Sweet Scent of Revenge

By Cleopatra Paris

From age twenty to thirty four, Cassandras life is filled with betrayal, deceit and lies. Her life takes on the most unexpected turns imaginable. Yet, Cassie endures and survives, becoming a millionaire in the process.
But it is not until she marries her fourth husband, billionaire Oscar Chambers, an enigmatic, controlling sexual sadist that makes Cassie realize her days are numbered.
Forcing her to seek a unique form of revenge.
Returning to Manhattan, Cassie enters the world of New Yorks elite where she meets Jack Bartel, an undercover Special Forces agent, who suspects Cassies involvement in the death of his brother.
He begins by deceiving and romancing Cassie within a game of cat and mouse in order to learn the truth. Unknowingly, his actions place him and Cassie in another game, one of espionage, within the FBI and CIA.
Jack seeks his own form of revenge. Not only on those responsible for the death of his brother but to also to discover and stop the man operating within the government who wants Cassie eliminated at all costs.
This erotic thriller takes us on a sexy journey from Manhattan to Beverly Hills, from Rome to Dubai, all with never ending twists on every page.
Everyone agrees it reads like a movie.
Visually surprising and filled with sexual tension.
You will never guess the ending till you get there.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Mar 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493143078

Cleopatra Paris

Cleopatra was born in New York City. She moved to Athens for a number of years where she was in media and worked as a journalist. Her previous book was titled The VIP’S. She currently lives in Dubai.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

THE PAST

My life was pretty normal up until the age of seventeen. I lived with my mom and dad in a two bedroom apartment in Jersey City.

I remember, from the age of thirteen, I would look out my window and just stare, for hours, at the skyline of Manhattan, right across the river. That river divided me from what I believed to be another world.

A world I fantasized about being a part of.

Not that I wasn’t happy where I was.

For now!

My mom and dad doted on me. They had been high school sweethearts and both swore there was never anyone else from the moment they met. They always said they were soul mates and that they were destined to be together. I sort of grew up believing my life would be the same. Why not?

I was fourteen when my whole world, slowly started to unravel, although at the time, I would never had believed to what extent.

My mom, Lily was diagnosed with cancer. She put up a brave fight. Dad had good insurance from his job which paid for a lot of her therapy but after a three year battle, mom succumbed. Through it all, my dad, Danny, was a rock.

Naturally when mom passed, we cried and cried, missing her terribly. Everything we did or spoke of reminded us of her.

But one day, dad just stopped talking. It was as if something snapped in him. I kept the house clean and cooked nice dinners hoping we’d have conversations about each other’s day, like we used to. Even when mom was sick, dad would come home from work with some funny story. He always managed to make us laugh. Now, I couldn’t remember the last time I saw him so much as smile.

This all happened during my senior year in high school which was also having a major effect on my future.

I was a straight A student. My goal was to get into a good university and study business and marketing, but without mom’s paycheck, that dream went out the window.

Was I disappointed? Sure, but my bigger concern was dad. He was changing more and more as the year progressed. I assured him I’d get a good job, go to school at night, anything to help put our little family back on track but nothing had any meaning to him. It was as if I was talking to myself, dad wasn’t there. The love, the bond we once shared had vanished, disappeared as if it had never existed.

I subtlety suggested he seek professional help but dad just ignored me.

I noticed he would forget to change his shirt, often wearing the same shirt two, three days in a row.

I reminded him, "Dad, I always have fresh shirts ironed for you, but you’re still wearing the same one.

Oh! He looked down at his soiled shirt and shook his head, I’m a bit absent minded lately, ain’t as young as I used to be.

Forty seven is hardly old. I countered playfully, encouragingly.

In the beginning he went to work everyday but as the months passed, I heard him calling in sick more and more often. If he kept that up, he’d lose his job and then what would become of us? How would we live? Where would we live?

He began to skip dinner entirely, going straight to his room, avoiding any contact with me whatsoever. One night I ran after him before he had a chance to close the door.

Dad, this has got to stop. You’re not eating. You’re missing work. Please, please tell me how I can help? I pleaded.

I wish I had the answers, Cassie. I don’t. It’s not you, it’s me. He leaned against the door, a look of complete and utter defeat written across his face.

Then why are you shutting me out like this? Let me help. Please dad. I begged, crying helplessly.

There’s nothing you can do Cassandra. Nothing at all! He answered and then, before I could say another word, he abruptly slammed the door in my face.

