The Velvet Collar

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The Velvet Collar Page 17

by C. P. Mandara


  Rolling over on to my back, I frantically wiped my tears away. It did no good. They refused to stop. How many women was Mark cheating on me with, anyway? Ten, twenty, fifty, or could it be more? Knowing Mark, he probably had a huge office with hundreds of women in it. All of whom were sure to be supermodel thin and stunningly gorgeous. How could I compete with that? Mark was handsome, intelligent, amazing in bed, and a bloody billionaire to boot. There wasn't a woman in the world who would refuse him - but could I share him with others? I didn't know the answer to that. Inside my head, my husband was fucking everything that moved, and I couldn't focus worth a damn. Had he meant it when he said "I love you"? Or did he say that to everyone? Was Mark Matthews just a rich playboy who would never grow up? Perhaps I was just some interim amusement that would dull with time. How much time, though?

  In the end my hysterics finally exhausted me, sending me into the oblivion I craved.

  "Jen. Jen, can you hear me? Are you awake?" The voice was quite soft, but was annoyingly persistent, and no matter how many times I rolled over or tried to stuff the pillow in my ear, it would not go away. "Jen, please wake up, we need to talk."

  The day's events came rushing back to me in a horrible black fog that instantly swamped my head. Propping myself up on the pillows, I felt horribly dizzy as I tried to listen to what Mark was saying.

  "Jen, I have soup, and I have a club sandwich. I also have chocolate, crackers, cheese, some fruit salad, and if none of that works, I promise I'll find something that does. There's water, gin, and a bottle of wine, too. Please let me in, Jen. Don't make me do the chainsaw thing."

  Rubbing my eyes with my fingertips didn't make them any less sore, but I guessed I had to face the music. I couldn't stay locked up in here forever, and it was bad enough knowing I would be a prisoner in this house for the foreseeable future, so I might as well make use of the little freedom I had.

  "Wait a minute. I'll let you in." My throat was dry and scratchy. I desperately needed some water. Getting to my feet a little unsteadily, I had to yank at the chair twice to get it to budge. Eventually it did, and then my husband came charging through the door like a whirlwind, picking me up in his arms and taking me straight back to bed. Now, wait just a minute.

  "You said you had water," I said accusingly, "along with all manner of other goodies. I hope you weren't lying."

  "They're just outside the door. You want them now?"

  "Just the water." I agreed we needed to talk. After the talk, I might need the wine and the gin, but I'd stick to the soft stuff for now.

  "How about a couple of crackers, too? You haven't eaten all day, Jen." He looked worried, but that was too bad.

  "It's difficult to build up an appetite after you've learned that not only is your husband cheating behind your back, but he's doing so with a small arsenal of women he's got conveniently stashed away in his office."

  "I can exp—"

  There was no way I was going to let him get a word in edgeways.

  "That's not something you can explain away. Now I know why you married me, and I still feel guilty about that, but I can't live in a marriage of convenience. I'm not a toy. You can't play with me one moment, and then decide to play with someone else a couple of hours later. It doesn't work like that. Relationships are hard work, and they require trust. If you can't give me that, then I want out."

  Mark sat down on the edge of the bed and handed me a bottle of water. "Are you asking me for a divorce?"

  "If you want to keep your office harem, then yes, I'm asking for a divorce. Every time you're late back from the office, I don't want to imagine you in bed with all those women. It will destroy me. Being the good little wife safely stashed at home, never questioning your whereabouts is not something I can do. I deserve more than that."

  "If I let you go, who will keep you safe from Kyle and your father?" It was a good question and one I hadn't thought of.

  "I'll figure something out," I said tiredly. "I have friends I can go to."

  "None who will keep you safe against that pair, I'll bet." He was right. That didn't mean I was going to stay married to him, though.

  "I don't need your protection." My face was mutinous. I was giving my husband a chance here. I loved Mark too much to toss away what we had without at least trying to save our relationship, but as yet all he was throwing at me were curveballs. All I wanted to hear was that he was going to get rid of all those women and start afresh. But even if I did hear that, I didn't know if it would make me feel any better. Knowing he'd been going behind my back was a knife wound that would take years to repair.

