“That’s what I thought.” He beamed. They all did. A wicked, knowing smile spread across their faces. This was what I loved about my family. We were always on the same page.
Arianna would know nothing about this. She’d told me she wanted nothing to do with them and she didn’t care what I did. She didn’t want to know. A quality that drew me to her more.
I turned to my Godmother. “I’m heading to the office. I’ll be home for dinner.”
“I’m coming with you, brother.” Enrique stepped forward.
“Me too.” Mike threw his arm around Enrique’s shoulder. Together we left the mansion and climbed into our car.
The trip to the Cortez group building took only fifteen minutes. Thanks to Mike who maneuvered the vehicle as if we were on a racetrack.
“Sir, the defense attorneys Mr. Marshall and Mr. Henderson is here,” Sheila said as soon as we entered the office.
Hmm… They came faster than I expected. “Show them to the conference room. We’ll be there shortly.”
“Sure.”
“Do you think they’ll take the bait?” Enrique asked. He rubbed the back on his neck as I pulled the documents from my desk drawer.
“They have no choice,” I said, sifting through the papers.
“I’d have preferred to get my hands dirty,” Mike grumbled under his breath. “I wanted her reputation stripped bare today.”
“That’d mean getting Ari’s name tarnished than it already was,” Benjamin responded with a cold glare. “You don’t want Ari in this mess, Mike. It is why I suggested this plan to your cousin. Today was about getting Ari out of this case and far away from this mess. And that’s exactly what we did.”
“And I appreciate that.” I turned to Benjamin. “Now that my wife is out of this, I’ll see to that her dear sister goes down for once and for all.”
“What’s next?” Mike perched his hip on the desk.
“You’ll find out soon.” I gave him one of my best smiles and his gaze narrowed before he shook his head.
“It’s creepy when you smile like that,” Mike grumbled under his breath and straightened.
We walked to the conference room, taking our sweet time. Sheila rushed to our side.
“Send us some refreshments.”
She gave a curt nod. “Right away, sir.”
“Thanks for coming at such short notice, gentlemen.”
The men at the table stiffened at the sight of us and stood. Their brows knotted, but they gave a tight smile sitting. Their suspicious gaze regarded us as we took our seats.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Cortez. But why are we here?” Henderson, the youngest of the two attorneys asked.
“You’ll know that soon.” I crossed my leg, getting comfortable. Mike and Enrique casually observed as I gestured Benjamin to go ahead.
Benjamin cleared his throat. “Mr. Cortez has a proposition.”
“We lost the case against his wife and our client will face severe damages for the mistake on our part. What kind of proposition do you offer? Because we are sure it will not help,” Mr. Marshall, the senior attorney in his early fifties spoke.
He was right. They were talking about millions.
“And if you don’t tread carefully, you’ll lose a few more millions to the Swansons and Schultz.” Benjamin raised his brows, his smirk widening.
“Why are we really here, Mr. Cortez?” Marshall turned to me. Clever. “Details please.”
“Evidence,” I murmured, leaning further in my chair. “Solid proof against the lookalike.”
Marshall swallowed, his eyes widening with interest as he shared a look with Henderson. “What do you expect of us?”
“A public apology. And possibly a heart touching the story of how the good twin impersonated the rebellious one that cost her family and reputation.”
My features hardened. Just the court removing Arianna from the case wasn’t enough. People have to learn the truth. The media rectify the damage they caused.
The attorneys spoke in hushed tones before Marshall fixated me with his gaze. “That’s doable. How legitimate is this evidence?” Marshall asked.
“How do you propose we go about this?” Henderson added.
Now I wanted to laugh. Because come on, I liked these guys. They caught the rope so quickly and were eager for the crumbs I was about to throw at them. They knew I had a plan while they didn’t. I saved them from the wrath of their clients, didn’t I?
“Benjamin will walk you through everything we have. And I trust you to keep your end of the bargain. Your clients must clean the mess they created by ruining my wife’s name.” I stood. “Now, if you may excuse, I’m late for my meeting,” I said, checking my watch and turned to Enrique. “Finish the deal and meet me back in an hour.”
