When we got home, I undressed and went for a shower. When I came out, I realised my evening gown was missing.
I turned to Ashton and asked, ‘Where’s my dress?’
‘Are you serious? Why would you do that? It wasn’t even mine.’
‘Exactly why I got rid of it,’ he replied, still frosty.
‘How am I supposed to return it now?’ I complained. ‘You threw it away. What do I give back to him?’
‘He can afford a dress.’
‘He didn’t ask for it back. I want to return it. I don’t want to keep anything from him,’ I said, shooting him a look. ‘And you went and binned it.’
‘I’ll have someone find an identical one tomorrow. They’ll have it delivered to him. You’re not to handle it yourself, and you’re not to see him. Understood?’
‘You’re jealous, aren’t you?’
‘Let’s just go to bed. It’s late.’ He pulled me down to the bed with him.
‘Genevieve must’ve been bailed out by now, don’t you think?’ I thought out loud.
‘No idea,’ he said flatly, as if he couldn’t care less.
‘You don’t know, or you don’t want to know?’ I knew I shouldn’t talk about her, but I couldn’t help myself.
His answer was a kiss that stole all the oxygen from my brain, and made me forget Genevieve ever existed.
But troubles wouldn’t go away just because you ignored them.
The next afternoon, I received another call from Rhys.
‘Hello,’ I answered, already frowning.
‘Was returning the dress your idea, or his?’
‘It was mine,’ I said, surprised Ashton had actually followed through.
‘Because my husband doesn’t like me accepting gifts from other men.’
Rhys sighed, then said, ‘You kept your end of the bargain by coming to the event with me, so I should honour mine. I have the recording for you. Let’s have dinner tonight. I’ll fill you in on what I’ve found.’
‘You can tell me over the phone.’
‘It’s not something I can explain quickly, and I have some things to show you. I’ll wait outside your studio tonight,’ he said, then hung up before I could refuse.
‘I’m taking you somewhere tonight,’ Ashton said after I’d answered.
‘I can’t tonight. I’ve already made plans.’
‘Another time, then.’ I could hear the disappointment in his voice.
‘Since when did you start planning spontaneous nights out?’ I asked. It wasn’t like him.
‘Naomi suggested it. She said with everything that’s been going on, we could all use a relaxed evening. Ryan’s coming, and Cassian too. But if you’re busy, it can wait.’
‘Tell you what, I’ll join you after I’m done. It might be late, though.’
‘That works. I’ll pick you up afterwards.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll make my own way.’
That evening after work, I reluctantly went to meet Rhys.
‘Well? Are you going to tell me what you found, or not?’ I asked as soon as I sat down.
Truth was, I knew Ashton’s resources and connections were far better than Rhys’s. If I asked him about Frank, he’d probably uncover more, and faster.
But until he was ready to be honest with me about Genevieve, I didn’t want to bring it to him.
A marriage should be built on mutual trust, not one-sided openness.
‘Are you in that much of a hurry to leave?’ Rhys asked, looking hurt.
I ignored his expression. ‘If you’re not going to talk, I’m leaving.’
He picked up the menu. I stopped him. ‘Talk first. No ordering until you do, or I walk.’
Rhys gave in. ‘Fine.’
He handed me a small flash drive. ‘This is the recording you heard before, but I had it cleaned up. The audio is clearer now. I’ve listened to it myself.’
‘Frank mentioned an address. I looked into it—it was a hotel. But when I called, they said he’d already checked out.’
‘Did they say where he went after?’
Rhys shook his head. ‘Client confidentiality. Even if they knew, they wouldn’t tell me.’
I was disappointed. So he didn’t know where Frank was. What was the point of this meeting, then?
‘But I did find out something else,’ Rhys added.
‘He wasn’t alone. The hotel front desk mentioned he’d booked a single room, but he was often seen coming and going with another man during his stay.’ Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵※𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮※𝓷𝓮𝓽
‘No idea. The hotel wouldn’t provide a photo—same privacy excuse. I thought if we could access their security footage, we might see for ourselves.’
‘Do you know how to do that?’ I asked, thinking he meant hacking, which reminded me uncomfortably of what had been done to my studio’s database.
‘No, not really. It was just a thought,’ he admitted.
I considered it. ‘There might be another way.’ A legal way that wouldn’t land me in prison.
Rhys told me. I looked it up. The hotel was owned by a hospitality group, which was in turn owned by several companies and investors. It didn’t surprise me to find that one of those parent companies eventually traced back to LGH.
If I asked Ashton, as CEO, he could request that the subsidiary company ask the hotel management to hand over the surveillance footage. They could even provide Frank’s room number, transaction records, length of stay—everything they had on him.
‘What are you thinking?’ Rhys asked.
‘Nothing,’ I said, shaking my head. I didn’t have to share my plans with him. I took the flash drive. ‘Thanks for this.’
Rhys hurried to his feet. ‘Wait. Don’t go.’
‘I don’t think we have anything else to discuss.’
‘At least have a meal with me. We’re already here.’
‘I have somewhere else to be.’
‘You should be careful,’ Rhys blurted out.