her, I made her forget about him and smile again. She sang for me, danced for me, and I'm sure she felt it, too. How did an arsehole like Louis Bruel who probably fucked most of Manhattan find someone like her?
“Emily told me everything. I know she came to your father’s resort accidently because she was running away from something she thought she saw. I also know you were very chivalrous and offered her half your room, and that you tried to get your revenge on me by getting her drunk and putting her to sleep naked in your bed. Did I miss anything, William?” Yeah, you missed the part where she drank to forget about the pain you caused her and how sweet those lips tasted while I made her moan, I think to myself.
“You forgot many intimate morsels that I'm sure Emily didn't think were any of your bloody business.” Look at him—Louis is holding himself back. He really wants a piece of me. Come and get me, fucking oinker.
“Emily and I don't have secrets from each other. I'm here to tell you that it’s time to stop waiting and spying on my wife. Willy-boy, go home before I call your father and have him come get you. Go stalk a nice girl back in London.”
Funny, I haven’t spoken to my parents in months. After Isa's death, our family just crumbled thanks to him. Everybody does his or her own business and nobody speaks. I don't even think my parents knew I was engaged a few months back. I wonder if my parents even talk to each other anymore? I get my instructions from their assistants and everybody is peachy. Did she really send Louis here to tell me to leave? Did he tell her I was using her? I snort to myself, thinking that perhaps she actually believed me when I said nothing happened that night. That morning, she didn’t look like the confident woman that stripped for me the night before. She looked scared and embarrassed. I didn’t want to add to her hurt; she looked on the verge of another massive panic attack. When she questioned me about what we did, what was I supposed to say? That I kissed those lips all night, and that I touched every inch of her body? That I’d hoped in the morning she would wake up and ask me to make love to her? I couldn’t tell her that she was supposed to remember me kissing her and not moan out his name while I sucked her beautiful tits. I hate him so much, yet all I wanted that night was for my name to fucking be Louis. I have to talk to her; she can’t think I would try to hurt her. If I tell her what kind of a monster he is and what he's capable of, surely she won't want to stay with him.
“I'll leave once I speak to her,” I answer him. His eyes widen. The piece of rubbish is scared I'll tell her everything. “Louis, I'll only tell her a few stories from Isa's book.”
He’s up and in my face, breathing hard with veins popping out of his neck. “If that book…I swear to God, if it ever sees the light of day, it will cost you and your father every last penny you’ve got.”
I laugh before saying, “But it will cost you Emily. I'm willing to give up a few quid to make that happen.”
I don't have time to react before he has me on the floor. He puffs hard, frothing at the mouth, trying to choke me, and I'm laughing as I’m barely able to get him off of me. He’s maybe a little taller than me, but I’m younger and in way better form. I push him off me, he stumbles backwards on his arse and I shove him further down and straddle his chest. I now have him under me and I can see he’s battling to get me off. This fucker had a heart attack a month ago—this can’t be good for him. “I can kill you, old man. It would be a fitting homage to my sister and a present for Emily.” He has kids; I wouldn’t do that to them or Emily, as much as I’d love to. I’m not an animal like him. I want Emily to pick me, not by default, but by choice. It’s the reason I brought her back to him in