“Sure, brother.”
The foundation for Alana’s doom was laid out the moment I learned how she impersonated my wife. Now I couldn’t wait for it to play the way I wanted.
***
Brian Schultz
Silence.
Uncomfortable and disturbing silence.
The house had been like a funeral home ever since we returned. The Swansons were pale and appeared crestfallen. Alana hadn’t moved a muscle. She kept staring at the far end of the wall in our bedroom. And my parents were furious at how that lawyer Benjamin threw everything at us.
I couldn’t believe it myself. We thought we had it all. We had the photos as proof. What more did we need? I thought Orlando would finally see her for what she was when we proved Arianna’s infidelity. I was so eager to prove him wrong and wanted to poke his chest, yelling ‘I told you so.’
My confidence vanished the moment she walked in, hand in hand with him. The floor slipped under my feet. My breath had hitched and I had fought to swallow the invisible lump in my throat. Arianna looked radiant.
She was pregnant. I heard Orlando talking later to the press. He had said she was pregnant. Arianna appeared happy. Nervous but content.
Her appearance had surprised me. Jet black hair with purple and blue highlights adorned her once blonde and then brunette hair. When I thought she looked radiant, she was practically glowing with polished cheeks. Did she gain weight? I couldn’t tell with her overcoat, covering most of her body.
When her gaze locked with us, she unconsciously cradled her belly and it was my turn to suck in a sharp breath. A diamond ring and a platinum band now occupied her otherwise bare finger. His furious gaze cut through mine and I had to avert my eyes. His words started to make sense, but the denial was strong.
Beside me, Alana had noticed the changes too. Everyone did. Their faces paled just as a thick lump formed in my throat. Releasing Alana’s hand from my grip, I eased back. A suffocating breath entered the expanse of my lungs and suddenly I felt like a tight grip choking me. I needed air. Before I could stand, the judge entered the courtroom and the trial had begun.
The size of the lump in my throat kept growing until I could no longer breathe with ease. Alana had gripped my hand, her hold, tightening as she leaned to whisper something. But the words went unheard. I couldn’t focus on anything, but the buzz in my ears.
“Mrs. Cortez is out of this case.” I heard the judge saying. A slight tremble had started in my hands and now I remembered. Arianna has a tattoo on her ass. A tattoo she didn’t want me to see or disliked talking about when we were together. And I remembered Arianna didn’t drink. Only if I had believed in her.
“She ruined it all,” Alana’s mother said, jerking me out of my thoughts. “That Cortez boy and her, they planned it. They did this.”
Or Alana did this. I didn’t say it out loud. I had no energy left in my body and mind. Their lawyer never took Alana’s name, not even once. They came in, provided proof that it wasn’t Arianna and left. They left without another look. I looked at Arianna before she exited the courtroom. She looked relieved and snuggled to his side.
“What tattoo were they talking about? I didn’t know about any tattoo?” My mother-in-
law cried. “People will now think it’s our daughter.”
And Arianna wasn’t your daughter? I wanted to ask. There were no words left to speak. I needed a drink. With shaky legs, I left the place, left the concrete prison they called home. My robotic-self climbed inside the car and I drove away.
Chapter – 27
Brian Schultz
The bar sat on the outskirts of the city limits. Though looked rundown on the outside, the inside looked like a posh club. Music blared, vibrating through the floor. Nicki Minaj and Drake’s voice drifted around me. But my mood was far from enjoying the beat.
The whiskey burned down my throat. I downed the glass, welcoming the familiar burn with wide arms and signaled the bartender for another round.
I gazed at the crowd that danced like headless chickens, swirling the amber poison the bartender delivered. Laughter bubbled in my throat. Is this how Alana partied? I pulled at the knot of my tie.
Nothing made sense. Alana was much more sophisticated while Arianna followed her heart. What went wrong? The cat was out of the bag. No more secrets. My heart knew Alana was the culprit all along. Only I struggled to comprehend the truth. The strong denial slowly lost its fight with the moment of truth as I downed the liquid.
