I shake my head in disbelief. “You selfish bastard. How dare you blame me for being a good and loyal wife to you?”
He opens his mouth to argue and I raise my hand. “I don’t want your money. You earned it. You want to blow it all away. Go ahead, but we were supposed to have a baby next year.”
He starts as if he has completely forgotten that we’ve earmarked next year as the time we start our family. As if he doesn’t know that I’ve already began to paint the little bedroom next to ours yellow.
“I gave up my independence because you said I’d want for nothing. You promised we could start a family next year. How could you do this to me?” I shout.
“I’m sorry, Star, I never meant to hurt you.”
“Well, you have, Nigel. You’ve stuck a knife in my heart.”
“Hell, Star. I know I messed up bad, but I’m trying to be straight with you now. You’re right, I was a selfish bastard. You’re too good for me. I know, I don’t deserve you, but please. I don’t want to argue with you. I don’t blame you at all. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to tell you everything. No more lies. No more secrets. Please, Star. Everyone deserves a second chance.”
I try to rein in my growing anger. Instead of recriminations I should be trying to help. We need to talk. To work this out. This is bigger than my hurt or anger. “Okay, let’s talk.”
“You have no idea how fucking sorry I am. I wanted to just end it all last night.”
I take a deep breath. The shock of his words makes me feel almost light-headed. He actually thought about ending it all. Leaving me here to carry on without him. I look at him with new eyes. In a few minutes, my whole world has been turned inside out, everything I believed has been proved to be lies.
He looks back at me sadly. “But I knew that I would only be leaving you in a bigger mess because the money has to be paid back. One way or another.”
“Who do you owe the money to, Nigel?” My voice sounds distant, calm, rational, even though I feel as if we are standing at the roof edge of a sky-scraper in high winds.
He pauses and clasps his hands so tightly, his knuckles become white. When he speaks, there is an odd expression in his eyes. “Nikolai Smirnov.”
My brow furrows. “Who is he?”
His eyes narrow. “You don’t know him?”
“Why would I know him?” I ask, confused.
His mouth turns down at the corners. It’s a strangely sulky expression, and my brain notes it with surprise.
“You tell me,” he says.
“Stop playing games, Nigel. What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, barely holding onto my temper.
“Maybe you know him by a different name? Russian, tall, at least six feet three or four. Broad, very fit—”
I shake my head impatiently and interrupt him. “I don’t meet men. You know that. Why would you think I would know him, anyway?”
He makes a dismissive movement with his head. “Forget it. He’s the owner of the gambling club I was telling you about before. I’ve met cold bastards before, but he fucking takes the cake.”
My eyes widen. “Did he threaten you?”
His voice is bitter and a touch frightened “Yes, he wants his money. I told him I’d get it somehow. I just needed a bit of time, but he had his men grab me and hold me down on a smelly pool table. You don’t know how terrified I was. He came close to breaking my hands with a fucking hammer.”
At that strange, surreal moment, I feel no love in my heart for my husband. He seems like a stranger. Someone I never knew. Someone who just smashed my wonderful life into a thousand pieces. “Why didn’t he, then?”
He looks down at the table and his hands become fists. “Because …”
That coldness in my heart grows. “Because what, Nigel?”
Tears crawl down his cheeks. “Because he wants you.”
Chapter Six
Star
His words don’t make sense. My whole body feels like it is on fire. I’m an ordinary girl. I live an ordinary life. All of this is unbelievable stuff. Stuff of gangster movies.
“What?”
“He wants you,” he repeats glumly.
“Me? What do you mean me?”
He covers his face. “Fuck, Star. Do I have to spell it out to you? He wants you … your body.”
I frown. “My body? Why would the owner of a gambling club want my body?”
“You don’t need me to tell you why.”
“But he doesn’t know who I am. I could be a frumpy, middle-aged housewife for all he knows.”
His brow furrows. “I’m beginning to think that someone is jealous of me. They know that the most important thing in my life is you, and the best way to destroy me is to get to you.”
Nigel goes on talking, but I stop hearing him.
“He didn’t use the hammer because you agreed to let him have me, didn’t you?” I ask, my body crawling with revulsion.
“No,” he denies, looking at me with wide eyes, and shaking his head vigorously.
“Oh, my God. You damn coward. That’s what last night was all about, wasn’t it? You thought you could manipulate me into selling my body to pay off your gambling debts.”
Suddenly, the light goes out of his eyes. He just looks defeated. “No, Star. I meant it all. Every word I said. I’m not giving you away to anyone. I love you. He let me walk because I told him I would persuade you, but I have a different plan.”
“What plan?” I spit. I don’t believe him anymore. He’s lied again so much I feel as if I’ve been married to a stranger.
He looks me in the eye. “Last night was me saying goodbye. My life insurance is worth one million. If I die in an accident tomorrow the mortgage on this house will be fully paid, and you will be the beneficiary of a million pounds. You’ll be able to pay my debt off and still have half a million and some change in your bank account.” He smiles.
I stare at him in utter disbelief. This is just becoming more and more surreal. “Are you completely mad?”
