to spell the word?”
She took a step towards her. Funny, for all her nakedness, Kristal never forgot to keep her red-soled heels on. He raised a hand, letting her know there was an invisible line between them that was not to be crossed. She leaned her hip against the TV stand, unfazed by his bloody palm.
“I had a long chat with Patrick’s old man.” She licked her upper lip.
Interesting choice of words from a woman who’d let him give her mouth-to-mouth with his dick. Zander raised an eyebrow.
“He was away this weekend. We ended up having quite a lengthy conversation, in which he made some interesting points. The first one being that you are exploiting your employee by sleeping with her.”
“FYI, Elvie is my wife.”
“I know…Jesus! Hear me out first. And before you say it’s consensual, please try and think of how it would look in the eyes of every single competing network—that the person who pushed the #MeToo movement—that would be you, Zander—is not only sleeping with his reporter but making a contract. I know your marriage is a sham.” She gasped theatrically, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Paid all of her debt off. Took care of her brother’s debt as well, and yes, I went through your trash to find your bank statements—for a man who advocates to save the environment, you should really go paperless—and it was totally worth it.”
A satisfied grin graced her lips. “So what do we have here? A boss conniving with her wife and paying her way out of trouble. To make matters worse, she’s been promoted from the shitty beauty blog to the newsroom and then promoted as a reporter. You actually fired someone to make room for her. Oopsie daisy—and your inside source? He is my mom’s best friend’s son. He told me all about how you looked at her when you had your meeting.”
Should have known Steven had a few more fuckups in his disaster bag before he left my newsroom. He had a face begging to be punched, and I’d let him walk away with his nose intact. I had no one to blame but myself, really. I ran my red-tainted fingers over my jaw.
“I’m sure that’s how people are going to see it.” She clucked her tongue, stretching, and she was naked—too naked. I wanted to cover her up with something. A casket, maybe. Kristal would look damn good in it.
“I don’t care how people will see it. I employ Elvie because she is a gifted, hard-working reporter, and I fuck her because she is an excellent lay. Those two have nothing to do with each other.” He was downplaying his entire arrangement with Elvie, but he didn’t want Kristal to pin this breakup on his employee slash wife. It wasn’t fair to Elvie, and it was far from being the truth.
“Is she worth everything you’ve ever worked for?” She pinched her lower lip between her fingers nervously.
Yes. Yes, she is.
The thought struck Zander like lightning. Elvie was worthy, and he hated that her value kept going up the more the people around him were letting him down. She was hardworking, funny, quirky, kind, loving, and so pure. She kept up with his sharp tongue and gave it to him just as well. She brought donuts to work when she knew her colleagues were facing a long, challenging day and sneaked mini Jack Daniels bottles to Bella when he was particularly shitty. When Almera needed help with her workload, Elvie always volunteered but never made a fuss about it or made sure that he knew. She was so fucking graceful and unassuming, and he knew that even if he lost SBC tomorrow, got kicked out of his own office, stripped out of his inheritance, and sued for every penny he’d ever earned, it still wouldn’t change his value in her eyes. And that was invaluable. He loved her, he realised.
God, I love her! I love her so much!
“Leave,” Zabder snapped, picking up Kristal’s dress from his floor and deliberately using his bloody hand to stain her precious Prada number. “And this time, just so we’re on the same page, if you come back here, I will make sure to slap a restraining order on your ass. It won’t be pretty, seeing as you’ll have to move away from here, and you can hardly find your way in a fucking coffee shop. Am I clear?”
“I’ll take this story to all the press. Too many people already know.” She threw herself at me, her fists raining down on his chest. Zander pushed her away with his dripping palm.
“You go do that, Kristal. But put some clothes on first. You know, to make an impression.”
“Why are you fighting us? I'm trying to help you fight Matheo."
He smirked and said, “Us ceased to exist a long time ago. You’re going in circles. We haven’t been together in over a year.”
Her eyes darted down. “I thought it was going to change. I thought you’d calm down and realise we were compatible.”
“Are you really out of your mind? You don't want me; there is no us. If you want to fight this battle, fight it for Patrick. Do not use me! Talk to him.”
“I cant.”
“Why?”
“Because Matheo will kill him.”
“What?”
Hell.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You thought wrong about Matheo. Not only was he capable of taking everything from you. He wants everything. Everything, Zander. He is capable of killing too.”
Two minutes later, Zander slammed the door in her face (after she put some clothes on, thank fuck) and fished his phone out of his pocket to text Elvie.
Zander: Kristal knows.
Elvie: So does Patrick. He was here when I came home. We need a game plan. He told me to tell you that to know who killed your parents, ask Matheo.
Zander: Why?
Elvie: I have no idea. What's the plan?
Zander: Patrick is our plan. We’re coming out.
Elvie: Did you just make a Geraldo joke?
Zander: Is that Gerald’s real name?
Elvie: Yes.
Zander: At any rate, Kristal is threatening to blackmail me by claiming I’m harassing you. Am I fucking you against your will, wife?
Elvie: Seriously?
Zander: I’m asking
Elvie: No. But I don’t want the stigma of being “that girl” at work.
Zander: What stigma is that? We’re married. We’re fucking each other casually and consensually. No one is getting promoted anytime soon.
Elvie: Right.
Zander wanted to diminish the weight she had in his world, knowing it could very well crush him if he wasn’t careful.
He hated how the thought of coming clean and telling everyone they were together secretly appealed to him, and that they weren't really getting divorced, even though it was about to kill his reputation and make Elvie’s life twenty times harder at work.
Most of all, Zander hated the idea that he was going to hurt her.
Not because she deserved it, but because he didn’t know how not to.