Chapter 8

ERIC'S POV

The engine of my car roars loudly due to how higfsst I'd been speeding. I move into the driveway of my house. I don’t even bother to shut it off properly. My fingers tremble out of anger as I yank the keys out of the ignition and swing the car door open. My boots hit the ground with a loud thud, and I’m storming toward the house before I even realize it.

Mia. Married to Alexander.

I can't believe it. Never in a thousand years did I think this would happen. I never even believed she would escape prison so soon. Over the years, I'd forgotten about her yet here she was.

The thought of her being married to that bastard twists in my stomach like poison. My jaw tightens as I try to make sense of it. It doesn’t make sense. It shouldn’t make sense.

She looked... different. More confident, radiant even. Her hair looked more luscious than I remembered. Her smile was enough to ought up the whole room. And that dress.... Fuck!

What the hell is wrong with me? I shouldn't be thinking about this. I try to shake the image out of my head, but it’s there, taunting me.

I shove the front door open with more force than necessary. The bang echoes loudly, but I don’t care. Julia comes into the living room with her heels clicking softly against the floor.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks.

“Not now,” I bark, brushing past her.

I'm not in the mood for her games. The last thing I want to deal with is her nagging or her questions.

“Eric!” she snaps, trailing behind me. “You don’t get to storm in like that without explaining yourself. You're late. Where did you go?.”

This bitch.

I keep walking. My fists clench at my sides, and my chest feels like it’s about to burst. Upstairs, maybe. I need space to think.

“What’s going on?” Julia asks me. Her voice irritates my ears and I'll do anything in that moment to get her to stop talking“You’re practically radiating rage. Spill.”

I look back briefly and glare at her. “Drop it.”

“Not a chance,” she says, grabbing my hand says “What happened? Work crisis? Or is it—” Her eyes narrow. “Personal?”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “I said drop it!”

“Eric, just tell me. I'm your wife. I deserve to know these things. You’re clearly upset.”

My teeth grind together as I force myself to take deep breaths. The words spill out before I can stop them. “I saw Mia.”

Dead silence. For a moment, I'm not sure Julia is going to say anything until I hear her gasp.

Julia’s eyes widen in shock “Mia? How is that possible? And where did you see her?”

I run a hand through my hair, pacing around the corridor "I saw her at an art exhibition I attended tonight. She looked... different"

Julia tilts her head "Different?"

“Not only did I see her,” I snap, “but she’s married. To Alexander.”

Julia gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “What? That’s... impossible! We... we locked her away. How did she get out?”

“That’s the million-dollar question,” I mutter.

Vanessa steps closer “Did you ever check on her? I mean, during all those years? Or did you just assume she’d stay locked away forever?”

I glare at her “Why the hell would I waste my time keeping tabs on her?”

“Because clearly,” Julia replies, “your negligence just bit you in the ass.”

“Enough,” I snap.

My head pounds with frustration, but her words strike a nerve. Is this really my fault? Maybe I was too confident then. Maybe I should have kept more tabs on her to know what was going on.

“Eric, does it really matter if she’s out? I mean, she’s—”

“It matters,” I cut her off sharply. “You don’t understand. If she finds out the truth—” I stop myself, clamping my mouth shut before I say too much.

“The truth? What truth?”

I ignore her. She can't know about this now.

“She’s teamed up with Alexander,” I continue “The two of them together... I don’t know what they’re planning, but it can’t be good.”

“And you’re sure it’s her?” Julia asks. She still seems doubtful.

“I’d know her anywhere,” I snap. As soon as I say that, I immediately regret the intensity of my tone.

The place falls silent for a moment. The both of us are lost in our own thoughts. Then I drop the final bombshell.

“She mentioned a child.”

Julia freezes. Her face drains of color, and for a moment, pure panic flickers in her eyes.

“What?” she whispers.

“A child,” I repeat, watching her closely. “She didn’t give details, but the way she said it. She told me that I left her to rot in cell with her unborn baby..”

“It’s probably nothing,” she says, waving a hand dismissively.

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” I retort “Do you know something? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Eric,” she warns “Don’t start. It’s not important. I'm sure she was just bluffing. Have you forgotten that Mia is infertile? How could she possibly have a child?.”

She's right. Mia's inability to bear kids was one of the reasons I went for Julia in the first place.

I turn around and walk upstairs to my room, slamming the door shut behind me.

Once inside, I pull out my phone and dial the number of my private investigator. The line barely rings before he answers.

“I need everything on Mia,” I say without hesitation. “Her activities over the past few years, where she’s been, what she’s been doing. I want details, and I want them fast.”

“Understood,” he says.

I hang up, my fingers tightening around the phone. But it’s not enough. I need to take control of this situation before it spirals further out of hand.

My mind races as I weigh my options, and before I can think better of it, I pick up the phone again. This time, I call the police.

"How can I assist you?" the officer asks.

“I’d like to report a runaway criminal,” I say.