Trust: Betrayed

by Cristiane Serruya

  Sophia rubbed her cheek on Alistair’s shoulder and her finger drew random designs on his wide chest.

  He watched as the fire in the hearth danced over her body, illuminating and shadowing it in beautiful hues of orange.

  Unsure if he was doing the right thing, he mustered his courage and, paving the path to the story of his past, said softly, “You were the best thing that could have happened in my life.” He tightened the arm wrapped around her waist. “There is something in you that keeps my evil locked deep inside.”

  “Here you go again.” She lifted her head to look into his eyes. She knew she would find them troubled. There were so many things he kept buried inside him. “I don’t have this power, Alistair. It is all in here.” She poked at his chest. “I have never seen this darkness of yours. It eludes me. Don’t demonize yourself.”

  He sighed and pushed up, carrying her with him, sitting reclined on the cushioned headboard. He shifted until she was nestled between his bent legs, sideways on his chest. “You could say I had an alter ego.” He paused and a bitter laugh left his lips. “I hope you’re not afraid of horror stories. It’s time you met the monster, Sophia.”

  “God, Alistair.” She turned to look at him, both hands palmed on his broad chiseled chest. “You’re not a monster.”

  “Such trust you have in me,” he scoffed. “You are too young and innocent, Sophia. Let me introduce you to Mr. Hyde.”

  Sophia opened her mouth, but Alistair put a finger on her lips.

  “Hush,” he said. “Hear me out.”

  A creepy feeling chilled her, making her shiver. She snuggled closer to Alistair’s body. He was always warm.

  She looked at him. He was lost in his recollections. His face was turned up, his eyes closed.

  “I first met Heather at the bank Christmas party in December, 1999.”

  Chapter 7

  London, Kensington. Galewick Town House.

  Sunday, September 28th, 2008.

  1.01 p.m.

  “Sit, Alistair. You’re making me dizzy with all that pacing,” Leonard poured a glass of whisky for Alistair and one for himself. “Sit down, goddammit.”

  Alistair sat on the sofa as he felt the welcome burn of the whisky down his throat.

  “I’ve never seen you like this.” Leonard sat on the sofa in front of Alistair. “What’s happening?”

  “Leo, I need your help,” he leaned forward, put the glass on the center table and rubbed both hands on his face. “Your professional help.”

  Leonard frowned, “I’m here to help. Tell me.”

  “I want a divorce.”

  Leonard’s wish was to applaud and hug his brother-in-law, but he remained impassible on the sofa. “Have you talked about this with Heather?”

  “Aye. Nae.” Christ. What am I going to say? He raked his fingers through his hair. He wanted to pull it from its roots as angst filled him.

  “Well?”

  Alistair shook his head, unnerved. “Leo, the thing is... Christ, this is so difficult.” He rose and started to pace the room again, fortifying himself with more whisky, which he drank in large gulps.

  “Alistair, this is usually an awkward issue. I won’t judge your reasons. They are yours and I understand. You can talk to me. Not one will know. Not even Alice.”

  “Something very serious happened in May, Leo,” he said while he helped himself to more whisky. “Well, I- It happened a few times before I... discovered what she was doing. I tried to reason with her. Make her see that I would not abide her... Err, unprofessional behavior.” A soft lie.

  “Do Malcolm and Berkley know?” Leonard was now preoccupied. He thought that Alistair had discovered that Heather had been cheating on him. But from what he was saying, the problem seemed worse.

  I hope they never do. I don’t want to turn into the most famous English cuckold CEO. “No. I want her away from me, from the bank and from Nathalie. I’ll pay whatever she wants.” He put his glass on the mantle and started pacing again. “I’ll give her the apartment, the Porsche-”

  “You don’t need to do that, Alistair. I know you signed a prenup.”

  “It’s a small price to pay to see her gone, Leo. I don’t want her near Nathalie. Not even for a single visit.”

  “No judge will give you that,” Leonard shook his head. “These cases are very rare. It has to be proven that the mother is dangerous to the child.”

