Unfaithful (The Complete Trilogy)

by Clancy, Joanne

  “I love you,” he whispered, looking imploringly into her eyes.

  “I want you back. I want us to be a family again; you, me, Chris and the baby. Please, Rebecca, won't you give me one last chance.”

  He held her hand tightly. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand gently.

  “Well, I have been considering our situation carefully,” she said slowly, “and I've been thinking that maybe we should try again.”

  “Really?” Mark exclaimed, almost knocking his full wine glass all over the table. “Really, you think there might still be hope for us?”

  “Maybe,” Rebecca said, not able to meet his eyes. She took another long sip of her water. “However, there will have to be some conditions.”

  “Oh, darling, anything, I'll do anything, you name it. All you have to do is tell me and I'll do whatever you want to make it work. I know I've let you down terribly.”

  “That's an understatement,” Rebecca couldn't restrain herself. Mark looked at her anxiously and Rebecca coughed in an effort to cover her words.

  “Do you still love me?” Mark asked, still holding her hand tightly.

  “Yes, I still love you, Mark,” Rebecca replied honestly.

  She did love him and knew that a part of her always would love him. He had been such a big part of her life for so long, that she knew that she would never be able to erase him completely from her heart and her mind.

  Mark's face lit up and he beamed at her. His handsome face was transformed. All the stress and tension seemed to leave him and the knotted frown between his eyebrows slowly faded away.

  “If you still love me and I know that I still love you then there's hope for us,” he said, “I know we can do this, Rebecca, I know it. I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy. This calls for a celebration.”

  He beckoned the waiter and ordered a bottle of Champagne. Rebecca groaned inwardly. She didn't want him getting too inebriated, not before she'd gotten what she wanted from him anyway.

  “There are conditions to our reunion, Mark,” Rebecca repeated her earlier words.

  “Anything you want, darling, anything you want, just tell me. Your wish is my command.”

  He was starting to slur his words slightly and Rebecca knew that she had to hurry up before he was completely incoherent. She opened her handbag and carefully withdrew her paperwork.

  “I need you to sign these papers, Mark,” she said, looking at him directly.

  She unfolded the documents and passed them to Mark.

  “Oh, Rebecca, do we really need to be bothered with paperwork at a time like this?” Mark asked, refilling his Champagne glass.

  “Yes, Mark, it's important to me, important to us, for our new beginning,” Rebecca insisted. “You know how much I hate paperwork, darling, you've always handled that side of things. What's it about anyway? Can't you just sign it for me like you always do?”

  “No, Mark, these papers need your signature. It's just some paperwork for the business that I need to get out of the way before we can start fresh."

  Mark looked at her then and smiled.

  “Of course, darling, I'll sign them, just show me where.”

  Rebecca turned the pages to the last section and pointed to the area where Mark needed to sign. “Right there, darling,” she said, handing him a pen.

  Mark took the pen and signed his name and the date without bothering to read any further. Rebecca held her breath, hoping and praying that he wouldn't want to read the documents. He handed her back the paperwork with a flourish and smiled indulgently at her.

  “What would I do without you?” he asked.

  “I honestly don't know, darling,” she returned his beaming smile, “more Champagne?”

  She reached out and refilled his glass. Then she took his face in her hands and kissed him long and slow full on the mouth.

  There was a rustling behind him, but he hardly noticed it as he lost himself in kissing his wife.

  “I missed you,” he said, looking deep into her eyes, his eyes dark with lust.

  Rebecca pulled away from him suddenly, and started checking the paperwork again, just as two women passed their table. Mark thought he recognised Shona's tumble of curly blonde hair, but instantly dismissed the thought from his mind.

  “I've had too much to drink,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

  Rebecca stood up and handed the documents to a short, stocky man in a dark suit who immediately deposited the papers in his leather briefcase.

  “What's going on here?” Mark asked, looking in bewilderment at his wife. “Who is that man?”

  “I've had enough of you, Mark McNamara,” Rebecca hissed, ignoring his question. “It's over.” “Rebecca, please,” Mark stuttered, but she walked away from him, leaving him sitting there alone.

  “Rebecca, wait!” he got up but stumbled, sending the Champagne bottle crashing to the floor. He lost sight of Rebecca in the commotion and she was long gone by the time he made his way out to the foyer.

  He tried calling her mobile phone but she didn't answer. It went straight to voicemail. He went into the bar and ordered a whiskey. He knew he'd had far too much to drink and was beyond thinking straight.

  “I'll deal with her in the morning,” he decided as he ordered a taxi back to the flat which he now called home.

  Chapter 38

  Mark sat bolt upright in bed. “Where the hell am I?” he said aloud, forgetting where he was for a minute. “Ow, ow, ow!” he moaned, clutching his head which was throbbing from the huge hangover that was beginning to throb incessantly.

