CHAPTER EIGHT-- SUSPICIONS

Dave's POV

The call ended abruptly, leaving me staring at my phone in rage. No name, no number, just those words echoing in my head: "I have photos of your wife and the man she spent the night in a hotel room with."

I looked up to find Collins and Ella standing awkwardly at the entrance, keeping their distance from each other. Something about their body language set off alarm bells in my head.

"What the hell is going on?" I stepped between them, studying their faces. "Uncle Collins, are those bruises healing well? You seem to be moving around just fine."

Collins met my gaze steadily. "Unlike some people, I know how to take a hit."

"And you, dear wife?" I turned to Ella, watching her fidget with her purse strap. "You seem awfully quiet this morning. Anything you want to tell me? You better tell me who you were with before I find out by myself."

"Dave, stop it," Ella whispered, her eyes darting between Collins and me. "Your parents are waiting."

"Oh, we have time." I moved closer to her, noting how Collins tensed. "You two are up to something, I can swear by it. It's not the first time Collins has tried to take what's mine."

"It certainly isn't the first time you've put the blame of your actions on someone else," Collins said flatly. "If your marriage is failing, Dave, have the balls to say it is your fault."

Before I could respond, my mother's sharp voice cut through the tension. "Are you all going to stand there all day?"

I pocketed my phone, following them into the dining room. While my face was still swollen and bruised from our fight, Collins barely showed signs of our altercation. Apart from a tiny bruise on his eye, he doesn't have a hair out of place while I feel like a bull rammed into me even three days after the fight. Even in this, he had to show me up.

"Ella, dear," my mother's voice dripped with false sweetness as we sat down, "you look rather pale. Trouble sleeping?"

"I'm fine, Martha, thank you," Ella replied stiffly. Even her voice grated on my nerves now. How many other lies had that mouth told me?

"Of course you are." Mother adjusted her pearls – a nervous habit she'd had for years. "Though I must say, if you'd been raised with proper family values, perhaps we wouldn't be dealing with such... unseemly situations."

"Mother," my father warned, but she waved him off.

"I'm just saying what everyone's thinking, George. Remember Christabel, Dave? Now there was a young lady with proper breeding. Her father's shipping company is doing remarkably well, I hear."

Christabel. The name brought back memories I'd rather forget. She'd been perfect on paper – old money, proper upbringing, connections that would have cemented our family's position in society. We'd dated for two years, and everyone had expected us to marry. Then I met Ella at that charity gala, and everything changed.

I'd been drawn to her authenticity, her lack of pretense. While Christabel had been calculating every move to maintain appearances, Ella had laughed freely, spoken her mind, made me feel alive. I'd thrown away a "suitable" match for love, and my mother had never forgiven either of us for it.

Now, watching Ella's knuckles turn white around her water glass, I wondered if Mother had been right all along.

"Martha," my father tried again, "perhaps we could focus on making peace? Collins, Dave – you're family. This fighting has to stop."

Collins barely looked up from his coffee. "I have nothing to apologize for."

"Nothing to apologize for?" I slammed my hand on the table, making the silverware rattle. "You've been trying to sabotage my business deals for months!"

"Your business deals?" Collins scoffed. "You mean your repeated attempts to leverage my contacts for your failing company?"

Before I could respond, his phone buzzed. Something flashed across his face – anger? Fear? – before he stood abruptly.

"Excuse me," he muttered, already walking away from the table.

But I wasn't watching him. I was watching my wife. The way her eyes followed him out, that flash of... something in her expression. The same look I'd caught glimpses of at the banquet.

"See something interesting?" I asked her, my voice cold.

She startled, quickly looking down at her plate. "I was just—"

"Just what? Admiring the view?" The words came out as a snarl. "Is that what you do, watch other men when your husband's sitting right here?"

"Dave!" my father stood up, but I was beyond caring.

"No, let him speak," Mother interjected. "Someone needs to put her in her place."

"Put me in my place?" Ella's voice rose, her eyes flashing. "I've spent years trying to please you people, taking your insults, your condescension—"

"How dare you?" Mother's face reddened. "This is exactly what happens when you marry beneath your station. No proper upbringing, no family values—"

"Because I'm an orphan?" Ella stood so quickly her chair toppled backward. "Is that what you're trying to say, Martha? That I'm not good enough because my parents died?"

"Well, if the shoe fits—"

"ENOUGH!" My father's voice boomed across the table. "Martha, that's quite enough."

But Mother wasn't finished. "Look at her, causing scenes, probably whoring around with any man who looks her way—"

"You know what?" Ella's voice shook with rage. "I'm done. I'm done with all of you."

She stormed out of the dining room, her heels clicking against the marble floors. I couldn't help the smirk that spread across my face, knowing she had no way home. I had the car keys. Let her stew for a while.

Collins walked back in just as she left, his face dark with whatever message he'd received. Our eyes met across the table, and for a moment, I saw something there – guilt? Worry? 

"Trouble?" I asked innocently.

He sat back down, his movements controlled. Too controlled. "Nothing that concerns you."

But it did concern me. Something was going on – the anonymous call, Collins' behavior, Ella's secrets. The pieces were there, just waiting to be put together.

I pulled out my phone, finger hovering over the call button for the unknown number. After years of my own indiscretions – the series of affairs I'd managed to keep hidden – it was almost laughable that I was so enraged at the thought of Ella's potential betrayal. But I pushed that thought aside. This was different. This was about my pride, my reputation.

I don't care how difficult it is, I'm going to find out exactly what my wife had been up to that night.