I was devastated. How could he do this to me? I slumped down against the wall and continued to cry. In the end, I fell asleep, right there, on the floor, outside his door.

I couldn’t understand what was happening to my father?

I understood his depression was over mom but after almost a year, I believed he’d realize life goes on and grieving takes on a different process.

He just gave up living and didn’t seem to care about anything anymore. Not about himself, his job, and least of all, me. That’s when I began to worry about financial security, and our future. If dad continued like this, I was afraid we’d end up on the street.

It was the last week of school, right before graduation when I got home and found dad asleep on the sofa. That meant he had skipped another day of work. I shook him. I wanted to wake him, shout at him, for I was at my own breaking point after all this time.

But when I shook him, he fell to the ground. The second I saw his face, I knew.

My dad was dead!

I called an ambulance hoping I was wrong. When the medics arrived they found an empty bottle of pills under the sofa pillow. An autopsy confirmed dad committed suicide. I found his note two days later. He said he couldn’t live without mom and he was sorry.

Sorry! That’s all he could say? He abandoned me! Deserted me! Didn’t he care what was to become of me?

How could he leave me all alone? How could he be so selfish? My dad dealt me the ultimate betrayal. Wasn’t a father supposed to always love his child and always be there to offer love and support?

He left me his life savings of exactly seventeen thousand dollars. It should have been eighteen, one for each year I loved and trusted him, never believing he could be so cruel and heartless and do anything so horrific as to leave me alone and betray me like this.

I buried him next to mom. She would have wanted it that way, I did it for her, but after that, it was as if he never existed. I wanted to block him out of my life and what he had done to me, forever.

I hated him for being so weak. Mom would never have left me like that. In his own way, dad taught me a valuable lesson.

You can give your love, your trust, your heart to a man but you’ll never know what he’ll do to you in the end. Even your own father!

I left the apartment and everything in it, but took the cash.

I crossed the river, rented a small apartment in Manhattan and never looked back.

I had made up mind I was going to live my life, my way, the way I always dreamed of.

I knew I had three things going for me. Everyone always told me I was beautiful. I knew I was good looking, but beautiful? Maybe I had taken my looks for granted? Well, no more!

I’m a natural blonde and my hair is thick and falls in soft curls, looking somewhat tousled but in a nice way. I have green eyes that slant slightly upward, defining my cheekbones. I rarely exercise or even diet which made practically every girl at school hate me since my figure is about as perfect as perfect can be. I have my mom to thank for that and her good genes.

But what I’m sure is my greatest asset is that I have brains and lots of ambition. I am a survivor. I have goals and I’m determined to make them happen.

CHAPTER TW0

I had transformed myself into a sophisticated young woman by now, having landed a job at Saks Fifth Avenue. I’m sure my looks helped get my foot in the door but hard work, fortitude and lack of a personal life, got me the position of assistant buyer within two years.

I met Richard at a Saks fund raiser. I do believe his jaw dropped the first time he glanced my way and he made sure he didn’t lose sight of me from that moment on. Naturally, I was flattered, especially since I knew who he was. It was part of my job to know every name on the guest list by heart, where they lived, what they did for living and most importantly, their net worth.

I may have been only twenty but had no intentions of getting involved with anyone who did not meet my prerequisites for a serious relationship. Richard did! He was thirty, handsome, a stock broker on Wall Street and in a secure position within his father’s established brokerage firm. Richard was the complete package.

I remember how long it took him to finally summon the courage to approach me that night. At the time I thought it sweet that he was this sexy, successful guy and yet so shy.

Do you know you are the most beautiful woman in this room? He claimed, finally coming over, handing me a glass of champagne from the buffet table.

Oh, I highly doubt that. I answered with just the right nuance of modesty.

You’re right! You’re not! I stand corrected. You are the most beautiful woman on the planet. He raised his glass and made a silly toast.

We laughed, which helped put us both at ease and break the ice.

And that’s how it began.

How can I best describe Richard?

He had light brown hair, penetrating deep blue eyes, a strong, square jaw, and very appealing broad shoulders. Despite being so attractive, he wasn’t overly confident or cocky. He could be charming and funny but it didn’t come easy.

Later he confessed he had silently practiced his now famous opening line for half the evening before he came over to speak to me. I thought it brave of him to make such an admission.

His social standing and family background was also appealing. Richard was considered quite a catch. After all, the Osgood family is one of New York’s elite, a name on the Social Register. I saw the looks of envy, by other girls, within Richard’s circle, when we appeared together at social happenings.

