From Deadbeat To Doting; Something Is Wrong With My Husband!-Chapter 36: Iris Becca

A huge thank you to Lara12 for the coins! You really know how to spoil an author. This Chapter is dedicated to you. Hope you enjoy the drama! (⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠)

...

Brianna didn’t respond. One hour turned into two and Lucian was still awake. Distracting herself, she rolled to the other side, pulling out her phone to check up on Rochelle.

In the room next door, the air was just as thick, but for entirely different reasons.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Rochelle, who laid on the edge of the mattress hovering dangerously close to the floor, looked at the nightstand where her bag sat.

She looked down at Thomas. He had fallen asleep the very second his head hit the pillow, completely ignoring her attempts to discuss the "interrogation".

Now, his heavy arm rested near her waist like a fallen log. And his snoring! She couldn’t even sleep!

Gritting her teeth, she carefully pinched his sleeve to lift the limb. One... two... She moved it and inch, but as she let go, the arm swung back and slapped her squarely in the face.

"Ow!" she seethed into the darkness, rubbing her nose. "You giant, muscular... stone!"

Groaning, she pushed off the hand again and reached her phone. The notification lit up her face—a message from Mrs. Colburn.

[B: I’m calling you. Answer in the bathroom.]

Rochelle exhaled a breath of pure relief. Anything to get out of this bed. She scrambled toward the bathroom, her feet hitting the cold linoleum as she shut the door to take the call.

The moment the bathroom latch clicked, the "sleeping" Thomas opened his eyes.

He exhaled a long, weary sigh, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t sleeping; he was exhausted. Rochelle had spent the last two hours tossing, turning, and muttering about "grave ants."

He had only pretended to be out cold so she would finally stop trying to talk to him.

Feeling the rare moment of solitude, Thomas tried to move. His entire left side was stiff from maintaining the same "sleeping" posture for hours. He groaned softly, beginning to stretch his long limbs across the newfound space—

Click.

Thomas froze mid-stretch, his leg halfway across the bed. With the speed of a professional operative, he slammed himself back into his original position, shutting his eyes tight and forcing himself to snore.

He felt the mattress dip. Rochelle was back.

He waited for her to start fidgeting again, but instead, he felt a soft tug at the corner of the bed. Slowly, almost tentatively, Rochelle pulled the thin motel duvet up, tucking it over his shoulders to shield him from the draft of the shivering window.

Thomas stayed perfectly still, his heart doing a strange, unexpected rhythm against his ribs.

Rochelle’s heart was drumming too. She had used the opportunity of tucking him in to check how deep his sleep was. Since he didn’t wake up, it was now or never.

Her fingers, trembling slightly, moved over the heavy wool of Thomas’s trousers. She felt the rectangular weight of his phone. She began to slide it out, millimeter by millimeter, breathing through her teeth.

Just as the edge of the phone cleared the pocket, a hand—large, calloused, and terrifyingly strong—clamped around her wrist.

Rochelle let out a strangled yelp.

Thomas squeezed her fragile hand against his grip. He sat up in one violent motion, giving her an angry glare. He looked disgusted; not just with her, but with himself for letting his guard down even for a second.

"What," he rasped in a dangerous tone, "do you think you’re doing?"

Rochelle’s mind went blank. There was nothing compared to the ice in Thomas’s stare.

Stammering, her eyes darted to his phone. "I... I just... I was looking at the brand! It’s... it’s a very fine, fine model. I’ve been thinking of upgrading and yours just looked so... cool in the dark?"

Thomas stared at her for a long agonizing beat, though his grip didn’t loosen. "You wanted to see the brand. At midnight. While I was sleeping."

"Yes?" Rochelle’s voice went up an octave.

Thomas shoved her hand back toward her side of the bed and tossed the phone onto the far nightstand, well out of her reach. He turned his back to her; shoulders rigid with a silent irritation.

He felt like a fool for enjoying the way she had tucked him in. She wasn’t a "Sweet Assistant"; she was a spy for the enemy. An attractive spy for that matter!

