Thomas rolled to his side, wrapping a hard thigh over hers and keeping her facing him. "Frank embezzled millions from the company," he finally said, watching her eyes widen in horror. "He was allowed to retire and is now under supervision for..." he hesitated, "the foreseeable future."
"I'm so sorry. Oh, god."
It didn't occur to him that Lauren would be horrified, humiliated. "It's not your fault, you have nothing to apologize for. I made Frank offer recompense." This time, his wife was still. Thomas knew she understood. "He killed Meyers."
Lauren pressed her forehead into his chest and didn't say another word.
Clara and Michael's wedding was magnificent, of course, almost as spectacular as theirs had been. Thomas looked over at his wife, beautiful in silky layers of purple and blue that slid and moved along her thighs in a most distracting way.
Lauren took a sip of her champagne and smiled back at him. They'd never spoken again about that night. She didn't want to know anything about Frank or where he was. Her heart and her conscience twinged when a glowing Clara came up to hug her. "I'm finally Mrs. Michael Fassell," she giggled a little bit. "This is everything I've ever dreamt of."
Searching for the right thing to say, Lauren finally smiled and hugged her tightly. "May you always be as happy as you are today, sweetie."
Meanwhile in Lisbon, Portugal...
"Ei vovó, isso veio para você?"
Beatriz looked up from the bread she was kneading, smiling at her grandson, who was waving a manila envelope with official-looking stamps on it."O que isso seria?"Opening it and pulling out what looked like a deed and a cheque, the woman let out a shriek/gasp/laugh and read the paperwork, the check falling to the floor.
Picking it up, her grandson said,"Vovó, este é um cheque de quinhentos mil euros!"
Beatriz seized the cheque from the boy, shaking her head, beginning to laugh helplessly. Then unfolding the note attached, she read:
“Dear Mrs. Almeida:
I want to thank you for the care and protection you extended to my wife, Lauren Marsh, now Lauren Williams. You are an admirable woman and will always be in our thoughts. This is the deed to your house and funds to add to creating a comfortable retirement. And my eternal gratitude.
Best, Thomas Williams”
"Hey Grandma, this came for you?" Portuguese:"Ei vovó, isso veio para você?"
"O que isso seria?" - "What would this be?"
"Grandma this is a check for five hundred thousand Euros!" - "Vovó, este é um cheque de quinhentos mil euros!"
Chapter 30 – This Merits Correction
In which Lauren is punished.
It was, Lauren thought sourly as if the wedding for Clara and Number Three rang some starting bell that put them on a collision course with the Moscow Clusterfuck (as she called it to herself- strictly to herself) because her time with Thomas shrank accordingly. Some nights he returned grim; others perversely pleased. Either mood could spark a trip to the Fun Dungeon, though the grim mood was certainly less "fun." But those nights were still accompanied by a cascade of orgasms, albeit harder won.
The highlight of her day was when Thomas could run with her in the mornings, pacing his ridiculously long legs to match her stride. Her need for him was becoming worrisome to her. When he was late, the little voice began cycling in her head again, thinking of torture, dismemberment, capture- though this time she feared these things for her husband, even though he insisted on appearing bulletproof.
Even more uncomfortable was her time with Arabella and Clara. The new Mrs. Fassell brimming over with happiness and joy, and Arabella with a hatred so fierce towards her husband that she almost crackled with it when he walked into the room. Number One's wife hadn't said anything more about who to trust since their iPad conversation in her living room, but Lauren caught her eyeing all three of the men who ran Jaguar Holdings with the same look of loathing. It worried Lauren terribly that her friend seemed no longer able to hide her true emotions in the way she'd always had- under that veneer of sophistication.
"So you can see why it must be done," Thomas was saying and Lauren nodded without thinking.
"Of course," she agreed.
Her husband chuckled and she looked up, her cheeks already turning pink. "You haven't been paying attention darling," he teased gently. "I just suggested that you take a sledgehammer to your cello."
The girl gasped in horror, both at the image and the fact that she'd been so distracted in front of her sharp-eyed spouse. "I'm sorry," Lauren tried to smile, "I didn't mean to be such an airhead."
Thomas leaned back, one long finger absently rubbing over his lower lip as he watched her. "The question, darling," he said, "what is occupying you?" He continued to gaze at her as his wife's expressive face flushed and she shifted uncomfortably.
"I just..." with a sigh, Lauren gave in. She wasn't used to talking to her husband about her worries and fears, particularly because most of them were due to him. "I'm worried about Arabella," she confessed, "she has every reason to hate that bast- uh, Kingston." Thomas's eyes narrowed in amusement, but he said nothing, merely nodding at her to go on. "She doesn't seem to be able to control it, how she feels," Lauren tried to explain, "she so angry, and she should be! But..." The girl traced her fork through the crumbs on her plate. "I've never seen her not be able to keep it together, even when she's drunk. I'm worried she's going to snap and something terrible is going to happen." Lauren couldn't elaborate on what “something" would be, they both knew what that "something" would likely be. A quick execution and disappearance under the guise of Arabella "taking a long vacation" perhaps, or "retiring to the country." Staring down at the table, she swallowed miserably. She didn't even know what to ask Thomas to do. He'd made it clear he wouldn't interfere with that sick son of a bitch who was head of his precious Jaguar Holdings.
Thomas stirred; his beautiful face pensive. "I've known Arabella for over a decade, darling. Since her career in The Corporation brothel." He watched his wife's face as she simply nodded. He knew that she was aware of 'Bella's past. He admired her for not judging it. "This is the most serious mistake she's ever made. I do not know why she would make contact with Martinsson-"
