She did not know what the misrepresentation of facts had to do with Lisa’s past as a dancer, but she would soon find out. Charlie had not mentioned anything about Lisa stripping, only that she had seen the dude, or Lewis, as Michelle confirmed, and Lisa meeting at the club several times. Michelle could not think of any reason they would choose to go there unless they both had some connection to it. She needed to check it out; maybe it would lead to the man behind the curtain. Someone or a group of persons got all of this started, and Michelle intended to find out who. There was way too much dirt for no green to exchange hands. Locating “Oz” would be the true test, and it was imperative that she passed. Her gut was telling her that “Oz” would know exactly who their parents were.
Between the pictures she received and those Armand sent to Brianna, she was convinced that someone had to know something. Armand had recent pictures, but those she received were dated from high school. Who would even know to send those to her and with a note telling her who to talk to? The one woman she had not spoken with was her mother, Sophie. Sophie had always been able to read Michelle like a book. They were so much alike, and Michelle knew that her mom would pick up on any slight change in her voice. She needed to regroup before going to her house.
It had been over a week since they last spoke, and if she waited too much longer, she knew her mom would get upset and start bombarding her with phone calls. Given everything she had learned about her dad, she did not want to cause her mom any grief. Michelle looked out her bedroom window to find the black sedan back in its usual place. Armand still had not contacted her with any information about it, and although they had not tried anything, their presence made her uncomfortable. She called the police and had them send a cruiser by. That usually got them to leave. She did not want them following her to her parents’ house. Michelle showered and got dressed, preparing to head home, wondering how far down the rabbit hole she’d have to go.
Chapter 19
A few days passed, and Sophie had calmed down considerably. Lewis had never put his hands on his wife before the other night. He surprised himself by doing so. He had not intended to hurt Sophie and didn’t feel responsible for what happened. If Sophie had given him the information he wanted, it never would have happened. All she had to do was let him know where she got the photographs, but she stuck with her anonymous messenger story all night, and Lewis could not accept that lie. She was going to give him the name, even if he had to beat it out of her. Turned out, that was exactly what he did. He beat her like she was a man . . . like he would a stranger, but he still didn’t get an answer.
His friend Louis XIII had rid him of any inhibitions he may have had. The sight of his wife’s black eyes, her swollen, bloodied face, colored with variations of blue and purple, paralyzed him for a second. Lewis actually had to admire the beauty of the palette. Sophie fought back at first and showed some real courage, a little grit, but near the end . . . Even her tears had deserted her. Pathetic. Not only had she failed him, but she had failed herself.
He pitied her, and it disgusted him. He wondered how he ever married such a weak woman. Eventually, he simply gave up and left her to lick her wounds. Sophie had been avoiding him and had not said much of anything since the incident. He heard her asking Michelle not to come by earlier that morning. He wanted to see his daughter, but it was probably for the best that she did not see her mom in that condition. He could swing by her place later. Lewis still had a real issue: he did not know how Sophie got those pictures, and he was not comfortable with the notion of someone watching his every move. That warranted his prompt attention.
Sophie slept in one of the spare bedrooms, obviously not wanting to be in the same room with him, much less sleep with him. He was still angry and didn’t want to be bothered with her anyway; he needed space to think. Lewis was aware that he had made enemies over the years. People didn’t like to see you getting money unless you’re willing to share it, but this was personal. He couldn’t think of how the destruction of his marriage would be beneficial to anyone. He reached out to a few friends, but no one heard anything.
Knock . . . knock . . . knock . . .
“Come in,” Lewis told her.
Sophie walked slowly into the room, still in pain from their altercation a few days earlier.
“Lewis, I know that you’re still mad, and I wish I knew who sent the pictures, but I don’t. I’m sorry that I disappointed you.” Sophie’s demeanor was understated, her face downcast. “I want you to know that I still love you, and I know that you didn’t intend to hurt me. You never have before.”
Lewis was pleased. He had been good to her, and he was glad that she realized that she had brought what happened upon herself. Perhaps she was telling the truth and really got the pictures by an unknown messenger.
“You don’t know where the pictures came from?” he asked one last time. Sophie shook her head. “Okay, I believe you, sweetheart.” He motioned for her to come to his side. “I’m sorry this happened. I love you, and as long as you’re honest with me, it won’t happen again.”
Lewis pulled Sophie’s face to his and kissed her softly. Staring into her beautiful blue eyes, he was reminded of how deeply he loved her. He pulled her into the bed with him. He was gentle as he loved her. Trying to be considerate of her tender body, he took his time and ravaged her slowly. Kissing her neck, circling the outline of her breasts, and planting soft kisses across her flat stomach. Sophie moaned with pleasure, returning his love with as much fervor as her body would allow. She cried out softly at the feel of his tongue on her aching breasts. It had been such a long time. With his hand, he explored the depth of her wetness, probing her first with one, then two, and finally, three fingers.