  "What if you're carrying my child?" My eyes flew open at that sentence, and I growled at him and reached for the lampshade.

  "Don't even think of throwing that at me, young lady. If you do you'll get a spanking right here and now, even though you still haven't managed to hear my end of the story - and there are always two sides to a story. You especially should know that." My fingers reluctantly returned to the bed, but I glowered at him.

  "Why didn't you stop me? Did you plan this on purpose?" There were fresh tears in my eyes. I was shortly about to be divorced, homeless, pregnant, and on the run from two psychopaths. That was a little too much for me to handle all at once.

  "Don't cry, Jen. Please don't cry."

  Mark's face became very serious as he gathered me up and cuddled me to his chest. I was having none of it. Pummelling my fists against him, I wailed, "How could you do this to me? You're a monster." I said it over and over, and he did nothing. He let me cry myself out again, and he tolerated my fists for a while, before he pulled my body closer to him, giving me no room to do anything except breathe. That made everything worse. The bastard smelled so good I wanted to eat him, and here I was supposed to be getting rid of him. Dissolving into a fresh fit of tears, Mark sighed heavily and pulled a hankie from his pocket. "You need to stop crying, so I can explain."

  "I can't stop crying," I howled again, and a couple of fist shots went out before I was restrained once more.

  "Fine, I'll just talk really loudly until you get the message." His voice was now deafening, and I think the tears stopped in shock. "I am not having sex with all the women in my office. I am not even having sex with half of them. In fact, I am not having sex with any of them. If it makes you feel better, there's only three women and two men who work there at the moment. Of the women, Cynthia is nearing retirement age, her sister isn't far behind her, and Francis may be young, but she is also my cousin. You have my solemn word, hand on heart, that I am not having sex with any of them."

  My head began to pull away from where it had been restrained against his chest and this time he let it, but he kept a tight hold of me, just in case.

  "But you did have sex with them? That wasn't a lie, was it?" Now I didn't know who to believe. Mum wasn't lying to me, was she?

  He sighed. "Yes, I did, and lots more besides, else you wouldn't have met me. I abused my power over women back then in any way I could, which was probably a direct result of Sophia wielding so much power over me. I was out of control for a while, and I'm not proud of the fact." I could understand that. After the state Sophia had left Mark in last year, I was only surprised he hadn't gone completely off the rails.

  "When did you give them up?"

  "Shortly after we got together, and I realised that you weren't the vicious, scheming, manipulative bitch I thought you were." I guess I deserved that.

  "If I find out that you're lying to me..." My voice growled with a thousand unspoken words.

  "I swear on my life I am not lying." He put his hand on his chest as if to emphasise the fact. "Hell, you can come and work for me if you like; that way you'll be able to keep tabs on everyone, and we're rather short staffed at the moment. There must be something useful you can do around there." Mark looked at me doubtfully, which wasn't very flattering so I couldn't resist pointing out all the things I would be able to do for him.

  "What you mean like answering the phones in
English, German, French, Spanish, and Mandarin? Or perhaps you mean typing one hundred and twenty words per minute? I believe I have an adequate range of computer skills with experience in Word, Excel, Powerpoint, Sage..."

  "Point taken. You can start on Monday. It would be especially helpful if you could work through your lunch breaks, in my office, behind closed, lockable doors." Mark gave me a knowing look, and my eyes rolled up inside my head. "That's another fifty spanks," he said.

  "And I suppose you want to deliver them at lunchtime, too?"

  "I hadn't thought of that. What a good idea. This is getting better by the minute." He rubbed his hands together in mock glee.

  "Don't think you're off the hook yet, Matthews." I poked a finger into his chest. "What happens if I'm pregnant? And that will be your fault, by the way."

  My husband looked torn for a moment. I had a feeling I knew what he wanted to say, but he was battling the impulse for a change. This should be good, I thought.