  You have to tell him the truth, Alistair Connor!”Proof?” He snorted. “I will give up a file loaded with proof. Give me some days. Photos, witness, or their testimonies, anything you want, provided Nathalie’s identity is safeguarded. But, Leo, I want it done without her knowing about it.”

  “This is not so easy to achieve, Alistair. People usually say they’ll testify, but when you ask... they are not available anymore.”

  Alistair smirked. “Trust me, Leo. I can prove it.”

  “Get me proof. Then I will see what I can do.”

  Alistair sat heavily on the sofa and looking in his brother-in-law’s eyes, he said, “Let me tell the whole story. The true story.”

  The City of London Bank Headquarters.

  Monday, December 15th, 2008.

  9.12 p.m.

  “Mr. MacCraig, good evening.”

  “Good evening. Come in, please, Baptist.” Alistair motioned to the sofa in his office. “It took you longer this time.”

  “Mr. MacCraig, I told you I needed more time to do this kind of work. It’s achieved only with a great dose of patience. And, in this case, I couldn’t delegate. That’s why I charged you more.” He sat on the sofa and opened a huge black briefcase and handed Alistair three thick files. “Here.”

  Only the sound of Alistair’s leafing the sheets was heard in the room. A dark smile spread on his face.

  After a few moments, Baptist said, “I take it you are satisfied, Mr. MacCraig.”

  Alistair lifted his eyes to look at the detective and bobbed his head, slowly, “Aye, Baptist, aye. You did an outstanding job. An outstanding job.”

  Baptist smiled back, thinking he didn’t want to be in Heather’s shoes when Alistair MacCraig exacted his revenge.

  Heather and Alistair’s Apartment.

  Friday, January 30th, 2009.

  6.03 p.m.

  “Alistair, honey,” Heather’s sugar-coated voice made Alistair’s stomach heave. “All I ask is one more chance.” She approached his rigid back, oblivious of the danger she was in, and leaned on him, her arms encircling his waist. “You know we are good together.”

  “Nae, Heather. You had all your chances. I can’t take it anymore. I warned you, but you paid no attention.” Alistair slashed his hand in the air violently and stepped out of her embrace. If he stood near his wife for one more second, he would beat her to a pulp. With his heart full of hatred, he spat, “I’ve filed for a divorce.”

  He turned to look at her. Her face was chalk white. However, he didn’t feel an ounce of pity for that woman.

  “Please, honey,” she pleaded and approached him with outstretched hands. “Don’t do this.”

  His lips curled in distaste. He stepped back and fisted his hands. “I’m giving you the Porsche plus a million pounds. I’m sure you’ll be fine. And the apartment. It’s all yours, so you can continue with your drug-fueled orgies.”

  “Honey, how can you say that? I love you,” she purred.

  Alistair felt sick as he looked at the woman he had married. He couldn’t bear to stay one more minute in the same room as her. He looked at his watch. “Where is Nathalie? She should have arrived by now.”

  “She asked me to sleep over at Alice’s, honey,” she lied, knowing full well that Nathalie’s nanny was already bringing their daughter home from her sister-in-law’s house. “Was I wrong to say yes?”

  Alistair didn’t deign to answer. He turned and marched out of his home office.

  Heather heard when the front door banged loudly.

  “Oh, no, Alistair Connor. No.” She slowly sat down on
a chair. Anger took hold of her as she picked up the phone and dialed her sister’s number. Emma would know what to do. “Emma, it’s me.”

  “Daddy?” Nathalie’s blonde head appeared at the office door. “Where is Daddy?”

  “Hold on, Emma.” Heather looked at her daughter with so much hatred in her blue eyes that the little girl was startled. “He’s gone, Nathalie. And it’s your fault. All your fault. Go to my room. Now!”

  Tears filled the little girl’s eyes as she ran to her bedroom and flung herself on the little bed. She wouldn’t believe her mother’s words. She knew her father loved her. She grabbed her favorite doll and curled up in bed, waiting for her father to come back. She knew he would return to take her away with him.

  Nathalie clutched the doll against her chest when her mother appeared in her room with a twisted, crazed look in her face. “I told you to wait for me in my room. We are going to Aunt Emma’s.”

