Julian raises him into the air and smiles. Our son is suddenly distracted by his charming father and smiles back. Julian radiates a powerful charm that works on anyone, including our son.
“Shall we put him to bed and head to our room?” Julian asks, raising an eyebrow.
Julian tries to undress me once we are alone in our bedroom, but I push him away and tell him I’m not in the mood. He frowns but respectfully backs away.
I get undressed and put on a silk camisole and panties. I slip into bed beside him. He tries to pull me into his arms, but I recoil at his touch. He appears upset, but strangely doesn’t say anything. He turns on his side, his back facing me.
When I’m sure that Julian has drifted off to sleep, I head into his walk-in closet. I find the suit he wore today laying on the island, waiting to be steam cleaned by one of the maids.
Julian is exceptionally intelligent and there is absolutely no way he would leave any clues were he really cheating. So why am I snooping? What am I hoping to find?
I look through each pocket of his suit and find nothing. I smell his suit thoroughly—not even a trace of women’s perfume.
I check the leather briefcase that he takes to work every day. I find nothing but papers inside. I gaze around his large walk-in closet, which contains thousands of expensive, custom-made suits, and I don’t know where to start.
I randomly search the pockets of several suits. When I find nothing, I feel a sense of relief and decide not to search any further. I come to my senses and realize that I may have let my imagination run a little wild.
I slide back into bed and cuddle up next to Julian, feeling his body emanate heat against my bare skin. I close my eyes and sigh. I really hope he’s not cheating on me.
CHAPTER FIVE
Julian and I have breakfast together, and after breakfast Julian heads to his home office while I sit at the kitchen island, sorting through the mail. Little Julian is sitting in his high chair, watching me while the nanny and I chat.
The nanny is one of the best in Europe. She has over twenty-five years of experience. She has a child psychology degree and all kinds of certifications, including nutrition, early childhood education, child development, positive discipline, water safety, first aid, and CPR. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
“We need to introduce him to other children. I suggest planning weekly or even daily playdates. Now is the best time for socialization and interaction with other children,” the nanny informs me.
I’m listening to her as I sort the mail. Suddenly, I come across a small envelope addressed to me. My breathing rapidly increases. I open the envelope and read the note inside it:
He is cheating on you with me.
The nanny keeps talking, but her voice fades away and all I hear is my heartbeat in my ears. A cold breeze washes over me. I’m holding the letter in my hands, staring at the sentence as though paralyzed.
I finally snap out of it. “I’m going upstairs. I’ll be back,” I tell the nanny.
I bypass Julian’s office and head into our master bedroom. I tuck the letter into one of the drawers of my walk-in closet.
I don’t want to panic, but it’s hard not to. I decide to follow Yula’s advice and not confront Julian until I have collected sufficient evidence.
I take a breath as I stand outside Julian’s office. I knock at the door and wait.
“Come in, Cheryl,” Julian calls.
I push open the door. Julian smiles warmly when he lays his eyes on me. My heart squeezes in pain. I love him so much.
I’m suddenly unable to speak as I gaze at Julian. My heart is hammering, my palms are sweaty, and I find it hard to breathe.
“Have you got my mail, my beauty?” Julian asks.
“I…um…yes, it’s downstairs. I’ll bring it up.”
“That’s perfect, Cheryl, thank you.”
I return with Julian’s company mail and place it on his desk. I turn around to leave.
“Cheryl, is everything okay?” Julian calls out.
I turn around and face him. His azure blue eyes scan my face, analyzing me carefully.
“Yes, everything is good,” I say as brightly as I can.
I walk out of his office and close the door. I stand there for a moment, trying to pull myself together. I can’t panic yet, I don’t have any solid proof.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I picture Julian’s extraordinarily handsome face: bright blue eyes, straight nose, fleshy lips, defined cheekbones, and sharp jawline. How can any woman not resist his extremely good looks and irresistible charm?
Julian’s ridiculously good looks, unlimited wealth, and alpha-male status are just too good to pass up. He’s the type of man women want, and whom other men want to be.
I need to figure out how to gain access to his computer, or at least look through his cell phone. I go back downstairs and preoccupy myself with my little boy as I wait for Julian to leave for work.
He leaves the mansion at noon. I quickly head upstairs and discover that the office is locked. What is he hiding?
I hear the house phone ring and rush into the master bedroom to pick up the phone from the bed stand.
“Hello?”
I hear someone breathing over the phone; it sends a chill down my spine.
“Who is this?” I shout.
The breathing continues and it creeps me out. I hang up.
The phone immediately rings again. I stare at it and finally pick it up again.
“Who is this?” I yell into the phone.
There is no response, only eerie silence. I hang up and call Julian’s cell.
“Cheryl,” Julian answers.
“Someone called and—”
“I’m just heading into a meeting. I’ll call you back,” Julian interrupts, sounding rushed.
“But—”
“I love you,” Julian says before hanging up.
When he doesn’t call back for several hours, I call his cell phone, but it has been turned off, so I call his office directly.