“Far from it. I want to make it right for you.”
“You want to make it right by killing yourself, and leaving me a widow?”
He stares into my eyes. “This is the only way to save your father.”
I feel that like a shot in my solar plexus. My dad. Oh, God. My dad.
“Remember, I always said I’d die for you. You always used to scoff that you’d have to see it to believe it. Now you know that I meant every word.”
“This is madness. I can’t believe this.”
“I haven’t been a good man. I’ve been wrapped up in myself, my own needs and pleasure, but for the first time in my life I’m the one willingly making the sacrifice. I feel good about my decision. I’m putting you before me”
“No,” I shout.
“There is no other option, Star.”
I take a lungful of air. My chest feels too tight. “There is another option.”
He shoots up so suddenly, his chair falls backwards, making me jump. He looks down at me, his eyes hard. “What kind of man do you think I am? As long as there’s breath in my body I’ll never let him have you. God, even the thought makes my skin crawl.”
I stand up too, and words I never dreamed I would ever say, stream out of my mouth. “What kind of woman do you think I am? Do you think I’ll let you die to pay a debt when all I have to do is spread my legs once?”
“Besides the fact that it wouldn’t be just once, I couldn’t live with myself if my wife had to pay my debts with her pure body. I might as well be dead if I allow you to do that.”
I swallow hard. “How many times would it be?”
“For fuck’s sake, Star.”
“Answer me.”
“Why? It’s not an option. I’m not going to let you do it.”
My fists clench. “Answer me, goddamn you,” I scream.
He looks shocked. I’ve never raised my voice like that to him. “A month,” he whispers.
“
I’d just go to him every night for a month?” I say coldly.
He flinches. “You’ll have to stay with him.”
“Will anything be down in writing?”
He kicks the fallen chair. “There’s a contract.”
“Will it just be straight sex, or will … there be other kinky things I’ll have to do?”
“He let me look at the contract. Nothing will happen without your consent.”
My legs suddenly feel like jelly and I flop back into the chair. I look up at him. “I’ll do it.”
He sits down and covers my shaking hand with his own. His hand is warm. “Please, Star. I don’t want you to do this.”
I get off my chair. I can’t bear him touching me right now. I begin to pace the dining room. He doesn’t move, he just sits with his head in his hands. I take deep breaths to calm my thoughts. If my Dad knew? I think of my father lying in hospital fighting for his life and just like that, my decision is made. I go back to the table and stand in front of Nigel. “We’ve got no savings so if you die, the insurance company needs at least a few months to issue a check, don’t they?”
He nods.
“What happens to Dad until then?”
“Can’t you ask your mother, or your sister to help?” His voice trembles.
I bite my lip and close my eyes so he will not see how much he has hurt me. I won’t let you down, Dad.
“When do I need to go to his house?” I ask when I open my eyes.
He buries his face in his hands again. “I can’t let you do this.”
“It’s tonight, isn’t it?”
He nods brokenly.
“Contact him. Arrange for me to go there tonight. Make sure the contract is ready for me to sign.”
He grabs my hand. “I can handle this. I just need a bit of time. I don’t want you to do this for me.”
“Rest easy, dear husband of mine. I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for my dad,” I say coldly.
He flinches as if I have hit him. “I won’t let you do this,” he blurts out suddenly.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. You lost that right when you deceived me and put us in this mess.”
I snatch my hand away from him and stand up. Quick as lightning, he catches it again. “Where are you going?”
“I need to shower, Nigel.” My voice sounds dead and flat.
“Look, I’m going to try and arrange a temporary loan.”
I look at him with bitter eyes. “Don’t bother. You’ll just be jumping from the frying pan into the fire. Here’s the deal. You will get on the phone right now and you will make an appointment to seek help with your addiction. Until you have been cured you will come straight back after work to this house every night. Do you understand?”
He nods.
I lean in closer. “What’s more, if you visit another club, or place another bet again, do not expect me to be here for you.”
He swallows and nods again.
“Good.”
“I love you,” he says softly, his eyes glistening with tears.
That stops me in my tracks. I have never seen Nigel cry. Not even when his mother died last year. “I love you too, Nigel, but you’ve really hurt me with this one. I never saw it coming. I feel as if I don’t even know you.”
He grabs my hand with both of his. “You know me. I am the man you fell in love with. I’ve just been a fool. I was lost. Now when I look back I can’t believe I did what I did.”
“It’s okay. We’ll work through this,” I say dully.
“There has to be another way.”
“The other way is both you and my father die.”
“This is such a fucking mess. I’m sorry, Star. I’m so sorry.”
“So am I,” I say softly. The truth is I feel completely numb. I actually feel nothing. Not fear, sadness, horror, revulsion, not even anger. Maybe, I’m in shock, but everything feels unreal. Like a dream that I will wake up from.
“I don’t care what I lose as long as I don’t lose you,” he cries.
I nod, too numb to care. Then I break away and go upstairs.