Sophie relaxed and gave in to the moment, pushing away her angst, swallowing her disgust, and freed her body to enjoy her husband’s touch. She felt his hardness pulsing between her legs. She took her hands and dug her nails into his back. Tasting the salt layer covering his hard chest, neck, sucking his fingers, whatever her lips could find, until the salt turned to sugar. Sophie gasped when Lewis entered her. His strokes were slow and deliberate, their lovemaking passionate and extensive.
Her breath heavy in his ear, her legs up over his shoulders, Lewis pushed into her womanness until he was saturated with her natural juices. He felt her contracting around his member, and despite his efforts to delay his climax, he would not last too much longer. Their bodies emanated so much heat, their bedroom was now a steamy sauna. The aroma of sex and deception fragranced the air. Lewis’s strokes grew more intense, rapid, defining, and more purposeful. His body screamed as his heartbeat quickened. He felt a warm sensation spreading throughout his body, euphoria beckoning to both of them. After they had climaxed, they lay breathless, blanketed in silence, each lost in their thoughts.
Sophie wanted to cry, to grieve for the years she lost when this man had chosen not to be present, to not be a part of her. Things could have been different if this man had shown up more often.
“Lewis, would you like breakfast, babe?”
Lewis kissed her. It was music to his ears. He heard his stomach growling in anticipation. This was the Sophie he married. “Of course, I would.”
“I can bring it to you if you’d like.”
“That would be great, honey.”
Sophie grabbed her robe and left to get his breakfast. She was still sore, and it hurt very much to move, but this breakfast was important to her. She needed to show Lewis that she was capable of serving him in the way that he deserved. She had gotten up early that morning and cooked quietly in order not to disturb him. After warming his food in the microwave, she placed his scrambled eggs, bacon, grits, and two slices of lightly buttered toast on one plate, his short stack of pancakes on another. She wavered for only a moment before placing those plates with one glass of orange juice and one of water, all on a tray, and prepared to take it into the bedroom to Lewis.
She took a deep breath and concentrated on not dropping t
he tray. She did not want to upset him again. It took several minutes, but she made it without mishap and placed the tray in front of him. He eyed the food, licking his lips as he anticipated sating his hunger pangs. He seemed genuinely grateful for it. Sophie almost remembered how good it felt to be appreciated by him.
Almost.
“I hope it’s to your liking,” she said.
Lewis was too busy eating to notice that Sophie grabbed a chair and now sat beside the bed, facing him.
She attempted small talk as he nearly inhaled his meal. “I had to get up early because I wanted it to be perfect for you. It’s taking me a little while to move around here lately.”
Lewis heard her, but he wasn’t listening.
Undaunted by his ravenous appetite, she continued to engage in the one-sided conversation. “Michelle called this morning upset about something, but I assured her she’d figure it out. You know Michelle . . . always digging into things.”
Lewis was a bit surprised by his appetite. The events over the last week must have taken more out of him than he realized. He couldn’t get enough. “Sophie, this is really good, girl. It’s been awhile since you’ve cooked like this. All my favorites too.”
Sophie smiled. “Thank you. I wanted you to enjoy it.”
Lewis picked up the glass of water and drank it. Something about the food had left him thirsty. He immediately regretted his decision. Lewis started coughing, gasping for air but failed to fill his newly punctured lungs with the oxygen he needed. He was suffocating, looking at his wife for help.
“Everyone deserves a good last meal—even a jackass like you. Putting your hands on me was a mistake. I have taken a lot from you. I put up with your infidelity, your absence. I raised your daughter alone, and perhaps I would have gone on and continued to do so, but you got greedy. Thought that you could beat me and still live? I don’t think so.”
Lewis was in shock. What was happening? He wanted to speak, but he couldn’t. Sweat dripped from his brow, burning his eyes, but he stubbornly kept them open, staring intensely at Sophie, searching her eyes for an answer, but he found none. He didn’t see any life at all.
“Don’t be afraid, love; it will be over soon. You really shouldn’t be so predictable, Lewis. Why would I apologize for you beating me? I cannot believe you fell for that. I guess I should thank you for the . . . studio session this morning. That’s what you refer to it as, isn’t it? I hadn’t planned on it; then I thought, why not? It was one of the few things you always did well.”
Sophie shook her head and laughed loudly. Lewis understood he was going to die. He abandoned his toil and looked at the woman he married. No one deserved this, he thought, not even him. The end was near and watching Sophie’s eyes as they showed him the way seemed cruel. She enjoyed his suffering.
“You made this too easy. I almost hate to tell you that Michelle is not an only child. It’s so anticlimactic.”
Lewis tried to sit up, but he could not. His body was still weak from their lovemaking, and his health deteriorated at a rapid rate. While he heard the words Sophie spoke, he did not understand. What did she mean by Michelle not being an only child? Of course, she was. Sophie could see the confusion in his eyes. She decided to twist the knife and began to stab into his heart. “That night, when you didn’t bother coming to the hospital? I gave birth to twins.”
Lewis began to cry. He had another daughter? He could not believe he had been so blind. This woman was pure evil.
