Betrayed By Husband, Stolen By Brother In Law

Chapter 23 - Who Did This?

There was a knock on the door and a few moments later, the butler of the large private club walked in. After a single look around the room, he walked to Adam and whispered something discreetly in Adam's ears.

Adam's expression stilled, his relaxed demeanor shifting in an instant. Without a word, he pushed back his chair and stood up, drawing the attention of the other men in the room.

"Leaving so soon?" one of them called out in protest, quickly followed by a chorus of similar complaints but Adam merely waved them off with a casual flick of his wrist. "Enjoy the drinks," he said as he departed.

And then without any further explanation, he turned on his heel and strode toward the door, gesturing for the butler to bring her to the private room.

Whatever it was that he had expected, the woman who walked in was not the one. He'd seen her dressed in sharp suits in the last many weeks and many times even wondered how she would look in a jeans or a dress. But this was unexpected. She was wearing a lose sweater, that did nothing to enhance her figure and the jeans was so ill fitted that it would probably fit two of her in. And then there was her face. Half of it was covered with over sized sunglasses.

Adam waited for her to sit down as he pulled a chair before stepping back. He would have teased her but there was something in her demeanor, that air of desolation around her that cautioned him to maintain his distance for now. So he gave her the space she seemed to need.

Once she was in her place, he leaned back in his chair as he studied her. "Did you have fun?"

She stilled, the faintest twitch in her fingers betraying her reaction. "What do you mean?" she asked cautiously, her tone carefully neutral.

He lifted a shoulder in an easy shrug. "Wasn't that where you were? Out with your friends? Having fun?" His words were smooth, almost offhand, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath them. "At least, that's what Spencer told me."

For a second, she froze, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. Then, as if coming to a decision, she let out a quiet breath and looked straight at him. "Is your proposition still on the table?"

His lips quirked slightly, though his expression remained unreadable. So, she wasn't even going to reply to that? He shrugged. He could stick to the point when needed. "Of course. I was expecting an answer today."

She seemed to hesitate for a moment before she nodded," Then I accept it. We can sign the papers whenever you want."

With that, she seemed to be waiting for him. As if he would wave his hands and the papers would appear out of thin air. And he coudl do that. He'd known she would accept and had the papers already drawn. But... "Why?"

She frowned, almost confused by his question. "What do you mean, why?"

Instead of answering her question, Adam pushed back his chair and stepped around the table, to lean next to her.

She stiffened but didn't move away. She never did, when he came too close. As if she needed to prove to him that he did not affect her. But even now, he could see that the effect he usually had was not what it was today. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she braced herself.

And so, without warning, he reached out.

His fingers brushed against her cheek and then her sunglasses had been taken off her face in one swift motion. "Because," he continued coldly, "if we're going to move forward with this, we shouldn't keep secrets from each other."

Her breath caught, and for a moment, she just sat there, frozen, as if deciding whether to lash out or retreat. But it was too late to hide now.

The atmosphere around them dropped as he stared at her swollen eyes and the blue bruise which was now faint, indicating it was only a few days old.

His jaw tightened, a sharp edge creeping into his voice as he asked coldly, "Who did this?"

Why was it that the last two times he met her, she was injured. The last time it had been that woman. But this time.. His eyes roved over the rest of her. Despite the makeup, he could see the faint swelling on the side of her lip, a telltale sign of a hit she had tried to conceal. And then there were her clothes—so unlike her.

He had yet to handle the previous matters and already they were harming her again? The oversized sweater, the ill-fitted jeans. It didn't take a genius to put the pieces together. She wasn't just dressing down—she was hiding something.

Or rather hiding someone. He reached forward to grip her chin but stopped when she flinched and moved back. He stood up and walked away," Melanie. Either tell me who did this or you are not leaving this place."