  "That will be your decision, Jennifer. If you want my opinion I will happily provide it, but it is ultimately your decision, and I will stand by and support you, whatever you decide." It was more than I had expected. Nodding, I sighed.

  "Will you eat something now?" he pleaded. I ignored him. Food was not high on my list of priorities.

  "First thing tomorrow I am going to visit my doctor," I said firmly.

  "Over my dead body; he can come here," Mark said, just as firmly.

  "You can send your security detail out with me. Mother will be watching the roads, making sure no one's around. I think I can visit my doctor, darling, and if I can't, I might have to stamp my feet and cry lots."

  "That is blackmail, Mrs Matthews."

  "Take it or leave it," I replied.

  "Will you eat something if I let you go?"

  "There you are; you can compromise. That's the way to a healthy and happy marriage, so the experts say." This was probably pushing my luck at the minute, but I was on a roll. "Yes, I will eat something."

  "Your butt is going to be so sore this evening you won't be able to sit down at the doctor's," said Mark, as he brought in armfuls of food for me to eat. He was smiling as he thought he'd had the last word. I had news for him.

  "You're not going to be allowed to have sex until I'm back on the pill, darling, so you might as well get your kicks where you can."

  Chapter Eighteen - Mark

  Bringing the soup back upstairs, which I had now reheated, Jen was happily munching through everything I had brought her. Now able to breathe again, I'd had a glass of red to calm myself down and thanked my lucky stars that my wife was relatively easy going. Our conversation could easily have gone the other way, had she not been.

  "What did you say to get rid of my mother so quickly?" Jen held her hands out for the soup tray, and I swapped it for the one she already had on her lap. For someone who wasn't hungry five minutes ago, she was doing a marvellous job of contradicting herself.

  "I might have told her that if she didn't want you running around on the streets unprotected, her best bet was to be nice to me. If, however, she wanted us to divorce, she might as well get the papers drawn up, and sort out her spare bedroom."

  Jen snorted. "That didn't get rid of her."

  She was right, it hadn't. "No, but when I called her something very rude and demanded she get the hell out of my house before I wrapped my hands around her neck, she decided it was time to go."

  Jen looked at me, horrified. "You didn't," she whispered.

  "I absolutely did," I confirmed, and I didn't even pretend to look contrite. The nerve of that woman astounded me. While I knew she was just looking out for her daughter, there were ways and means to do so a little more delicately than she had. The woman had wanted to make a point, and she hadn't minded steamrolling me in the process. Damned if I was going to tolerate that.

  "You need to at least try to get along - for me," Jen wailed.

  "What would you have done in my place after she dropped the bomb?"

  Jen scrunched her top and bottom lip together, making her look both comical and adorable, and then shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "She did cross a line," she admitted. Well, thank God someone was on my side, I thought dryly.

  "You do know that when we have children, you'll be seeing a lot more of her." Jen was trying her hardest to keep a straight face. I was not amused.

  "I have to confess I hadn't considered that. You're right. We should never, ever, ever have children. We can both become workaholics instead." At that moment, I was deadly serious.

  "About that, I'm not sure working together would be a very good idea."

  "But how will you be able to check up on me if you're not at my side every second of the day?" I asked innocently. A spoon was thrown in my direction, which I dodged effortlessly. I was getting good at this husband and wife lark.

  "Just you wait until I have you tied up next week, Matthews. Your butt is going to be redder than a tomato." She made practice swishing motions with her left hand until I caught it tightly in mine and gave her the look.

  "You should be more concerned about your butt at this moment in time, Mrs Matthews. You get an hour, and then you're draping yourself over my lap."

  "What have I done wrong now?" she said, batting her eyelashes coquettishly. Seriously, my spankings used to be feared, and now look where we were at.

  "You mentioned the 'D' word, you don't trust me, you don't want to work with me, you wouldn't eat when told, you roll your eyes repeatedly, say cuss words, and your mother is a demon from hell. Need I say more?"

  The infuriating woman stuck her tongue out at me. Oh, I was going to have some fun this evening. Yes, lots and lots of fun. Jen would need a padded rubber ring to sit on tomorrow, and lots of Aspirin.

