The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,269

take this article out of circulation. This was published at midnight in France.” He checks the time on his wristwatch and purses his lips, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “It’s only 2am there, now. One phone call, and I can make it go away. I will spare you the humiliation of your children knowing what kind of woman you are. Just tell me who he is. Then, it will only be his life I burn to the ground.”

Disgust cuts through my apprehension and I find my voice. “You would use our children as pawns?”

His eyes narrow in condescending pity, “But, that is exactly what they are, Regan. The prenuptial agreement we signed saw to that.”

“I will fight you, Marcel” I vow. That document is more than ten years old and if I’ve learned anything from my brother, is that there is no such thing as an unbreakable contact.

He shrugs. “And I’ll win. That picture, whether the publication removes it or not, means I hold all the cards. Tell me his name and all you will lose is what you have already forfeited – custody of the children.”

“My face isn’t showing, you can’t prove it’s me.” I grasp at straws.

“Will your brother perjure himself and risk his law license to help you prove that in court? Because that’s where this is headed if you fight me.”

I can see the picture in my mind as clearly as if I was still looking at it. Our faces aren’t showing. Yet, the glint of my gold body chain, the riot of dark curly hair that cascades down my back are distinctive but combined with the tattoo that adorns my lower back, it might as well be DNA evidence.

But, there’s no way to prove that's Stone’s hand cupping my bottom. My chest aches at the thought of him. And what being embroiled in this could mean for the career he’s worked so hard for. I won’t let that happen.

I just don’t understand how this picture that was on my personal cell phone got into the hands of a newspaper in France. One Marcel claims he has the power to command.

I grasp at that thread of suspicion like it’s a lifeline and use it to pull my head above the surface of guilt and terror I’m drowning in. “How did they get that picture? I don’t understand,” I make my voice sorrowful, keep my head bowed, but keep a surreptitious eye on him through the veil of my lashes.

His smug smile falters, and his eyes dart over my shoulder. But he regains his composure so quickly I’m not sure it wasn't just wishful thinking.” Maybe your lover handed it over to make a pretty penny,” he sneers.

My head snaps up, and I scoff loudly; dismissing his statement for the conjecture it is. “He doesn’t—”

“He what?” Marcel’s keen eyes narrow and I curse my near slip up.

“Nothing. He is no one,” I lie.

“And that’s exactly what I will tell your children. That you threw their family away for no one.”

I blanche at the malicious glee in his voice. That he would relish hurting our children fills me with a crushing despair, so heavy that I can’t bear it and my own weight. I sit on the small dark leather trunk at the foot of my bed, drop my face into my hands and I search my disordered mind for a way to stop this. To keep them safe, with me and ignorant of their parents’ failings.

“Time is ticking, Regan,” Marcel taunts.

I lift my head to glare at him. “We haven’t lived together for five years. A quiet, straight forward divorce would have barely made a ripple. Their lives wouldn’t have changed at all. But this…you are taking them to Paris in the middle of the school year?”

He snorts a derisive laugh. “They’re lives will not be disrupted. I will continue residing in Paris and will make more frequent trips to see them. And when school is over, they will come to me.”

Incredulity slackens my jaw and widens my eyes. I gaze over at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. the children can’t stay here alone.”

“Hanna is moving in.”

I shoot to my feet, my fear and despair burned away by a surge of primordial rage.

“You wouldn’t.” I growl.

He swallows thickly, his eyes dart away from my brimstone gaze. He tugs the cuffs of his shirt, collects himself and looks back at me, the challenge back in his beady eyes. “The children know her and like her. You are the only one