Chapter 97 97

Chapter 97 97
GRAYSON
"You're such a goner!" Damian didn't hold back, laughed his ass off like the idiot he was at my expense.
"It's not even funny. I was having the best time of my life and boom, Scarlett had to ruin in and for what? Icecream for Johnny." I scoffed. Scarlett needed to leave that house and fast, she'd overstepped. She never listens, assumes everyone should bow at her feet like the queen she claimed to be, even when she had absolutely nothing to offer.
"Well, you have to admit, it's a little funny." His shoulders shook with laughter, at my expense.
"Fuck off." I eased into the plush couches in his living room. Soccer highlights played in the background but I couldn't focus on that. With both legs over the arm of the couch and spread comfortably on its soft offering, I twirled the glass of white wine. The liquid swirled from side to side in an almost turbulent fashion, exactly how my life had become, but not for long.
My private investigator had texted me saying he had something for me, something substantial, I would like to believe that he would not waste my time with something useless. So, fingers crossed.
"Don't you think it would just be safer to se-" Damian is cut off by the shrill, almost annoying default ringtone of my phone. Speak of the devil.
"Yes?" I speak to the phone, hoping he would cut to the chase and I could stop imagining atleast three scenarios every minute, all of which ended with Scarlett either thrown out like a thief or in court and in tears because she was guilty as fuck.
"The reception would like a word, sir." I handed the phone to Damian, because it was his penthouse, he was the one who chose to live in a hotel people rented for a view days and moved on. Some of the perks of owning a chain of hotels I guess.
They spoke for less than a minute, Damian nodding and the lady getting breathier and sounding more flustered by the second. After a torturous minute of watching Damian flirt with the staff, the call ended and holding my phone afterwards felt like holding a condom he just used, dirty and disgusting.
"He should be up in no time." He smirked knowingly, like the shameless piece of shit he was.
A knock came in just then. "That must be him." Damian crossed the lounging area like a child, jumping over couches and everything.
"Good morning Mr Cross."
I could see Damian's eye roll without even bothering to look behind me. He always hated it when people wouldn't quit reminding him of his last name. Funny, seeing as he enjoyed the perks said last name came with.
"Come on in." He was cheerful. He always was the happier of the both of us, but he sounded, almost excited. Anyone who saw him would think he was the one who might just have been about to be free from his ex wife's clutches and not me.
Footsteps filled the silence as he lead the private investigator into the lounging area. "Mr Archer." He greeted with his head bowed like he was some servant. My parents loved that, not me, but I was tired of correcting him on it, so it was better to leave it at that.
"You said you have good news for me?" If o didn't he would, it was one of the reasons I still kept him around, he was great but I loved his directness better, always straight to the point.
"Yes sir, Miss Scarlett lied about the whole thing."
"Say what now?!" The shock hadn't even made its way to my brain yet my mouth could reason enough to speak.
"You're kidding!" Damian cut through from the bar, his hand paused midway to him filling a glass with more wine.
"I wish I was sir." He dipped his hand into a black briefcase that looked like it could hold all the secrets of the world and still have room left for more. How he carried that thing around was beyond me, effortlessly too like it weighed absolutely nothing.
A brown folder, then a transparent one, both were handed to me. He watched with almost a gleam in his eyes as I peeled the first one opened, the transparent one. It held two documents. One of our marriage certificate and the other...
"A divorce agreement." My eyes bulged out of their sockets, my brain struggling to wrap my head around the new piece of information. Damian joined us in the lounging area, too curious to resist giving us space.
Like the curious tom he was, he is peeked over my shoulder at the single piece of paper that meant Scarlett would be so fucked by the court, she would never recover enough to show her face on her street, let alone a modeling agency.
"We've been divorced the entire time." My cheeks burned from how wide I was smiling. This had to be the best news I had received all week! We weren't married. No wonder she had been so antsy, impatient, but most of all, territorial. She knew she had no claim to me, atleast not with the backing of the law anymore. The best part was if this got out, if her plans to extort money from me under the guise of a marriage after a divorce, if she would go as far as threatening me with our child for the money, there was no way the court would give her custody of Johnny! Not in this life or the next! It was perfect!
"Well shit. You might want to see this before you celebrate too fast." Damian muttered, his eyes ran over the paper in his grasp, the marriage certificate. Was it ours? Even if it was, it couldn't possibly be in the way. Then what?