I liked the fact Richard wasn’t overly aggressive, otherwise, he might have scared me away for despite my own good looks, I was inwardly, quite shy.

Richard was the quiet type, deep and dependable. I liked that he had a quiet reserve quality about him.

I had put all my energy into getting ahead in my job and hadn’t devoted much time into having a serious relationship before. Much to my relief Richard was patient with me and wasn’t the hungry type who rushed you into bed.

In spite of my slick city girl appearance, I was not as experienced as most girls and wasn’t the type that had slept around. At first, I felt insecure about my lack of experience but Richard assured me he was not bothered by it.

Cassandra, much as I love sex, it is not the most important factor in establishing a good relationship. I’m a very patient guy.

If mom were alive, she would have told me Richard was a keeper, the kind of guy who appreciates a girl with values.

He wasn’t very verbal about his feelings, and having a ‘steady boyfriend’ was so new to me, I wasn’t thinking where we were heading.

One night we were having dinner with his older brother Robert and his girlfriend, when Richard wanted to make an announcement. I had butterflies in my stomach. I had no idea what he was going to say.

I know it’s only been a month since we first met but you’ve made me so happy, I want you to have this. He handed me a gift wrapped little box from Cartier.

Oh, my! I exclaimed, totally surprised, The Cartier Love Bracelet. How did you know? I love it. Thank you so much.

I saw you eyeing it longingly when we went window shopping the other day and I couldn’t resist.

Well, I must say, my little brother is definitely smitten, Cassandra. I don’t believe he’s ever been extravagant with any young lady before. Robert leaked new information to us all.

You don’t have to give away all my secrets, Robert. He laughed.

Oh, I know the brothers sound a bit stuffy in their own way but once I had my first invitation to the Osgood home, it was clear the brothers aspired to be just like their father.

And to be perfectly honest, their world was so far removed from my own, I actually felt flattered by their acceptance.

Not to mention how delighted I was by Richard’s gift that particular evening. It made me feel special, more so, after learning he wasn’t in the habit of giving gifts to every girl he’d dated. I took it to mean that perhaps we were heading towards a more serious relationship.

We’d been dating for some months when Richard said he had a big surprise for my upcoming birthday. Of course, I was more than curious. I would have been thrilled with reservations to one of my favorite restaurants and a thoughtful little gift, but admittedly, his idea was a lot better.

Pack a small suitcase. We’re going away for the weekend. He smiled slyly.

And where are we going kind sir. I asked casually.

Paris! Girl like you deserves the best. We’re staying at the Ritz and we’re going on a massive shopping spree.

That weekend was a dream. I never believed in all my fantasies something so incredible could happen to me. It was like ‘Pretty Woman’ without the wig.

The red carpet was rolled out for us everywhere. Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Jimmy Choo, Hermes, Prada and of course, Chanel.

Our last stop was an unexpected visit to Tiffany’s. The moment we walked in the manager rushed over to us, took Richard aside and ushered us both to a private viewing room. There, Richard actually got down on one knee and proposed.

I was flabbergasted. We had only known each other for six months.

Cassandra, will you do me the honor? He asked, waiting for my answer before actually placing, what I calculated to be at least a four carat emerald cut diamond, on my finger.

I always imagined the man I’d marry would do something old fashioned like that. When Richard did just that, he became my real life Prince.

Oh, yes, yes, Richard. I literally gushed, holding my hand up to the light, gazing at my new engagement ring.

I want you to know you’ve made me so happy. I will always love and take care of you. He told me with great sincerity.

I began to believe in my own fairy tale. Had I found my soul mate?

Richard may have overwhelmed me in many ways, but I wasn’t madly in love with him, although I truly believed with all my heart, I would come to love him very much, in time.

I wasn’t sure if I was capable of giving myself completely to anyone. Was I being too cautious or was I afraid? After what my father did to me I kind of kept my emotions bottled up in a safe place.

Still, I knew marrying Richard just felt right. He was kind and good and most of all, he hadn’t given me any reason to mistrust him. He promised to always love me, offered financial security, a safe haven, a home and eventually, hopefully, a family of our own. It was all I ever really dreamed of.

Richard bought a lovely two bedroom apartment on Park Avenue. It was exciting furnishing it together although we were on a limited budget since the apartment set Richard back about three million. It was really quite large and admittedly quite a few thousand steps up from my rented little studio.

Our wedding was an ‘over the top’ affair. The guest list not only included the social elite of New York but also the governor and mayor among the invitees. I felt as if I had really made it. I was now an official member of one of New York’s most prestigious families.

