Married to my Ex-wife's boss

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

David worried. What had happened to the charity event that was to hold on that tragic night?

That night where things had stood still, where he had to be made into a tiger and a sheep at once.

Why had it not been held?

Boredom pushed the thought to his tired brain, pulling all the strings it could for a near migraine to happen.

He was used to the ache now. It had always been there. His marriage had made certain of that.

Sandra was always there to give him one. But he had been happy to receive it. It meant that he was in love, that she was still part of his life.

He hated the stillness of not being by her side. So whenever he was on a mission which mostly happened around her, and he had no migraine, he would be sad.

But today, he was about to have a migraine. This one, wasn't something he was happy to receive. The web of love that had always stemmed from the pain wasn't as strong as before.

So he bore the pain it promised while blaming himself for his thoughtlessness that night. He had not given any thought to the strangeness; how much time they had taken in the room.

And how things had dissolved so quickly after Roseline had agreed to tie her company to Sandra.

He would call to ask. He thought, pulling his phone from his pocket. He let his back relax more on the hard but not-too-hard luxurious bed.

He dialled Roseline's call digit in seconds, his fingers working faster than his brain, this time.

Roseline on her own end didn't waste many seconds to reply.

“Hello, sweetheart,” her voice rang, sugary and gay. It wasn't unusual but it was suspicious.

What had she done this time? David wondered with a long inhale.

“Uhm….about that charity event that was to be held that night,” he paused to swallow some saliva, hoping he didn't have to describe that horrible night.

“Why didn't it hold?”

“Oh, darling,” her voice rose with sweetness as if she had been waiting for the question all along.

“It certainly held that night. You just weren't around to attend,” she chuckled softly, her voice still sweet, too sweet to be real.

He wondered why.

“Okay…”

“Well, you seemed very tired and you know, a bit not yourself and stuff like that,” he raised his eyebrow at the evasiveness.

What did that even mean? Yes, he might have left in a hurry. But she could've reached out to him to inform him about the party.

He had indicated interest to attend.

“I didn't want to disturb you,” she continued, speaking quickly. “You know, put you in the spot,” she giggled, stirring a note of irritation in him.

She was hiding something. He could somehow smell it.

“I hope you don't take it to heart,” her gaiety continued.

Then there was silence.

“About the mission, dear,” the sweetness vanished. “When do you intend to start?” He stiffened, his senses alert and ready to attack. Why was she asking that? It rang a bell. But he discarded it. It was nonsense

That incident had really dealt a blow to his mental health. He couldn't think as agent-like as he should.

“Did Sarah attend?” He turned the wheel, determination sprouting in his heart. He was going to gain insight to all these strangeness one way or the other.

“Attend what?” He read the fake ignorance in her voice with alarm and disgust.

What was going on with her? He brooded, this time recognizing a pint of what it meant from all other patterns he had had to discover.

But he swallowed the suspicion again, aiming to bring it out after the call for more brooding.

“The charity event,” he responded breathlessly with hot charcoal in his heart.“Was she there?” his throat burned with the possibility of everything. Had she invited her to the party and decided to humiliate her before everyone?

He was very curious. Did Roseline make Sandra walk naked in the party?

“Yes, she was at the party,” came the sharp reply. “We did a lot of things about the deal that night,” she said and fell into silence.

Their breathing echoed in the call. He shifted wearily.

“Okay. What about the guy she—”

“You know what?” She cut through, losing all of the sweetness in her voice. “Can we talk about this later? Maybe in person?”

And before David had the time to begin his response, she was already gone.

He remained with the phone in his ear. What had just played out?

I thought Roseline was in love with me? The strange thought pressed his mind. He couldn't comprehend the strange details.

As if suddenly shaken from a dream, he jumped out of the bed and rushed to his private office, nearly tripping at the doorpost.

The answer would be somewhere. He hurriedly imputed his fingerprint. The file with the mission had to be somewhere. It had to carry the answer. It had to throw more light to this chain of suspicion.

He barged into the room with the thought.

But then he stopped; scanned and searched his brain for its whereabouts.

Oh! Yes! He remembered, suddenly sighting the funny-looking suitcase where he had carelessly dropped it.

He cursed his carelessness and quickly imputed his agent code on the suitcase, praying that it had not been tampered with.

It snapped open.

It had not been tampered with. At least, it didn't look that way. Its red inner was as spotless as red could be.

It looked new and only harboured one brown envelope. He picked it and tore the opening impatiently, recalling the look on the president's face when he gave the mission.

It had just a document in it with sixteen tasks to be carried out.

The tasks all had long descriptions and points to note

But only one caught his attention. It had no description nor points to note.

It was only written in bold letters.

“KILL ROSELINE DENVER”.