Too impatient to stress my brain more I have the past weeks, I snatch it from his grip.
The bastard burst out in laughter the moment I read through the names, "Scarlett Price and...no fucking way! They're married?!" Oh she was so fucked now.
"You should have seen your face!" Damian was inches from actually rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach as he struggled for air, but wouldn't stop laughing. "You looked like someone told you you had three days to live and you'd be paralyzed the entire three days till you die." He was a mess, cackling like he was the funniest person in the room. Well, hell fucking no, but I let him have his laugh.
Mine spilled from my lips like an unchecked hyena. Nothing could actually beat this. I had been hopeful that maybe there was a way around it, maybe we could get the annulment on the grounds of misinformation or lack of, but this, this was gold! I knew that name anywhere, I fucking destroyed the owner of that name. It all made sense now. Did he get married to her for some twisted form of revenge? Was that it? An arrangement like what I had initially with Adeline? Oh, that would be something. Wait...
A chill ran down my spine like an icy finger leaving a trail. If I wasn't seeing things and the date on it was correct, that meant, the idiot was still married to Scarlett when he tried to get with Adeline! Did she know? Could she have? Scarlett never really cared unless the money stopped flowing. Unless... did she love him? Was that the real reason she left or did she just think he was richer?
I tried to piece back how he looked and almost smacked myself for even considering the latter. Of course he didn't look richer, anyone with a good head on their shoulders could tell he was a poser, he wasn't even a B-list actor, more like an extra who was always on the hunt for the next big gig. But then again, Scarlett didn't do love. I was convinced she was in love with me, up until she decided it was time to leave. She used my connections, my name, to get the best modeling job, make a name, and the moment she got the semblance of what fame looked like, she revealed her true feelings and hadn't even given me the time to process. Well, good riddance because damn!
There was no way her and her husband dearest were going to escape what I had for them. She had some nerve. Coming into my home, almost ruining things for Scarlett and I, all for a few millions, while she was still married to the fucker I made swear I would never set my eyes on him again. Yeah, they asked for every bit of what I was going to serve to them on a gold dish.
With these, I couldn't help but wonder what then was in the second envelope, the brown one.
"What's this then?" I slide my fingers underneath the lip of the folder, loosening the gum as I quizzed.
"Mrs Price has been busy of late. If she wasn't I probably wouldn't have been able to track that." He poked a finger towards the transparent folder.
"Okay. Scarlett is sneaky, that's not new." I shrugged, as I took out the first thing my hand touched. A picture. Scarlett in a car, one of mine, this was recent. That wasn't the most surprising thing though, it was the fact that she wasn't alone.
The face looked oddly familiar, but for the life of me, I couldn't place exavtly where I had seen it. They both had frowns on their faces, either they'd received bad news or they were in a heated argument. My guess would be the latter considering Scarlett looked like she was about to bite his head off.
"That's Jaspar Jameson, sir." Okay, didn't ring a bell at all. Maybe I was trying to piece a puzzle when the piece was non existent.
"Who's that? Picture after picture, they were together, deep in conversation. A few had her and the extra, but a good majority were of her and this Jaspar fellow in different locations. Was she cheating on her new husband? Again?! Was it a curse?
"That the black sheep of the Price family sir, Mrs Scarlett's step brother, the one that had been disowned by the Prices over seven years ago." Just like that, it all clicked. The unexplained beauty appointments with her girls that never came to the house. I always thought it was odd because the Scarlett I knew and had been married to at the time always had them around, especially after a 'girls day', she would bring them over to the house and I would hide away in my study till they left.
A pit had began to form in my stomach, something didn't feel right, "Do you have time stamps for these?" I needed to be certain. Scarlett hated Jaspar, she had said it time and again how she wished her father hadn't been stupid enough to make a mistake as having a child with his mistress. She never held back when she rambled on about how she was glad they never had to be alone in the same room, only for family dinner, but the statement that kept ringing in my head had the warning bells blaring full time.
"Would you believe Jaspar has a criminal record, but dad wiped still covers his ass and wipes it clean? I wish he would just stop because he's only making things even worse. I mean, he isn't involved with gangs and all that shit yet, but I'm sure he would be soon." She shrugged off her jacket gently like she wasn't fuming. She'd just gotten back from family dinner and she been on a rant since she crossed the door.
"Well, that's his problem, you should rest."