Now that we were married, Richard insisted I quit my job. I loved my job and liked the feeling of being independent and earning my way but Richard was quite adamant that Osgood women did not work.

Richard was terribly busy at the office, so much so, he couldn’t take time off for an extended honeymoon so we opted for a week at St. Bart’s. I thought it a wonderful idea. The sunshine and beaches would do us both a lot of good and islands are always conducive for romance.

Quite honestly, I had great expectations for our honeymoon. I was looking forward to being seduced with never ending passion and making love morning, noon and night.

Isn’t that what honeymoons are all about?

My new husband had other ideas. From our first night on, he suddenly became this social butterfly, chatting up every other honeymoon couple on the island. We were never alone and when we were, Richard claimed exhaustion and that he would make it up to me tomorrow.

We only had two ‘tomorrows’ the entire week on the island and they were uneventful and definitely not memorable. I began to think Richard didn’t find me attractive. Undesirable?

If this was the case, we were doomed to have a terrible marriage. Yet I summoned the courage to ask him what I could do to improve our lovemaking.

He was quite blaze about it all, Darling, you’re my wife. Why are you worrying yourself over sex? It will get better in time. We love each other. Isn’t that all that matters.

But it did matter! Even on the rare occasions we did have sex, it was just awful. Richard managed to have an orgasm in the blink of an eye. Literally!

It felt as if he was doing me a favor, his duty as my husband, rather than a man eager to make love to his wife. He sure didn’t concern himself about pleasing me. I so wanted to experience that great over the top orgasm every woman whispers to her BFF about. To make matters worse, sex was always a silent affair. If I tried to talk, Richard would put his hand over my mouth to let me know it wasn’t appreciated.

I so wanted to talk to my one and only friend, Buffy about it, but I was ashamed to share this with her. What if the problem was me?

I turned a blind eye, convincing myself the rest of Richard’s qualities were so worthwhile and our marriage was too important to risk complaining and thinking only about sex.

CHAPTER THREE

I really didn’t have many close friends. I had met Buffy while working at Saks. She was considerably older than me but her spirit wasn’t. She was the only person to really befriend me and I adored her but Richard didn’t approve of our friendship.

I truly don’t understand why you enjoy that woman’s company? Any woman married and divorced three times is not ‘our’ kind of people, Cassandra. He proclaimed in his high handed manner.

I don’t judge my friends, Richard. Buffy has always been nice to me and I like her. She’s real, not a phony like so many of the women I met at Saks.

That’s another thing. Why does someone as wealthy as Buffy befriend a lowly employee? Be a love and have nothing to do with her. He came round and put his arms around me, You’re my wife now and I want you focusing only on me. He then kissed my cheek and walked away, his way of dismissing any further discussion.

I didn’t bother reminding him he had married that same particular, lowly employee but it did open my eyes to what a snob Richard was.

I began to wonder if the entire family felt the same about me?

Or for that matter the wives of Richard’s associates? They rarely extended themselves to more than a cordial hello and a few polite words.

We were invited to dinner once a week, without fail, to Richard’s parents’ home. The dinners were always uneventful and predictable. There were times I could have slept right through the evening and doubt anyone would have noticed. After dinner, the women were left to talk about ‘women things’ as the men liked to call it while they adjourned to the smaller salon, for whiskey and cigars to discuss, what else, the market.

Have you any idea how boring stock brokers are? I didn’t, until I had attended enough functions and parties to arrive at this conclusion. All they talk about is the market. Be it the New York exchange, the Tokyo exchange, or the European exchange.

We were having our weekly dinner at the Osgoods. Richard’s parents were present, his older brother Robert, younger brother Roland, his married sister, her husband and two children and two partners from the firm, with their wives.

It had always been an unspoken rule business was never discussed over dinner, so I was more than surprised when Richard’s father began a heated discussion.

Osgood Sr. turned to Richard and told him in no uncertain terms, I’d like you to take over the Turnbull account. It wasn’t so much what he had said but the way he said it that made everyone turn to see Richard’s reaction.

But father, that account has little promise. It’s never made much money. Richard protested with a tiny fragment of vigor.

Well then, let’s see what you’re capable off. I’ve been pampering you long enough. It’s time to earn your keep. His father said sharply.

I couldn’t help but notice the smug look on Robert’s face, even Roland was smirking, as was their father. That’s when Robert added, Dad’s right Richard. You’ve not done much for the firm all this time.

