like this, Chelsea.”
Fucking asshole.
“I know” is all I say. I need to maintain some hostility while I transition us to where I want us; Joe will sense something’s up if I suddenly become sickly sweet to him.
I sag to the bed as the door clicks closed.
I still want to run away. Leave him far behind. Pretend none of this exists.
I can’t do that, though.
The feel of Mason between my legs keeps me going. Reminds me why I’m doing what I’m doing. One day, Joe won’t hold any power over either of us. I’m going to make damn sure of it.
I spend the morning going over the information Matthew emails me. I also research it all further, learning facts that aren’t in the documents he sent. I then spend time researching my husband and his business. I was so naïve when I married him, not seeing a need to learn all there was to know about him. Now, I’m going to the ends of the earth to dig everything up that I can find.
When Griff knocks on my door to collect me, I feel more prepared to face Joe than I’ve ever felt. It’s true what they say knowledge is power. The other thing that’s true? Nobody gives you power; you have to take it. And fuck, I’m taking it. Even if it takes me a long time, I’m fucking taking it.
Joe is all charisma and charm when I arrive for lunch. He’s invited about fifty men and their partners, so I slip into the role of the perfect wife to help him sell the story of his campaign. Because I’ve realised now, this isn’t my father’s campaign we’re running here—this is Joe’s campaign.
“Hello, darling,” I greet him with a kiss to his lips, a hand to his cheek, and a smile that screams love.
He actually looks pleased as his hand snakes around my waist and he kisses me back.
Matthew moves closer to us before Joe can say anything. “I trust you received that information,” he says. He looks at me like he thinks I’m nothing. He’ll regret underestimating me one day.
“I did, thank you, and I studied it all. I’m impressed by the figures on the mine and what it would contribute to our economy, but I have some questions that I think the public are going to want answered. I know I want them answered.”
Matthew’s eyes turn flinty. Cold. “You don’t need to concern yourself with that, Chelsea.”
Another fucking asshole.
I’m surrounded by them.
I catch sight of my father coming our way and smile at him. “Dad, is Dwayne Moss attending the lunch today?” It’s his mine we’re here to talk about after all.
He frowns, not used to me involving myself in any of this. “Not that I’m aware of.” He looks at Joe for confirmation.
Joe shakes his head. “No.”
“That’s a pity,” I say. “I think it would pay for us to talk with him about the need to do some work on his life-of-mine plan. I don’t believe he’s identified suitable future land uses with regard to community views. This is the kind of stuff that will help him get this development approved, don’t you think? Getting the community on board is important.”
Joe looks at me like he’s never seen me. Dad, too. Matthew just looks annoyed by me.
“Let’s discuss that some more later,” Joe says before glancing around the room. “For now, I need you to go and work your magic with the wives.”
“Of course you do,” I say, making sure to inject annoyance into my voice.
When his lips press together, I know I’ve achieved my goal.
I lean forward and kiss him. “Never fear, dear husband, I’ve got you covered.”
With that, I make my way to the first of the wives I need to schmooze, almost 100 percent certain my husband is watching me and wondering what the fuck is going on.
Score one to me today.
“I didn’t realise you knew about mine rehabilitation,” Joe says that night when we’re getting ready for the dinner we’re attending.
I look at him as he takes a sip of his scotch. He’s sitting in the armchair watching me while I fix my hair. He has the same look on his face he’s had every time I’ve caught sight of him this afternoon. It’s a mix of confusion, surprise, and curiosity.
Lunch was a huge success, and I know both Joe and Dad were more than happy with the way I worked the room. I mean, hell, even I was impressed with myself. It’s