“Mr. Stone’s office,” Julian’s female secretary chirps.
“It’s Mrs. Stone. I need to speak with Julian,” I demand.
“Sorry, he’s very busy at the moment. I can take a message if you like,” she says abruptly.
“I don’t care if he’s busy. Julian said I can reach him any time I want. Put him on the phone; his cell phone is off.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. He’s not accepting any calls currently,” she says in a bitchy tone.
“I don’t care how busy he is, put him on the phone,” I yell.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Stone, I don’t mean to upset you, but I really can’t do that right now,” she replies in a harsh tone that makes my skin crawl.
“We’ll see about that,” I respond, livid, and hang up.
What if he’s sleeping with her?
My cell phone rings and I jump to answer it. “Hello?”
“Cheryl, you called me?” Julian responds. “Is everything okay?”
“Your female secretary was such a bitch to me. I don’t—”
“We’ll talk about it when I get home, baby,” he replies abruptly. “I have to go now.”
Julian comes home in the evening and we sit together for dinner. I’m agitated and anxious. We are served dinner by two maids and are then left alone.
I clear my throat. “Who is that secretary of yours?”
“Her name is Milana,” Julian responds quietly as he eats.
“That’s a unique name,” I say casually.
Julian raises an eyebrow and examines my face carefully.
“Are you jealous?” Julian stops eating. “Do you not trust me?”
“I don’t like the idea of a female secretary working for you. And she was such a bitch when I tried to reach you.”
“She’s just doing her job, Cheryl.”
“I don’t like her,” I say firmly.
When he remains silent, I clear my throat. “Does
she have to work for you?”
“I can’t let her go without a reason,” Julian responds. “She’s been working for me for several years now. I don’t trust just anyone to work for me.”
I frown. I don’t know if I trust you.
“Marriage is based on trust, Cheryl,” Julian says as he gazes long and hard at me. “If you don’t trust me, I want you to let me know.”
I recall the letters I’ve received, but Yula’s advice comes to mind: “If you confront him too early, you can be sure he won’t confess. Gather some proof first, then confront him.”
“It’s just that your secretary was so rude to me over the phone,” I explain.
Julian appears surprised. “I’ve known her for many years. She’s a very nice woman.”
“Maybe to you she is,” I grumble.
There is a long bout of uncomfortable silence.
“I love you, Cheryl,” Julian whispers. “You need to tell me if you have any doubts about me.”
I remain silent as I watch Julian’s forehead crinkle.
“Anyway,” Julian says quietly, “tell me, how was your day?”
I continue to eat, ignoring him, acting as though I hadn’t heard him.
“The nanny mentioned that our son needs some playdates.” Julian resumes eating. “Why don’t you call those two girls you got along with at the party? They seemed to really like you and they also have children whom our son can play with. I’ll give you their numbers.”
“I have their numbers,” I say sternly.
“Good, then give them a call, and invite them over sometime,” Julian instructs. “How is your artwork coming along?”
“I have nine pieces completed so far.”
“Great. We’ll need several more if you want me to arrange a private gallery viewing,” Julian explains.
In the morning, Julian and I have breakfast, then he heads upstairs to his office. I sit at the kitchen island and begin sorting the mail. I come across another letter addressed to me. I rip it open in frustration, take a deep breath, and read it:
He is cheating on you with me and he is planning on leaving you to be with me.
My mind goes blank for a moment. What the fuck? My face heats up as I stare at the words.
I rush into the kitchen with the letter, grab a pair of scissors, cut the paper into tiny pieces, and throw them into the trash. He is not leaving me. That’s not happening.
The problem is that even if he really were cheating, would I be able to let him go that easily? My head is heavy and weighed down from my anguish.
It’s not just his looks, his money, or his power. Sure, those are great, but mostly it’s the way he makes me feel. No man can ever make me feel the way Julian makes me feel. I can’t imagine my life without him. But if I find out he is cheating, what will I do?
I take a deep breath and try to pull myself together. I’m trembling and my stomach feels wound up in knots. I head back to the pile of mail on the island and slowly sort through it with shaky fingers, trying to deny my worst fears and act as though everything were normal.
Once I’ve finished, I head to Julian’s office with the company mail and a cup of coffee. When I step inside, he’s not there. I approach his desk, set down the mail and coffee, and sit in front of his computer.
The computer is unlocked. I quickly open the browser and look through his history.
It’s all been cleared. Julian is too careful, too smart.
I’m surprised when I’m able to open his email. I scan his inbox and find only work emails. I look through the trash folder and scan the various names. I freeze when I see an email from his secretary, Milana. I open the email and read it:
I just want to say I’m sorry.
I check the date. It was sent yesterday. Then, Julian’s gruff voice startles me.
“Cheryl, what are you doing?”
I look up from the computer screen as he approaches.
“I’m just checking my email,” I respond quickly, closing his email.
“You have you own computer to do that.”
I leap up from the desk and smile. “I brought your mail and coffee.”