I pulled in over two mil, profit alone, last year. My husband cried defensively. How much did you pull in Robert?

Osgood Sr. interrupted abruptly, We’re not here to question Robert’s performance. Just yours!

The harassment continued all night. It was the worse case of verbal abuse I had ever witnessed and I couldn’t believe it was being dished out by his own family in front of all of us. It was difficult to accept how fainthearted Richard actually was, as he just sat there, weakly defending himself.

When we returned home, Richard was, understandably, visibly shaken, I did my best to comfort him and get him to talk to me. I expected a mature conversation, not a grown man whining about his daddy and his brothers.

Oh, Cassandra, I do whatever I can yet I’m always criticized. I can’t take it anymore. I’ll never be good enough for my father.

Well then, why don’t you leave? I told him simply.

Leave? The firm? He asked incredulously.

Yes. Why not? I’m sure there are other firms that would be thrilled to have you.

Are you out of your mind? This is my family. He was stunned at my suggestion. Have you an idea of the humiliation I’ll face if I approach another firm? They’ll all say I couldn’t make it with father.

I truly don’t believe that will be the general attitude, Richard. Your departure from the firm may also be viewed as an act of independence and make you all the more attractive.

So that’s your solution, Cassandra? He asked, in that superior tone he had begun using all too often. It was as if he was blaming me.

Why don’t you sleep on it, Richard? We can discuss it some other time. It seems to me you’ve allowed your father and brothers to badger you far too long. Sometimes a change is the only answer. After all, can you honestly keep taking the abuse? I offered.

Abuse? They’ve my best interests at heart. It’s just their way. He said, defending the very same people who had ridiculed and made a mockery of him all evening.

Well, Richard never did do anything about the situation at the office. What did change was how he treated me when he came home. Instead of complaining about work, he began to criticize everything I did.

I truly believed it was a passing faze. Things would get better at the office and so would Richard and our marriage.

I never considered there was the remotest possibility there was a more complex explanation.

I soon learned differently.

CHAPTER FOUR

We were married little over a year now and I had become increasingly bored being a stay-at-home wife. I really had little to do all day. Richard often worked late at the office and our lives revolved around his family and social obligations.

Our love life hadn’t improved either.

I felt emotionally empty. Unloved!

I needed intellectual stimulation, a challenge in my life.

Richard was adamant, more than ever about my returning to Saks.

My only connection, outside the Osgood world, was Buffy. Needless to say, whenever the opportunity arose, I didn’t hesitant to defy Richard’s orders and have lunch with her as often as possible.

So when Richard mentioned he’d be out of town for the day, visiting a client in Connecticut, I immediately called Buffy and set up a lunch date. As an added precaution, we lunched uptown, far from Richard’s Wall Street office. I wasn’t taking any chances of bumping into someone from the firm.

Buffy was never disappointing and was always a bright light in my otherwise humdrum life. Unfortunately, she had an appointment with her attorney that day and had to cut our lunch date short.

Not in the mood to go directly home, I decided to take a stroll and do some window shopping when my eye caught a reflection of Richard in the store window from across the street.

Admittedly, I was stunned to see him and then rationalized that perhaps his appointment had been cancelled. Then again, what was he doing in this part of town?

For some idiotic reason I didn’t want him to see me so I hid in the entrance of a nearby boutique.

That’s when I noticed Richard wasn’t alone.

He wasn’t with his brother or a colleague either. He was with a man I’d never met or seen before. Not that I’d met all his clients but this guy just didn’t look the ‘broker type’.

First off, he was much younger than any of the firm’s usual clients, or brokers, and was dressed casually, not in a business suit. Yet, they appeared to know each other very well. It was unmistakable to assume differently by the way they were chatting and by their body language. I had never seen Richard quite so animated.

I decided to follow them. I remember thinking to myself, Cassie, are you crazy? Crazy or not, there I was, following my husband from across a crowded Manhattan street in the middle of the day.

I watched as they entered an expensive men’s shop. Richard was absolutely exuberant, as he excitedly held up sweaters and shirts to the other man’s chest. They were clearly enjoying themselves, laughing together like silly school boys. Then Richard took a few items to the register and paid for them, which wouldn’t have been unusual, except for the fact he handed the shopping bag to his companion, who happily thanked him.

That’s when I had the chance to study the other man better. Upon closer inspection, I saw he was quite handsome but in a pretty boy way, very young with a fresh look about him.