  His mouth was parched dry from too much alcohol the night before. He flung back the duvet and forced himself into a sitting position at the edge of the bed. What time is it? He wondered, suddenly noticing the bright sunlight piercing through his thin, unlined curtains. He reached out for his mobile phone. It was quarter past eleven. He checked his phone to see if Rebecca had left any messages for him. There was nothing in his inbox. He tried calling her, still no answer. He vaguely recollected the events of the previous night. He felt quite confused as he couldn't quite remember clearly what had happened.

  “Answer your bloody phone, woman!” he yelled at his mobile, before shuffling towards his kitchen area and boiling the kettle for some strong black coffee. He knew he needed to clear his fuddled mind and fast. He looked around his pathetic little flat and sighed. His flat comprised of one large room, which housed his kitchen, living and dining areas. He had a tiny bedroom where he slept in a narrow single bed and an even smaller bathroom where he could barely turn around.

  He sighed deeply when he thought about the huge, beautiful house that was Cois Farraige. You stupid, stupid man, he thought miserably. How could you have done this to yourself? No woman is worth losing everything and being reduced to this lowly existence. He poured two large spoons of coffee into a big mug and drank deeply. He tried to recall the events of the previous night.

  All he could remember was that Rebecca had seemed to want to make a go of their marriage again and then she'd asked him to sign some paperwork for the business. He had no memory of what happened after that, as much as he tried to force himself to remember. He decided to clean himself up and go to visit his wife at Cois Farraige.

  Mark jumped into his Audi and sped down the coast road towards Cois Farraige. He'd texted Rebecca to let her know that he was on his way, but she still wasn't responding or answering her phone. She must be tired, he thought, trying to dismiss the slightly uneasy feeling that was beginning to take hold deep inside him. He was getting peculiar flashbacks from his dinner with Rebecca the previous night.

  He had one memory of her leaning in close to him and kissing him deeply and another memory of her leaving their table saying that it was over. I must be getting mixed up, he tried to convince himself. I really need to start cutting back on my drinking.

  He sped down the road, a feeling of dread increasing its grip on his heart the closer he got to Cois Farraige. He shook himself in an effort to dis
miss the negative thoughts from his mind.

  He pulled into the drive of Cois Farraige just as a large removal truck was pulling out. His sense of panic and fear began to increase. His car came to a screeching halt directly outside his front door.

  He jumped out, locking the car doors automatically behind him. He quickened his pace as he made his way towards the big red front door. He was trying to gather his wits together, but at the same time his feeling of dread was beginning to engulf him. He fumbled about in his pockets for the front door key and tried the key in the lock. The key wouldn't turn in the lock, in spite of his numerous efforts.

  He went to the window and peered inside. There weren’t any curtains hanging and he could see that the place was bare of any furniture. He began to panic. His heart was pounding in his chest. He ran back to the front door and tried his key again. Suddenly he noticed a piece of paper pinned to the door. He ripped it from the door and began to read frantically. It was from Rebecca.

  Dear Mark,

  I'm leaving you forever. There is no hope whatsoever of a reconciliation, so don't even think about it. By the way, thanks so much for signing the paperwork last night. You willingly signed the house and the business over to me. You are now the proud owner of absolutely nothing.

  Unfaithfully Yours,

  Rebecca

  Revenge

  The second book in The Unfaithful Series

  By Joanne Clancy

  Chapter 1

  "I want them dead," Mark typed furiously, his speed matched only by his seething anger. He paused for a moment to take another long swig of the whiskey which he'd been drinking all afternoon and slammed the glass down before continuing. "My wife has ripped me off for everything I own and she refuses to see sense. I want her and her new best friends killed. They conspired against me. Killing them is the only way I have out of the mess they've caused me. They’ve ruined my life."

  "We can arrange anything, for the right price," the email pinged in reply almost immediately. "We'll need more information on the targets."

  "Money is no problem," Mark wrote in reply. "There are three marks. I'm not comfortable giving you their names just yet, but I can give you their general location and tell you what I would ideally like to happen. The women live in Ireland, not far from the capital city, Dublin. They're involved in business together, MY business. One of the targets is my wife, soon to be ex-wife, if she has her way.

  We have a holiday home in France and she's been spending a lot of time there since the baby arrived. Her location would depend upon when the hit could be carried out. My wife's not particularly fit or strong at the moment. She had a baby earlier this year and there were some complications during the birth. Her health hasn't been the best since the baby arrived; she's been suffering from post-natal depression. She's in her forties and of medium build. I would prefer if you could make her death look like suicide. It wouldn’t be too surprising given her fragile mental health."

  "We are an international organisation and have people in Ireland and France. It may take a day or two to contact them and confirm the details, but that's my problem, not yours. Tell me more about the other marks," the instant message popped up on Mark's computer screen.

  "The other two are friends; one is petite, aged in her mid-twenties and the other is tall and very slim in her early thirties. The two friends share an apartment together in a large, gated complex, not far from the city centre. They work in the same place, as I've already mentioned, and they spend most of their time together outside work. It's absolutely imperative that their deaths don't in any way look like a planned hit. I can't emphasise this requirement enough. It has to seem like an accident, perhaps when they're travelling in a car together? I'm open to any ideas or suggestions.