Blaming Arianna was easier. I didn’t want to believe what happened in the court. Alana hadn’t uttered a word since we returned. How would she? Hatred and disgust washed over me. Do I even have the right to feel disgusted? I chugged down the alcohol that set my insides on fire and ordered another one.
When I closed my eyes, I saw both women in the eyes of my mind. Arianna had never allowed me to cross the limit when we dated. Hell, I never got past the first base, while Alana jumped into my bed on our third date.
Don’t read between the lines.
But… Am I? Another glass of whiskey disappeared into my system
“Enough, Brian. You had way too much drink for the night,” Chris, my only friend said.
“One more.” I slammed the glass on the bar, waving at the bartender.
“Brian.”
“Chris, let me drink tonight.” My words slurred, but it wasn’t enough. The alcohol hadn’t numbed me yet. I needed more.
“Let’s talk it out, Brian. Drinking doesn’t solve your problems.”
“It’s too late for the talk.” I laugh on his face. “Nothing can solve my problem!” I pushed at his chest. “I brought this on myself. Don’t you get it?”
Once the initial shock wore off and the reality had set in, I saw it for what it really was. I’d be a fool if I still thought it was her. Arianna didn’t drink. I knew that already, but I believed it now.
“Don’t be hard on yourself.”
With the shake of my head, I downed the whiskey, hissing at the burn.
“Enough!” He threw the money at the counter and took hold of my elbow. “We’ll talk later.”
“There’s nothing to talk. She’s the one.” Alana cheated on me. That bitch.
He dragged me out and to his car, pushing me inside and strapped me in. Anger and disgust clawed at my chest. I wanted to thrash everything in the vicinity. I clenched my jaw, hardly controlling the urge. The world around me blurred a little.
A giggle to my right caught my attention as he turned. Craning my head, I peered through the window to see a couple making out in the parking lot. Though I couldn’t see their faces from here, I saw the man grabbing her breasts as she moaned and arched her back. Their lips molded with each other. Chris walked around and climbed into the driver’s seat.
A delirious chuckle left me. I should avert my gaze, but with my drunken haze, I watched. That was quite a show. A car passed by and the headlights flashed on the couple. I blinked, rubbed a hand over my eyes. Then, another car passed, drenching the couple with its bright lights. My blood seemingly froze in my veins. Before Chris could stop me, I was out of the car in a flash.
“Alana!”
The woman clad in a skimpy dress whirled around, her eyes going wide. “Brian!”
“Get the fuck off!” The bastard she was making out with yelled and turned to her. Alana didn’t move.
“I knew it was you.” I closed the distance, pointing the accusing finger at her.
“Brian…” She swallowed, her throat moving up and down. I wanted to wring her pretty neck right then.
“You know him?” The bastard in the leather jacket and the thick tattoo on his neck got in the way again.
“I’m her husband. Get out of the way.”
“You’re married?” His gaze cut into her and she flinched.
“She is. Didn’t you watch today’s news, bro? She’s the infamous Alana Swanson.” Disgust replaced the sneer on my face.
“Brian,” Chris called, his voice rang with nervousness.
“Get her inside the car, Chris,” I said, not trusting myself around her. “Now!”
“Listen, I’m sorry, bro. Didn’t know she was taken.” The leather jacket guy raised his hands in a surrendering motion.
Ah, she was taken multiple times, all right. Without replying, I caught her elbow. Dragging her to the car, I urged her roughly to the back seat before climbing beside Chris; I slammed the door shut. “Go to the Swanson residence.” Behind us, she was silent. If she was nervous, her face didn’t show. The calm facade she always wore was back on her face.
I eased the phone out, dialing my parents. “Come to the Swanson residence. Now.”
“What happened?” Mom’s voice rang with concern. Funny. She rarely cared.
“Not now, mom. Be there in fifteen.”
“Brian?” Alana called from the back seat.
“Shh!” I pressed a finger to my lips, silencing her. She flinched and pressed herself to the seat. “Speak and I’ll gladly rip that fucking tongue off your mouth, you fucking slut.”