  "We any closer to finding out if Kyle is actually in the country or not?" My voice might have been a little bit terse, but it was nothing Khalil hadn't heard before.

  "No. I want to know how Laurel's getting her intel, too. We didn't even catch him going out of the country." Khalil sounded irked. There wasn't much that got by him, but Jen's mum was in a whole other league. It was a pity we weren't on speaking terms, else she really could have come in handy.

  "I think we both know how Laurel is getting her intel, and you won't be able to compete with her methods." Well, I certainly hoped he wouldn't. If he could, I didn't ever want to get on the wrong side of him.

  "Maybe it's time you started sleeping with the enemy then." Nearly spitting my coffee out at that sentence, I choked on bile for a minute or two before I could get my breath back.

  "She's my mother-in-law, Khalil," I said, incredulously. Not to mention the fact that Laurel looked like the kind of lady that would dissect your testicles while she made you watch, so I think it was safe to say we were never doing that.

  "Figuratively speaking, Mark, not literally. Good grief." I could almost hear Khalil thump his head on the desk, even though the office was at least thirty miles away, and I shook my head to try and clear it.

  "Sorry. My thoughts are all over the place. Jen is going out this morning. I know I shouldn't worry, but I can't help it." That was deflection, but hell, I was going with whatever worked.

  "Laurel's got all the roads covered. She'll let us know if anything looks suspicious."

  "She'd know," I remarked caustically. The latest wound she'd inflicted was still festering nicely. It could very easily have cost me my marriage - and I had Marianna to thank for that.

  "How many men are you sending with her?"

  "As many as will fit in the car comfortably, which is three."

  "I'd still advise against it. Can't the doctor come to her?" It was a sensible question, and though I'd asked my wife the same thing several times, the answer was apparently "no". Normally I'd have put my foot down, but I didn't want to make any more waves after yesterday's antics.

  Looking at the second hand on my Rolex slide down, I tipped my head back against my leather chair and tried to rel
ax. My neck muscles felt like they had seized solid this morning. Not only did I have a mountain of work to catch up with, but I also needed to keep tabs on my wife, lest she disappear.

  "Apparently not, and to be fair, I can't keep my wife a prisoner forever, much as I'd like to. If we haven't been able to get a whereabouts on either Redcliff or Kyle in a year, it's unlikely they're going to show up on the radar now. How do we get around this?"

  "I don't think we do. The ball is in his court, and you can only make your move once he's made his, and by that time it will probably be too late. My only suggestion is to start mending bridges with the mother-in-law and work together. If we can work together, perhaps we can find some sensible way out of this mess."

  The word "perhaps" did not sit well with me. There were no assurances of success coming my way, and everywhere I went I found huge, looming potholes with no end in sight. There had to be a way to dig ourselves out of this. We couldn't live like this indefinitely. The whole situation was intolerable. An if Khalil thought I was going to go off and make friends with Laurel, he was much mistaken. That woman wouldn't help me if I were the last man on earth. I had no idea why she hadn't killed me when she had the chance because the woman made no secret of the fact that she loathed me.

  "Laurel nearly got me divorced yesterday. I'm not sure I'm up to speaking to that woman just yet, but I'll keep what you've said in mind. For now, just keep on doing what you're doing and let me know if you find anything."

  Jen got to the doctors and came back in one piece. Although she'd only been gone for an hour, I'd been a total wreck, expecting thugs to pop out at every turn and whisk her away from me. Realistically, I knew I needed to give her some freedom, but the cost to my mental health was going to be high. We would need to take this one small step at a time until I could feel almost comfortable with the arrangement.

  Oh God, what happened when I had to go away for work? Should I place her under house arrest? Pinching the bridge of my nose, I reminded myself that I needed to breathe. It wouldn't always be like this. Life was going to throw us many hurdles as a couple, and we were going to have to combat them together. For now, I just wanted her nailed to my side. The last encounter with Kyle had been too close for comfort.

 

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