“I can see that.” Julian sounds irritated. “Why don’t you go take care of the baby,” he commands. “I have a lot of work to do.”
I frown and hurry out of his office. What is he hiding?
CHAPTER SIX
In the morning, I call my mother and ask how she is settling into her new home. She tells me she’s in the process of decorating and picking out furniture, but says that any time I need her to babysit she will gladly come by.
I also call Anita and Sandra and arrange for them to come over for lunch with their children. Sandra tells me she is unable to make it, but Anita gladly accepts my invitation and we set a time for the afternoon.
I busy myself with making sure that the three maids have arranged everything properly and that the dining room looks presentable for lunch. I’ve made sure that three beautiful short-stemmed white and pink rose bouquets are on the dining room table. Numerous white and pink candles are arranged at the center of the table. The crystal chandler set above the dining room table is polished to perfection.
The doorbell rings and I rush to answer it. The two Dobermans run up to the door before me. I step around them and open the door.
“Hello, Cheryl.” Anita flashes her bright white teeth at me. She is holding her son in her arms. She is dressed in a long, flowing white dress, a white Hermès Birkin purse, and yellow gold Chanel earrings, bracelet, and watch. Her long, light blonde hair is flowing in thick, loose waves down her shoulders. She looks stunning, like a model from Vogue.
“Come in,” I say warmly. “You look fabulous.”
“Thank you.” She steps in and I close the door. She follows me into the living room.
“Your home is beautiful,” she chirps. “So grand.”
“Thank you,” I reply. “We only really use a small part of it; the rest is just amenities. I could give you the complete tour if you like. We have an indoor pool, a theatre, a—”
“That’s okay,” she interrupts. “I’m here to get to know you. Although your home is spectacular, you can save the tour for another time.”
“Do you want a drink?” I ask as she takes a seat on the white couch in the living room, her son in her lap. She really blends into our all-white décor.
“Sure. I’ll have some champagne.”
The nanny brings out little Julian and lets him get acquainted with Anita’s son while I prepare drinks. I come back with two flutes of champagne and join her on the couch.
“Cheers.” She clicks my glass. “To our new friendship.”
We drink our champagne as we watch our boys play together.
“They seem to really get along,” she remarks.
“So, how is Julian?”
“Oh, he’s great…he’s been working a lot lately. He’s working on some huge business acquisition with a few of his colleagues.”
“That’s wonderful,” she responds. “Yes, Julian is somewhat of a workaholic, but I guess that’s the attitude that got him where he is today.”
“So…I never had a chance to get to know your husband at the party. Tell me more about him. What does he do?”
“Oh, my husband is pretty much retired, so he spends the days with me and our son. We usually do something family-oriented during the day, and then we go out for dinner at night.”
“Wow, that’s really nice.”
“Yes, well, he has more than enough money, and he wants to focus on raising a family right now. It’s nice when a man can retire young and focus on family life.”
“How old is your husband?”
“He’s forty-one.”
I suddenly feel very uncomfortable. Why doesn’t Julian retire? He has more than enough money.
In the evening, Julian and I sit cuddled next to each other on the couch by the blazing wood-burning fireplace with a bottle of red wine.
“Do you really need to
work as much as you do?”
“Cheryl, what are you talking about?” Julian frowns.
“I just want you to be home most of the time, and spend as much time with me and our son as possible. Why do you need to work? You have more than enough money.”
“Cheryl, you need to understand that I don’t work for the money. I work because I like to. I’m passionate about my work and my businesses. You need to understand that you mean everything to me, but my work also means a lot to me.”
I take a sip of wine and scowl into the blazing fire.
Is that his excuse, a reason to get out of the house and fuck other women? Am I just another acquisition to add to his vast collection of possessions? Why not have a trophy wife as well as girlfriends to fuck on the side?
Julian brushes my hair to one side of my shoulder and kisses my bare neck.
“I love you, Cheryl,” he whispers.
Were those lips on another woman today?
“I don’t know if you really love me,” I reply. “Maybe you love me as nothing more than another one of your possessions.”
“Cheryl, what are you talking about?” He sounds shocked.
I glare at the fire, refusing to look at him.
He takes my wine glass from my hand and puts it on the side table. He lifts up my chin and turns my head to meet his eyes. “You know you are the most important thing in my life.”
“Your trophy wife, right?” I raise my eyebrow.
“Yes, but you’re also much more than that.” Julian rubs his thumb over my lips as he admires my face lovingly.
“Trophy wives are replaceable.” I swivel my head and gaze back at the fire to avoid his eyes. It hurts to look at him and imagine him with another woman.
“You know, Cheryl, you’ve been acting really strange lately. What’s going on?” Julian asks.
“Nothing,” I huff. “I’m going to bed.”
I make my way upstairs and get ready for bed. A few minutes later, when Julian joins me under the bed covers, I turn onto my side, away from him. He caresses my arm and doesn’t say anything for a while.
Covet: Trusting the Billionaire (The Trophy Wife Book 4) Page 4