The corners of her full lips twist downwards.
Her face moved? I guess she’s due for her Botox appointment.
“I can’t believe you downgraded from”—she waves a hand down the length of her body like she’s a game show hostess—“this.” She draws out the last word, like the idea I could find another woman more attractive than her disgusts her.
“You mean, Iupgraded. Choosing her over your cheating ass was an easy decision.”
“For someone who’s so concerned about how he’s presented in the press, I’m surprised you didn’t check her background before dating her.”
My brows shoot up. “Why would I do that? You’re the paranoid one. Not me.”
That smug expression on her face is annoying the fuck out of me.
“The way she’s bouncing from one hockey player to another is giving definite puck bunny vibes…”
My throat tightens.
“Reminds you of someone else you know? Oops”—Devlyn places a hand over her mouth—“I guess you don’t know your mother.”
The dig lands like a bomb.
I stick a finger in her face. “Shut your fucking mouth.”
She smirks.
“Stop being such a fucking bitch,” I say through gritted teeth. “I shared that about the woman who gave birth to me in confidence. How dare you share it with Chett?”
She hitches her chin up high. “I tell my son every?—”
“That was private. If I wanted your son to know, I would’vetold him myself. I’m a fucking adult. I don’t need you to talk on my behalf.”
A few passersby slow their step, taking in the train wreck.
I return my attention to the despicable woman I made the mistake of marrying. “If I hear one more person in your circle bring up the woman who abandoned me as an infant to me or anyone I know, I swear to God, Devlyn, I’ll make you regret it. You’re not the only one who knows how to hire PIs to dig up dirt on people, dear ex-wife. You’ve been so single minded in your pursuit to ensure your son lifts the Stanley Cup one day… but at what cost?”
Blotches of color spot her neck.
I’m onto something.“I’m willing to bet every penny to my name you’ve done a few underhanded things in your unwavering devotion to your son… things that would kill any chance Chett has of being part of a team of playoff champions. Things the media would love to get their hands on.”
She rears back as though I’d slapped her.
I pulled that one out of my hat, but I’m not surprised. “That’s what I thought.”
Her nostrils flare.
I tilt my chin up. “Cut the umbilical cord and kick the baby bird out of the nest, Devlyn. Makethatyour contribution to the world.” I straighten my jacket. “One last thing. Don’t you ever talk shit about my girlfriend again and stay out of my fucking business. You got that?”
She blinks.
“Answer the fucking question.”
“Yes.”
“Make sure you keep that promise, or I’ll rain hell all over you.” I turn on my heel and leave her sorry ass there, mouth hung open.
I step out of the Pompadour hotel, still fuming.
My phone chimes.
