Ate out, she told me.
But something started nagging at me. She seemed almost euphoric after these trips. And then there was the fact that she kept going back to the same places.
I couldn’t bring myself to forget how it was these little outings started. I caught her spying on me, and she blamed it on boredom.
I knew she’d been looking around, of course, but what if I wasn’t as careful as I thought? What if she found something important I forgot to hide away?
Was it possible she was meeting someone armed with information on me and my family?
And if so, I started to fear what it could mean for our organization. If somehow, one wrong detail reached her father, there would be consequences I couldn’t even think to imagine without feeling sick.
I trusted my bodyguards, but I also knew how resourceful Alisa could be when she put her mind to something.
It wasn’t just suspicion driving me. It was also fascination. In my heart, I knew Alisa had an adventurous spirit. Even four years ago, when she was just twenty, she used to bring flair to every single day. Some mornings, she used to drag me along for Puppy Yoga. Other weekends, pottery classes.
I missed that version of her. More than I wanted to admit. Somewhere in my heart, I wanted to know what drove her now.
And one Sunday morning, when I had time on my hands, I didn’t think twice before jumping in my car and following hers.
I tagged Alisa’s car discreetly from a safe distance. My curiosity was piqued as I watched her get out with her bodyguard near a boutique and make her way in.
I parked across the street and watched through the window. She walked past racks of clothes, her fingers feeling the fabrics. She smiled at all the assistants and laughed with them, too.
In her eyes, I saw genuine kindness. When I compared her to the other women shopping, she seemed like the most real thing in there.
I saw her shortlist some dresses, and when the assistant grabbed them for her, Alisa fought to take them back herself.
God, she was so fucking friendly. So fucking perfect.
The assistant showed her out back, and I waited. I knew what I was doing was wrong. Felt wrong, for sure. But it was simple curiosity, I told myself. Besides, I needed to make sure she wasn’t tipping someone off, right?
I waited breathlessly, part wondering and part hoping that she’d exit in one of those pretty dresses. Just to get someone’s opinion.
But five minutes turned to ten, which turned to twenty, and my anxiety started peaking.
She didn’t have that many clothes with her, did she?
Concern prickled along my spine. Something wasn’t right.
Without thinking, I jumped out of the car and strode into the boutique, waving off her bodyguard, who looked like he had questions.
I walked toward the changing rooms.
“Excuse me, Sir?” one of the assistants stopped me. “Can I help you?”
“My wife’s taking too long. Alisa?” I huffed.
“Oh, of course!” Her eyes widened, and something told me Alisa had given them more than their fair share of business. She pointed to a door out back. “Right that way, Sir. You may go in. There’s no one in there but her.”
I nodded my thanks and made way to the door.
“Alisa?” I called out. “Everything okay?”
When she didn’t answer, I pushed open the dressing room door without thinking and froze.
She had her back to me, wearing nothing but a black lace bra and matching panties. She whirled around at the sound of the door with wide eyes, her hair tumbling down her shoulders.
“What the hell?”