  “Mommy, I want to wait for Daddy.”

  “I won’t say it again, brat. Move.”

  “I don’t want to go to Aunt Emma’s. Daddy promised me he will put me to sleep.”

  “Your father makes promises he can’t keep, Nathalie.” Heather’s laughter chilled Nathalie, but she was too afraid of her mother to disobey. “Besides, he has more important things to do than to think about you.”

  The little girl’s eyes filled with tears as she followed her mother to her parents’ room and laid on the bed, smelling her father’s perfume on the pillow. The scent lulled her to sleep while Heather packed a suitcase with clothes for the two of them.

  Ells Hall.

  Friday, March 19th, 2010.

  11.36 p.m.

  Heather! Oh, no! Heather’s ghost is about to enter the room. Sophia sat up abruptly, moving away from his body, her eyes wide, her lips parted in surprise, nausea making her stomach roll.

  Alistair scrutinized her face. “You don’t want to know?” His question was almost a statement such was the wariness he saw on her face.

  Sophia bit her lower lip and twisted a lock of her long hair around her index finger, in doubt. “I’ll be right back.”

  She jumped from the bed and picked up her long wrap, walking to the bathroom. She leaned her hands on the sink. Do I want to know? She blinked slowly. Deep inside she knew that all the dark shadows she had glimpsed on Alistair’s face were going to surface. Nothing can be that bad.

  When she returned to the bedroom moments later, her face was perfectly composed. She had erected up an emotional shield, but fear still lingered in the depths her eyes. She stopped at the end of the bed and hesitated. A sudden desire to flee from the room made her lightheaded. She gripped her cold hands to hide their trembling.

  “Come here,” Alistair whispered the order, stretching his hand.

  Sophia took his hand and sat on the edge of the bed, facing him, “Tell me your story.”

  “As I was saying, I met Heather for the first time at the Christmas party. I was already a minor partner at the bank. I was twenty-five and she was twenty-nine. I was stupid and young and in awe of her. She was... more beautiful than Emma.” If there is any beauty on them.

  “We worked in different departments, so she eluded me for some time. I was a rising star at the bank, but still only a beginner. I worked hard, made a few brilliant deals and was very good at politics. In April 2001, I was promoted to financial director and moved to her department. I bought more shares of the bank that month.” He smiled bitterly. “My status then changed. I wasn’t a minor partner anymore. A week later, I found an envelope on my desk with my name on it. Inside it I found a photo of her with an explicit invitation, and address and a key. You know...”

  Uh? What? “No, I don’t.”

  “She asked me to fuck her. In those terms.”

  The air left Sophia’s lungs and she stammered, “Par-pardon?”

  “She was never coy. She stated directly what she wanted. No-” He interrupted himself.

  Slowdowns? Sophia was mortified. “God. You must have found my request when we started going out ridiculous.”

  “Would you believe me if I said it was refreshing? You are special, mo chridhe.” He hugged her and kissed her hair, lost in his bad memories. If you’d asked me for another month, I would have waited.

  “Then?” she coached, quietly.

  “Her invitation went to my head, as you can imagine. Everyone at the bank wanted Heather. They pursued her incessantly and she invited me - me! - to her apartment. Well, to be brief-”

  A morbid fascination possessed her. “Ah-ah! Now, I want details.” Sophia voice was deceptively soft, but she was restless. She had to understand the full story.

  “Sophia, it was a kind of drug addiction. It’s not a pretty story.” Careful, Alistair Connor. You’re going to scare her away. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, introduce me to Mr. Hyde and his bed-partner. Let me be the judge.”

  Counselor, your opinion about me is going to change if I tell you everything. “Heather was... insatiable. She wore me out every night and every morning, and at the weekends, we spent the whole day fucking. I didn’t realize it at the time, but she was... sick. I didn’t even make the first move. I didn’t have to suggest things. Nothing was too much. Nothing was enough. It was a hell of a relationship. She aimed to please and to be pleased. She moved in with me at the end of the third month. I lived in a permanent state of arousal. I didn’t know if she would corner me in my office or in the men’s toilet for a quickie or what was going to happen at night. She usually went home earlier than me and prepared... You know.”

