My jaw dropped open in shock, and I swear my eyes bugged out. Cain wriggled his fingers for my phone, and silently I handed it over. Had he just said murder?
“Caitlyn, this is Cain Russell. What law firm are you from…? Indeed. Well, yesterday Mrs Kensington was in an accident, a hit and run. The car tracks to a carpool belonging to Eliganz, the company owned by Oliver Kensington…Yes, I will forward my details and the evidence. The police are also aware of the vehicle involved and are carrying out their own investigation. Thank you.”
Cain handed the phone back. “Hi Caitlin, okay, thanks. Speak soon. Give him a twenty-four-hour deadline, and then we file with the court,” I said weakly.
I cut the call and gazed at Cain. I was unsure whether to have a meltdown. Had Oliver tried to run me over?
“We need to talk,” Cain stated, face grim.
“Yes, we do,” I replied. What was next? An alien invasion? My husband of a decade had attempted to kill me. If there was ever a moment to cuss, this was it. Holy shit.
Chapter Seventeen.
Alicia
“Alicia! Hey, Alicia. Rosewood!” a voice called as I climbed out of the Uber the next morning. I’d booked a pedicure and manicure as a massage was out of the question, and I needed to relax somehow.
Oliver had tried to kill me.The thought crept back into my head. The shock was still settling in my system. Cain had been nice, but he couldn’t understand how deeply I’d been rocked. I’d known Oliver for years, since we were children, and he’d attempted to run me over. All for Eve’s precious pussy! How the hell had Oliver changed so drastically?
“Alicia!” the man called again, smiling as he approached. He was a stranger, but there was something familiar. On edge, I frowned. Did I know him? Was this one of Oliver’s acquaintances? Anyone approaching me would be met with a healthy dose of suspicion for the foreseeable future.
“Twelve, nearly thirteen years may have passed, but surely I’ve not changed that much?” he said, grinning at my puzzlement. Finally, I recognised that grin.
“Oh, Devon Harrison! What are you doing here?” I exclaimed.
Devon grinned and approached to offer me a hug before pausing. Keen eyes raked my bruising, and his lips tightened. “Shit, Alicia, what happened to your face?”
“You’ve not heard? Oliver apparently has now taken to committing attempted murder with a hit-and-run yesterday. Evidently, a divorce isn’t sufficient anymore,” I quipped lightly. My voice hid a maelstrom of emotions as I spoke the words. The nausea rose in my belly again, and I swallowed hard. That sick feeling belonged to Oliver and his heinous actions.
“What the fuck?” Devon exclaimed. He stepped back and grasped my upper arms, studying my bruises carefully. “Oliver did that?”
I tried not to wince as his hands dug into a bruise. “Well, I can’t say for sure. Devon, it’s a long story. Anyway, what are you doing here?”
“I just bought out the company Zade, a group of fashion retail stores. They were previously ranked number one, but Eliganz knocked Zade off the top spot. Obviously, you’re aware of that, being married to Oliver. Since then, Zade spiralled, and I closed the deal a month ago. Luckily, some silent investors also took an interest. I’m in town to start making changes. I’m the majority shareholder, and the agreement is I can buy them out when I turn things around for Zade,” he replied.
“Wow, that’s amazing,” I said, happy for him. We’d been close once, but lost contact when I went to college.
“It’s going to be hard work. I’m looking for new designers—someone exciting like Mystique.”
“Not Mystique herself?” I asked teasingly.
“Oliver’s got that genius tied up. Mystique won’t walk from Eliganz. Rumour is, Mystique’s real identity is his PA, Eve Kyle.”
“What?” I gasped, horrified and amused simultaneously. “Devon, I can assure you, Eve is not Mystique. That whore has no taste.”
“Wow, Alicia. I guess you don’t like Eve.”
“Not when Eve’s openly Oliver’s mistress!”
Devon looked aghast. “And I just put my big foot right in it.”
“No, not at all. Look, I’ve got an appointment. Why don’t we meet at five for dinner and drinks? We can catch up,” I offered.
“Can we make it six?”
“Sure, at Silken Maison?” I suggested. Silken Maison was the second top restaurant in town, whereas Samuel’s ranked number one. For some reason, I didn’t want to share that with anyone but Cain.
“Yeah, I’ll book reservations. Let’s swap numbers, just in case something pops up,” Devon asked.
