“The rest?” Zayn’s voice is soft and calm, cutting through the red haze of my vision. It drips with violence; I can feel it reverberating off him. “The rest ofwhat?”
Fuck.
Daniel shoots me a warning glare. We were always so fucking good at hiding what went on behind closed doors, like some unspoken agreement between us, but I find myself not wanting to hide anything from Zayn anymore. I don’t want any agreements with Daniel, especially when it involves hiding my suffering at his hands. I’ve done too much of that.
“Daniel knows what I’m talking about,” I spit at him. “Are you sure you want mebaring my soulto a marriage counsellor? Could land you in the middle of another lawsuit.”
“This is getting a bit out of hand,” Daniel’s lawyer pipes up, placing his hands palm up on the table in a gesture of good faith. He’s obviously concerned about ‘the rest’ that his client hasn’t filled him in on. “Let’s sort this out amicably, Zayn.”
Daniel’s head snaps up the second he hears the name. His eyes narrow dangerously on Zayn as he roams his face the same way you’d inspect a crime scene, and then in what seems like slow motion, his face morphs into a scowl the second realisation hits.
“Zayn?Zayn Romero? You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he spits incredulously, his eyes flicking between us. “I should have known something was off when I was told thebest divorce lawyer in Melbourne was representing my wife for free.”
For free? Wait, what?
“Don’t tell me you two are fucking?” He gestures between us both. “This is too rich!” Daniel’s handsome face is twisted with fury now. “Howdareyou touch my wife!”
Completely opposite to Daniel’s red hot anger, Zayn’s own fury is quietly lethal. It leaves a chill on my skin when I glimpse his impassive face, the way his gaze penetrates Daniel like a silent dagger, deadly and devastating.
“She won’t be your wife for much longer if I have anything to do with it.”
Any pretence Daniel was trying to maintain is obliterated when he slams his fists down on the table. I jump back, my hand flying to my throat.
“I’ll never let her go, you fucking asshole. She’s mine.”
“I suggest you stop talking now,” the older lawyer advises his client brusquely, but Daniel doesn’t heed the advice.
“Well,” he says, and a humourless grin starts to spread across his face. I know the look well, and I brace myself as he reaches down into a bag and pulls out what looks like a stack of photographs. He smacks them down onto the table in front of Zayn and I. My heart jumps into my throat as I inspect them. “Looks like I have more competition than I thought.”
I stare at the pictures taken of Brett and me outside my apartment building from Friday night. It looks like Brett’s embracing me in a passionate kiss, butIknow it was a drunken mistake on his behalf that was completely unreciprocated.
Zayn doesn’t know this.
I feel him tense beside me. I pull my gaze away from thepictures to find Zayn’s face. His jaw ticks relentlessly, but that’s all he gives away. His eyes are glued to the pictures.
“I knew you were fucking lying to me all those years ago,” Daniel seethes at me, but I can’t bring myself to care about him. Zayn is still staring at the pictures. “There was something going on between you and Brett, and now I have proof.”
He spreads the images out. There are ten in total. None showing me push Brett away, might I add.
The pictures look bad. I should have told Zayn about the kiss, and now he’s finding out about it from Daniel, of all people. My hands shake under the table, but I don’t want to have this conversation with an audience.
Useless. Dumb. Nothing.
Daniel’s words slam back into me with a dizzying force.
“I can add stalking to the list of your crimes against me, can I?” I ask Daniel as fury ignites inside me like kerosene being thrown a naked flame. I try to grab a hold of the anger. It’s more comforting than the cold terror I feel at Zayn finding out about Brett this way.
“It’s called a PI, darling. Perfectlylegalto hire one.”
My stomach hollows out and I get the same feeling I did after discovering Daniel had been inside my apartment. Vulnerable and violated. How fucking dare he have me followed?
“These photographs have nothing to do with the divorce proceedings,” Zayn says coldly, finding his composure. “Nothing has changed here.”
“Hasn’t it?” Daniel looks deranged as his eyes dart between us. “Looks to me like these photographs have changed a lot. Maybe you’ll return my wife to me now and this can all go away.”
Zayn’s fists clench and unclench under the table.
“Next time you refer to Gianna as an object to be passed around I will make life very unpleasant for you. Neither you nor I tell Gianna where she will be going and it will do you well to remember that.”