  I have some questions which I need answered before we proceed. How soon could they be killed? Would it be days, weeks or months? When the hit on the two younger women is completed in Ireland would it be possible for the second job to be finished within twenty four hours in France? How much would it cost and would I be required to pay a deposit ahead of time? I'm only asking because it would be easy for me to access the money immediately after the hits, but it might be more difficult beforehand. Can the hits be done in the way I've suggested, without causing any suspicion? If a deposit is required, what assurance do I have that you won't disappear with the money without finishing the job? It's not like I would be able to file a complaint with the police! Where are you located? Obviously, I didn't expect to find an address on your website.

  Maybe we could email each other for now? I'm not comfortable talking about this on the phone. I'll be busy with work for the next few days but I should have a chance to check my emails periodically."

  "I agree with you about talking over the phone. It would also be advisable to delete any emails that you receive from me. I will email you within the next few days with the answers to your questions," and with that "assassin_hire" signed off.

  Chapter 2

  Date: Saturday, 2 April 2011, 10.15pm

  From: assassin_hire

  To: devils-revenge

  Mark,

  I have discussed your situation with my colleagues and we agree that it may be better to finish the two younger females first and then, after a cooling off period, we will kill the third female. Let me know who is the most beneficial to you and we can target them first.

  Our price per target is usually eighty thousand pounds sterling, but we are willing to make a deal with you for one hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling for all three hits. We will need a deposit of seventy five thousand pounds before we can go any further. You can send the money to us via Western Union money transfer or you can deposit the money directly to our bank account, whichever is easier for you.

  If you agree with our figures then we can complete the first hit by the end of April. Let us know who you would like us to target first; the two younger females or the older woman. When we receive your money we will proceed and take care of everything. If we fail, or can't do the job, you will get your money back. However, your deposit is non-refundable if you cancel. I hope I have answered your questions. If you need anything else, please let me know.

  Thank you,

  Savannah

  Date: Wednesday, 20 April 2011, 6.45am

  From: devils-revenge

  To: assassin_hire

  Hi Savannah,

  Great name, by the way! I've just read your email, my apologies for the delay in responding to you. I've been away and I haven't had access to the internet. I'm assuming that at this late stage you probably won't be able to get the job done by the end of April.

  You must think that I'm a terrible person but I assure you that I've been left with no choice. I would prefer that my wife was the only target but because of the way she has arranged her business affairs, it would be too complicated if the other two women were still around. I would still be in the same situation as I am now if I left them alive.

  The price you quoted seems reasonable and I am happy to pay it. However, I will need to give some consideration as to how I can get the money for the deposit. I have access to the cash but my wife would see that it's gone and would immediately know that it was me which would cause too many problems. I'll have to try to borrow the money but that will take some time. I hope I will be able to get the loan but with very few assets remaining in my name to borrow against I don't know if I'll get the loan from the bank. I'll certainly give it a go.

  I'll need some time to look into sending you a cheque or banker's draft. My wife is meticulous about record-keeping. She keeps notes of every transaction over a certain amount. I can't quite remember if it's six thousand or ten thousand euro, but even so, I'm quite sure that I could send a few drafts. I'd be worried about what might happen later, when this is over; the police might get suspicious about the transactions and I wouldn't have the answers. Do you think it would be a good idea to send the cash via courier instead?

  You mentioned in your last em
ail that it would be advisable to leave a cooling off period between the first two hits and my wife's hit. What time frame were you thinking? Let me tell you about my idea, if I may. My wife is currently in France. Her apartment is on the top floor of a large complex. If she were to hear that her business partners and friends were victims of a fatal accident she might suddenly feel suicidal and jump off the building, especially given her recent fragile state. I know she's been seeing a psychiatrist. Do you think my idea is too preposterous?

  The problem is that my wife would find out about the missing money, if I tried using that for the deposit. The bank is the only chance I have of getting your money but my wife would find out about it as she knows the bank manager personally. She's quite friendly with him and they talk a lot. Dublin may be a capital city but it's a small place really. Everyone knows everyone else. They say there are six degrees of separation between most people, well, in Ireland there are probably only two degrees! You'd have to live here to understand.

  I'll be away on family business until next week. My wife is putting me under pressure to spend time with my son and I must try to keep her happy until I figure out how to proceed.

  You quoted me in pounds sterling so I'm assuming that my deposit will be going to the United Kingdom and that you will sort out the money for the people involved in the hit. I was wondering because it would be easier for me to send the money to a specific location to be collected after each job is completed. This would make it uncomplicated for me and I could go ahead with the money transfer immediately.

  I would be grateful if you would let me know if it's possible for it to look like an accident and not a hit.

  I hope to hear from you soon.

  Mark