  “Well, I don’t. Maybe she cooked dinner for you,” she mocked but immediately regretted it. This is serious, Sophia.

  He sighed. “She never cooked for me, Sophia. She ordered takeaway or microwaved whatever I grabbed at the supermarket.”

  “Alistair. It seems my... sexual education - or my imagination - is lacking.” Sophia’s strained her voice to mask her curiosity. “Please, explain.”

  Don’t push, Sophia. You’re not going to like it. “I fucked her in every position and any time or place. In the car; during a bank formal dinner in the men’s toilet. Even in public, in the sea.” In a threesome; with her sister; with her friends...

  What? Is it wrong to do it in the car? “How?” Her voice was shocked. “You are not a quiet lover.” Do you think it’s wrong to do it in different positions?

  “You may recall, I can control myself if needed,” he said, watching her face closely as a strange look appeared in her widened eyes.

  Oh, damn! He’s comparing us.

  “I am not comparing, Sophia. Never.” He sighed. Stupid move, Alistair Connor. “I thought she was hot, Sophia. I couldn’t have been more mistaken. You, with your innocence, are so much more.”

  “But what was so wrong?”

  “Everything you can imagine.” And things I’ll never tell you. Ashamed, he looked at yellow-orange flames in the hearth. “You don’t want to know.” Threesomes, toys, S&M, bondage and some other things. “Suffice it to say that she liked things rough.”

  What? I do too. “But... I...”

  He shook his head interrupting her thoughts. “Not the kind that you like. Violent, degrading things.” He noticed Sophia’s eyes growing gradually huge.

  “And you?” she whispered.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. Did you like those things?”

  Alistair gazed at Sophia for a moment. “Some of these things I had already tried and liked.” S&M was a bit harsh but I grew used to it. “I like a bit of violence,” he shrugged, “I’ve told you before.”

  You’ll have to explain this better later, Alistair Connor. She lifted her head to get a better look at his eyes. “I don’t understand... You like those strange things and still you list a quickie in the car with... things that are wrong?”

  “Nae, Sophia. I don’t think a quickie in the car is wrong, no.” He shook his head again and cleared his throat. “What was wrong was the exhib
itionist and detached character of the situation she put us through.”

  She was stunned. “Do you miss the things you did with her?”

  “Nae, listen to me, I’m quite satisfied with my sexual life with you.” This time, white teeth flashed in a crooked smile. “I won’t lie and say that I don’t have a few fantasies that I want to try with you.”

  Are you sure? I’m not anymore. “Alistair Connor. I never did anything... violent. I don’t like pain.” She twisted her hair around her fingers. “I have never been to a sex shop. I don’t even have the creativity to imagine the pleasure a person gets from that kind of violence.” She was disturbed. “My sexual life is... too normal, too bland? Am I missing something here?”

  “No, Beauty.” He studied her face. “Would you like to try something... different?”

  Sophia froze and looked away.

  Alistair could touch the sudden tension in the room, but waited quietly for her answer.

  “I- Alistair, I’ve- Today, for example, the French maid costume... it was a different things. Yeah, I could try a few different things, however... I-” She frowned. We were talking about you and Heather, not about me and you. “What happened then?”

  Sophia’s question wasn’t prompted by curiosity. It was a need to shed some light on the painful shadows she glimpsed in his eyes. She wanted to first hear his version of the facts. Perhaps, then, she could let Alice or Tavish Uilleam talk. Not before.

  “In hindsight, what I had with Heather was all just one big bad experience. There were so many wrong aspects in our relationship that I’m still astounded - disgusted, even - by my own behavior.”

  Alistair looked into her eyes. His face was grave and the pain in his eyes so fierce that it scared her. “I was her sex toy - or she was my sex slave - I don’t really know. And don’t ask me why, but I liked it. I didn’t see what was coming until it was too late.” He looked at his hands and whispered, “And then she got pregnant. I was careless... And after a few broken condoms, I decided to go on without them. She had told me she was clean and on birth control.”