Rochelle didn’t even try to argue. She flopped onto her side, pulled the covers over her head, and basked in the pure stinging heat of her own shame.

...

Brianna’s phone vibrated under her pillow.

[R: Mission failed. He caught me. I told him his phone looked ’cool.’ I want to jump into a volcano. Please don’t fire me.]

Brianna let out a long, weary sigh. Of course he caught her. It was like they planned not to fall asleep tonight.

...

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Was the sound of Brianna’s digital alarm made against the nightstand. The sound pierced the satisfying silence of the motel room, making Brianna groan.

Fumbling blindly across the nightstand, her fingers brushed the cold glass of her phone. She brought the glowing screen inches from her face, squinting against the harsh light.

Get your lazy ass up for work!

She stared at the text of her own alarm for a beat too long before tossing the phone back. She tried to roll over, expecting to bump into the wall of muscle that was her husband, but the bed felt... empty.

Her eyes snapped open as she felt the coldness of the sheets.

"No," she gasped, sitting up so fast the room performed a sickening tilt. She gripped her head, waiting for the dizziness to pass. She had promised herself she wouldn’t sleep. Leaving herself vulnerable in a room with him.

But the Statue had won; while she had succumbed to exhaustion!

Her eyes unbotheredly glanced to the nightstand in Lucian’s corner and she saw the yellow file still sitting there.

Mumbling, she tilted her head. "Did he forget it?"

Brianna didn’t wait for the answer as she reached for it. For some reason, her heart started pounding when she found the file sealed.

Fishing for a hairpin from her tangled hair, she worked the seal, tearing the paper with a soft skritch. Then she reached in and pulled out a single dossier.

A photo stared back at her. It was the girl from the shack; Ronnie’s ex-girlfriend. Apparently, her name was Iris Becca.

Brianna scanned the credentials attached. It wasn’t just a name; it was a resume...?

Is he giving her a job at his firm?

The thought was like a drenching of ice water. He was actually doing it... bringing his "other life" into their professional world. Was he having an affair with a ghetto girl long before Ronnie was dead?

Did he kill Ronnie just to clear the path? Did he stage that rescue at the shack?

As the bathroom door clicked open, there was a moment of silence until Lucian’s baritone voice rang out.

"Why are you going through my file?"

Brianna heard him perfectly, but refused to turn. She just kept staring at Iris Becca’s face. She wasn’t the type to compare women, but why was his predictable worthlessness making her question her own attractiveness now?

She had been nominated countless times for the prettiest woman in the city, yet being around Lucian sometimes made her feel unattractive. Meanwhile, her silence was affecting Lucian.

He walked further into the room, his presence instantly making the walls feel closer. When she finally turned to look at him, he didn’t look guilty; he looked irritated. And he snatched the file from her hands, his fingers brushing hers with a coldness that matched his eyes.

She looked at him blankly. Already planning how she was going to burn all his suit the moment they get to the villa.

Sensing her quietness, Lucian’s expression softened for a fleeting second, but Brianna was already turning away. She needed to get to Rochelle. She just couldn’t stay in the same room with this scum.

But when she dialed the number, the girl’s line was dead!

Next door, the tension was just as cold. Thomas was already dressed, sitting on the bed and fastening his shoes. Rochelle stood behind him, twisting her bag’s strap as she thought of making this right.

The moment Thomas rose up,

"Mr. Lynde?"

He turned briefly with an indifferent stare. For some reason, she had disappointed him with her clumsy move last night.

Rochelle forced out. "I... I’m sorry. For invading your privacy. For everything yesterday."

Thomas didn’t say a word. He simply turned toward the door, letting his silence cut more than actual words.

She called out to his back. "I’d love to buy you dinner!" That made him pause briefly. "To apologize properly."

She bit her bottom lip, waiting for his reply, but he turned indifferently. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

"No."

As Thomas stepped into the hallway, he only felt regret. Walking plainly, he didn’t even know when he nearly bumped into Brianna. Coming behind her was Lucian.

Only when he looked at Lucian’s tie did his hand suddenly move to his collar. His tie was missing!

Turning back into the room, he was faced with something he shouldn’t have seen!