Beautiful Revenge (A Good Wife #1) - Sienna Blake Page 0,69
in a long time I have more ideas for future books than I have in a long time.
He blinks at me. “I can’t take your money.”
Oh God. He won’t let me out of my contract. “But, I—”
He holds up a hand, cutting me off. “I won’t take your money. But I will sign the divorce papers.”
My mouth pops open and shut as I struggle for words. “W-why?”
Edgar smiles. “It’s what I was going to tell you. I just agreed to a deal with an old business partner. I’m back in business, baby.”
I smile, then laugh, because sometimes life is magical. Sometimes wishes can be bought with the light of the stars. And dreams become more than mist and smoke.
We hug. “Congratulations, Edgar.”
“And to you too.”
I pull back. For a moment we stand awkwardly in front of each other, two ex-partners, amicably split. If only all relationships could end this well. I think about how things ended with Dimitri and me. My heart lets out a mewl.
“I was never a good husband,” Edgar says quietly.
“No, you weren’t,” I say truthfully, no malice in my voice. “But it’s not too late to be a good father.”
He nods.
He places the papers on the desk and signs at the bottom with a flourish. Then he hands them to me. “Happy divorce day, my dear.”
I clutch them in my trembling hands. “Thank you,” I whisper.
I am finally free.
66
____________
Alena
One month later…
The last time I was in London was when I first arrived in England from Russia. The city seemed so grey and dirty then, stains and black moss oozing down blocky stone buildings. As I gaze out the window of the car that my publisher sent for me, I wonder if it is at all the same city, vibrant and busy with shops and people clustering the busy “high streets” of each area. I don’t even mind the traffic. It gives me time to admire the gorgeous old buildings with elaborate stonework that pierce the skyline with domes and spires.
Emily is with me. We’re staying at the Fifty-Four, a boutique hotel set in an Edwardian townhouse in South Kensington, a ten-minute walk from my publisher’s offices. It’s also walking distance to Hyde Park, the Science Museum and the Natural History Museum. In between work, I have plans to explore all these places with Emily.
I leave Emily at the hotel and walk to my publisher’s office on Cromwell Street, where I’m due to meet my editor to go over the notes she’s given me for my first novel—my first novel!
The sun gleams down through the shady green trees along the wide sidewalks, passing the rows of grand white stucco buildings, imposing pillars guarding the steps to their doors. I spot three Mercedes and one Ferrari on this block alone. I slow down near where I think the office is and glance down at the address in my hand for confirmation that I’m here, when I bump into a hard chest.
I glance up, apologies on the tip of my tongue. I freeze and swallow these words at the man standing before me, his own eyes wide with surprise.
“Dimitri.” His name falls from my lips like a prayer.
Never in a million years did I expect to see him here.
He looks incredible. Same shock of wild dark hair, same strong chiselled jaw, same cobalt eyes that pierce straight into my soul. There’s something different about him. Something I can’t put my finger on.
“Alena.” His voice, as deep and soothing as always, rumbles through my body.
“What are you—?” we both say together.
“How are you?” we say again. A nervous laugh trills from me.
He smiles. “Ladies first, please.”
I pause for a second, just staring at him. Is he…being pleasant? But…he hates me. I left him. Even after I said that I wouldn’t.
It’s only when he raises an eyebrow at me that I realise he’s waiting for me to speak. “I’m here to meet with my editor,” I blurt out.
He nods. “Your upcoming book, of course. Congratulations.”
His smile seems so genuine that I can’t help my surprise. He knows about my book. Javier must have told him.
“And are you well?” He pauses, then asks, “Emily? Edgar?”
“We’re all well, thank you.” I want to tell him that Emily has moved on since their breakup. There’s a man at the café where she works whom she’s been seeing—not the love of her life, but a nice enough man. I want to tell him that I’m divorced now. That I still think of him.