Chapter Seven
Star
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QH3Fx41Jpl4
(Sinnerman)
When I get out of the shower Nigel is waiting for me in the bedroom.
I walk past him without looking at him and go to my wardrobe.
“Star?”
I open my underwear drawer. “Have you called him?”
“No.”
“I’ve got to pick up Nan now. I’ll be back this afternoon. Please make that call by then.”
“We need to talk,” he says.
I let my towel drop and pull on my panties. “No, we don’t.”
“Our marriage …”
“Shame you didn’t think about it while you were happily gambling away everything we have,” I spit.
He walks towards me. “Please, Star.”
In the mirror, I see him standing behind me. His hand reaches out, and I watch transfixed, as his fingers caress my breast. His hand is a few shades darker than my skin.
The image is erotic.
I carry on watching him. Surprised at how I feel absolutely nothing. He slides around to the front of me and latches his mouth onto my nipple. I look down at him suckling at my breast. Like a … vampire. He looks up and our eyes meet. The expression in my face makes him freeze. He pulls his mouth away and straightens.
“I’ll be late,” I tell him.
“I love you,” he says.
“Yeah, you said.” I side-step him and pick up the first pair of jeans my hands fall upon.
“I’m sorry. I am really, really sorry. If I could turn back the clock I’d do everything differently,” he wails.
“Shame, then, that you can’t turn back the clock.”
“I’m going to find another way.”
I look at him expressionlessly. “Like I said, I’ll be home after lunch. Make sure you either have the four hundred and fifty thousand pounds ready to pay off your debt, or you’ve made an appointment for me to see the Russian this evening.”
“You’re pretty eager to give yourself to him,” he says bitterly.
I turn around and slap him hard across the face. So hard his face jerks all the way to the side, and the palm of my hand stings. I look at the white imprint of my palm on his cheek. I have never hit anyone before.
“Get out,” I snarl.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“The longer you stand here the more respect I’m losing for you.”
He holds his face and walks out of the room.
I get dressed and go downstairs. He comes out into the hallway. Totally ignoring him, I walk out of the front door. Once I’m outside, I feel the tears start stinging behind my eyes. I blink them back. No matter what happens Nan or Dad must never know. I get into my car and drive down to Nan’s house. Grandad opens the door.
“What’s up, Love?” he asks, patting my shoulder. “You look a bit pale.”
“Nothing. I think I might be coming down with a cold. I don’t feel that well.”
“Is that Star?” Nan shouts from the bedroom.
“Who else would it be?” he shouts back.
“Come in. Come in,” Grandad invites.
I walk through the hallway. “Nan, I’m not feeling too well. Is it okay if I get you a taxi? I’ll go see Dad tomorrow.”
“What’s wrong with you, Love?”
“I must be coming down with something. Whatever it is, I definitely don’t want to give it to Dad.”
“No, no, definitely not. Sit down and I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
I smile weakly at her. “No, I won’t stay. I think I’ll just go back and get back in bed.”
“You shouldn’t have come around. You should have just called.”
“I only started to feel bad in the car.” It’s partly true. The true enormity of the situation only started to hit home while I was driving
over.
I take my phone out and call Uber and arrange for Nan’s transport to the hospital. Then I get back into my car and drive to Hyde Park. I park in a place I shouldn’t, but quite frankly, I don’t care if I get a ticket.
It is a dull, overcast day, and rain is forecast, but I go into the park. Sitting down on an unoccupied bench, I google ‘gambling addiction’ on my cellphone. Over four million pages on the subject. I start clicking on the links and find out the most important thing to remember is not to lose faith if a loved one wants to overcome addiction.
That a support system is absolutely vital for the recovery process. It is a difficult road to travel, but the way to make the process easier and more successful is to recognize that it is actually an illness. A mental illness. I learn that addictions can change the way the brain functions. It skews perceived needs so that the addiction becomes the top priority, and that is what leads to the compulsive, uncontrollable behavior.
Apparently, there are millions of people who have a gambling addiction. Some to a lesser degree, but for some it is bad enough to wreck marriages and families.
I scroll down and read about other people’s experiences. Wives who have left their husbands. Wives who have stayed and supported them through the hell. The main advice they all offer is to be a support system, but not to become the enabler.
The most important aspect of support is communicating in an open and honest way and creating boundaries, they say, by telling your loved one what you are and aren’t willing to do. Being consistent in your expression of loving them and wanting to help. Replacing bad environments with good ones and changing routines. Joining a support group is highly recommended. Feelings of isolation can creep in so a support group is vital.
I close my phone and stare at some kids playing in the distance. I think of my yellow room with its painted daffodils. It was a stupid idea, anyway. A baby’s room should be blue or pink. I’ll repaint it in a month’s time. Or maybe I’ll wait until I know the sex of the baby. I think of myself walking by the Bonpoint store in Soho, a French label that makes gorgeously over-the-top clothes for children and babies. I had to fight the temptation to go in. But once I gave in and pushed open the door … oh, it was a treasure trove of wonderful things.
Submitting to the Billionaire: A Dark Billionaire Romance Page 3