“Calm down, Brian.”
“You calm down!” I hissed at Chris. “What will you do if it’s your wife fucking someone?”
Chris’ grip tightened on the wheel to the point, his knuckles turned white. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” I scoffed. “Arianna was a gem I had in my hand. But I threw her away for this whore. I believed this bitch.”
The drive toward the Swanson residence felt longer. The effects of alcohol should’ve worn me out, but the adrenaline rushing through my veins kept me sober. When the car slowed down to a stop, I climbed out and dragged her inside by her elbow.
Our families were already there. Everyone gasped when I pushed her in front of them with a force that she fell on the floor.
“Alana?” It was her mother, Claire Swanson.
“Can’t believe it, can you?” I smirked. “This bitch has fooled everyone. Every single one in this household.” I laughed, mocking them. “Look at her clothes.” Bunching her hair in a tight hold, I pulled her up from the floor.
Her skimpy party outfit, killer stilettos, curled hair and blood-red lipstick was so unladylike in Swanson’s lifestyle. “Where did this outfit come from now, huh?” I pushed her back to the floor and the bitch stayed tight-lipped.
“What is this?” Henry’s face grew red. Disgust spilled from his gaze.
“This is your sweet little daughter, Alana, the angel of your house.”
“Brian!” It was from Claire again.
“What? You had no trouble calling your other daughter a slut. What changed now? Looks like this one was worse than the other.” Wait. What am I saying? How could I blame Arianna, even after finding the truth? She was innocent in all this. “No. That’s not true. Arianna did nothing wrong. She did everything.” I pointed at Alana.
Henry looked away in guilt. Footsteps clattered behind me and I turned to see my parents rushing inside with worried gazes.
“Brian, what’s going on?” Mom wore a coat over her nightdress, her usual straightened hair now framed her face in messy curls. It was so unlike her. Given the urgency of the situation, she’d have thought worse. But it was one of the rarest occasions she showed her uncaked face.
A
s I was taking in her disheveled look, her gaze flicked to Alana, who was still on the floor. “Oh, good lord. What happened here?” Dad wore his silk robes, looking like he would want to be anywhere but here.
“Brian!” I felt someone shaking me and looked to see mom had caught my shoulders. “Tell us what’s going on here? Why is she wearing that thing?”
I blinked and shook my head, clearing the haze of my brain. “Alana is the one on the photos. She fooled us.”
“What nonsense? She can’t. She—”
Realization dawned on her eyes—disbelief and shock, which slowly morphed to disgust and shame. Her throat worked up and down as she staggered a few steps back.
“Why aren’t you saying anything, mom?” I walked to them. “Dad, you were full of praises for your precious daughter-in-law; what happened now? Cat got your tongue.”
“Alana, why aren’t you saying something?” Claire rushed to her daughter, hands and lips trembling with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. A hope I’m about to crush with a tight fist. A task I would do with so much pleasure.
“Claire, you’re a fool if you still believe there is something good to your daughter.” My accusation rang loud and harsh, pouring out all the hurt and shame I felt. “You know where I found her?” I continued the taunt. “Outside a local club in the slums of Linnesse. I often go there when I want to get drunk.” A place where paparazzi would not think of looking twice for rich people. “And today I found her with a tattooed bastard, kissing and making out in the parking lot. His hands were on her ass, squeezing them.”
Oh, the joy that rushed to my chest when Claire’s knees gave out and the blood drained from the other spectator’s face.
“I wouldn’t have seen her if it wasn’t for the car passing by, flashing light on this bitch.” Chris stood silent. “Tell them, Chris, will you? Tell them what you saw there.”
“It’s true,” he said, shifting from one foot to the other. “We found her in a compromising position with a stranger.”
“Making out,” I corrected him. “His hands were on her boobs.”
My only friend since childhood, the best man at my wedding, my only pillar of support, the one who encouraged me to pursue Arianna, caught my arm. “Enough, Brian. You’ve done enough damage for the night,” he hissed.
Resisting Her (Moving On Duology Book 2) Page 22
