“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.