Then for a brief moment, Richard took the man’s hand. It wasn’t a handshake either. He actually held the other man’s hand just a fraction too long. All the while, they never stopped gazing at each other.

I don’t think Richard ever looked at me quite that way. Ever!

My mind was racing a mile a minute, if only I could talk to Buffy and see what she thought, but I didn’t dare. Besides, I couldn’t be sure it was what it appeared to be. I was all alone on this and hadn’t the foggiest idea what to do.

I went home and practiced what I would say to Richard but then I would have to confess I met Buffy. No, wait! I could just say I went window shopping.

That’s when it hit me. Except for our little shopping spree before we were married and my bracelet, Richard hadn’t been very generous since we married. I didn’t even have a credit card. Whatever I wanted to shop, I had to clear with him first, tell him the cost and then if he approved, I could buy it.

It did bother me having to be totally dependent on Richard and I would have preferred having my own money. But whenever I so much as broached the subject of going back to work, I was quickly reminded that my ‘measly paycheck’ wasn’t worth the time I’d be away from home.

That was Richard’s term of reference, not mine.

But watching Richard splurge happily on that young man was not only startling, but offensive. It hurt so much, I felt my stomach all twisted up inside. Why was I trying so hard to deny the truth about Richard? While there it was, staring me in the face!

He was treating that man the way he should be treating me! His wife!

Then slowly, everything else made sense too! Was this the reason for his lack of affection towards me? Or why he didn’t desire me sexually?

I suddenly had my answers. There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with me except that I was the wrong sex.

It was best to come clean and tell Richard what I saw. After all, that would mean we were both living a lie and he couldn’t be happy about that. I certainly wasn’t. I did care about him and didn’t want to hurt him but I had to confront him.

I prepared an especially nice dinner that evening and when we were midway through our meal, I delicately approached my topic.

You know, darling, I went window shopping today.

Oh! See anything you like? He asked casually.

Not really! But I did see you.

Me? Pausing a fraction too long, before he said, Ah, yes, my meeting in Hartford got cancelled last minute. Sorry I didn’t think to mention it, wasn’t very important.

Who was that you were with? I calmly asked, almost chipper like.

New guy from the office, don’t believe you’ve met him yet.

He seemed rather young. Your father doesn’t usually hire such young men for the firm. I paused, adding, What’s his name.

Suddenly Richard threw his napkin down and raised his voice, he demanded, See here Cassandra, what are these questions all about? I don’t see it any concern of yours… .

I fiercely interrupted, No concern of mine? I saw you buy him a load of clothes, I was just across the street.

You were spying on me? Of all the nerve! Who do you think you are?

Your wife for starters, something you’ve obviously forgotten. I could tell we were going to get into an awful argument so I quickly lowered my voice, hoping we could have a civilized conversation.

Look Richard, I don’t want to argue but I think I deserve the truth. Are you having an affair with that young man? I mean… .

That’s when all hell broke loose.

Why you poor excuse for a woman. How dare you accuse me of such a thing? I took you from the gutter and you question me. He was standing now, his face red as could be.

Advancing towards me I was at a loss what he would do next.

He pulled me off my seat, pulled my hair till he was dragging me on the floor. You are nothing but my accessory. Why do you think I married you?

I believed you loved me… . I stammered.

"Love! Love! Love! I’m sick of the word. Are you that big a fool?

Didn’t you ever wonder why I didn’t marry a socialite, one of my own kind? You need me, so shut your mouth and don’t ever speak to me about this again if you know what’s good for you.

Then he walked off, as was his habit.

Subject closed.

The next morning Richard apologized profusely, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me? You do forgive me, don’t you?

I think you owe me an explanation… .

We’ll talk tonight. I promise!

He tried to give me a quick peck on the cheek. A valiant attempt at affection, I suppose. I instinctively pulled away. His touch repulsed me.

I’m sure, this once, he preferred the situation he endured at the office rather than another confrontation with me.

That didn’t stop me from thinking all day. I weighed my options. What if I asked Richard for a divorce? What if he really loved this man? What if… ., what if… what if?

I was determined Richard and I discuss all that occurred last night in a civilized manner. I sure as hell didn’t want another beating for my troubles.

I made a lovely dinner and bought a bottle of red wine, hoping both will help us relax and keep things calm. As it was, even under the best of circumstances, Richard usually arrived home uptight and belligerent, after being degraded all day, at the office, by his father and brother.

Just as we were sitting down to dinner and I was pouring the wine, his mobile began to ring non-stop. Excusing himself, he dashed into the bedroom and closed the