“Don’t cry, Lewis. I was promised that she would be taken care of, and I’d like to believe she has. Of course, you’ll never truly know, will you? Shame. Things could have been different. Oh well . . .”
By now, his breaths were shallow, empty. His life flashed before his eyes. His mother and daughter . . . Lisa and the women he bedded . . . the day he proposed to Sophie. He lived a fast life and enjoyed every moment of it. He did not have one single regret. Maybe it was fitting that he left this way. He only wished he had a chance to say good-bye to Michelle and see his other daughter. He was sure she was as beautiful as her sister.
To Sophie, he only had one last thing to say—if only he could have had the ability to speak for one final moment. In his mind, he cursed her before attempting to take his last breath. I’ll see you in hell, bitch.
Chapter 20
Michelle felt uneasy, convinced something was wrong with her mom, but she didn’t want her coming over. She could only hope it wasn’t too bad. She needed to relax. Michelle hadn’t heard from Armand for a few days, either. It wasn’t like Armand not to call to at least say hello. She had spoken with Charlie a few times despite her warning at the close of their last meeting, though she had not gotten a whole lot of new information. She was only able to confirm that her dad had a sexual history with Lisa, Charlie, and several other current or ex-strippers.
According to the information, he would put them up in a hotel suite and cover their expenses. She did not know where he got the money to do all of this because she knew he didn’t have a conventional 9-to-5 career, but it didn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things. Michelle was appalled by his behavior. Besides, the bruise around Charlie’s neck was hard to miss. Lewis was a monster, and she was ashamed to be his daughter. For the first time since fate brought her and Brianna together, she was happy with her probable adoption.
“Is it bad that I never made love . . . I never did . . . but I sure know how to . . .”
“Hey, Bria, I was just thinking about you. So glad you called.”
Brianna explained that she wanted to go out of town. This situation was stressing her out, and her dad had not been released from the hospital yet. Apparently, he had contracted some sort of infection, and they were keeping him longer. Michelle, realizing that she was wound up a bit too tightly herself, thought perhaps a vacation would be exactly what the doctor prescribed.
“Sure, love, we can go for the weekend. I could use a break too.”
Michelle hung up the phone and called her mom. The phone rang for a little while, but eventually, she answered.
“Mom, are you sure you’re okay . . . Well, I’m going out of town for the weekend. I’ll have my cell on me if you need anything. By the way, have you spoken with Lew—I mean Dad lately? Oh, you have? Is he there with you? No . . . oh, okay . . . Well, I’m going to get ready to head out. I love you.”
Michelle looked out her window. The black sedan was there, as usual. She decided to call Armand. “Armand, can you come over, please? Thanks.” She needed to clear the air before she left. It was time to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with him. She couldn’t play this game anymore.
It took Armand a little under thirty minutes to get to the apartment. They sat across from each other in the living room, staring each other down, wondering who would speak first. Michelle decided to take the initiative. “What is going on with you, Armand? Why are you faking infidelity?”
Armand was caught off guard but not completely surprised. He looked at her with raised eyebrows, fell back into the couch, and threw his hands up in surrender with a big grin on his face. “You’re right; I would never betray you that way. I love you.”
Michelle smiled. “I know that . . . plus, I had security cameras installed, in case the sedan ever tries anything.”
Armand did not know that. He laughed at the thought. She had known this entire time but had argued with him like she hadn’t.
“I knew you were lying, but I thought if I went along with you, I could figure out why on my own.”
Armand took a deep breath. “Of course, you did. I only did it to protect you. The people I work for . . . They aren’t good people.”
Michelle looked toward the window. “You work for the black sedan?”
“Somewhat, yes. Unfortunately, I don’t have a great deal of information to share with you. I . . . I . . .” Armand was afraid to confess the whole truth. He did not want to tarnish what he and Michelle had, but he didn’t have a choice at this point. “Our meetin
g was not by accident. I was hired to get close to you.”
Michelle felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Their entire relationship had been a lie? She could not accept that. “No, Armand. No, that cannot be true.” Tears fell like hot wax from a candle, creating intimate pockets around her collarbone. “We have been together two years, Armand! All this time you were only pretending? I can’t . . .”
Armand got up to take a seat beside her. “Michelle, it may have started out that way, but my loving you is real. Don’t you see? I was not supposed to fall for you, but I did. Now, I’m afraid for you.”
Michelle tried to focus her thoughts. She felt faint. Did she know anyone anymore? Everyone and their damn secrets!
He continued. “It was about your dad. They wanted to get to him.”
Of course, it was about him. Everything seemed to involve him lately.
“Look, the Marx Brothers are not to be played with. I brought the girls here because I was trying to throw them off.”
Michelle shook her head. This mess was too deep. “What do they want with my father? Why didn’t you tell me instead of lying all this time?”
“What was I supposed to say, MK? ‘By the way, babe, two years ago I was hired to keep tabs on you’?”
“Yes! That’s exactly what you should have said! These people may be dangerous. I could have been killed! You don’t even know what they want, Armand!”
“I think, if that was the case, they would have done it by now.”
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