Chapter 5-Surprise, surprise!

Fred’s POV

Henry our butler told me Emily had actually signed the divorce agreement, and I’m not going to lie, I was surprised. 

“She also got into a Rolls-Royce, Sir,” he told me when I returned home that evening. 

Retreating to the living room, I settled down in front of the fire Henry had made. 

I can’t believe that she really did it. I honestly didn’t expect her to sign the papers so easily! I dwelled to myself. But this was what I wanted, was it not? I had longed for Nancy all these years, and finally, we were together. 

But who was the owner of that Phantom? I couldn’t recount Emily knowing anyone with such a fancy car. 

Henry came into the room, handing me a cup of tea to help soothe my nerves. Whenever I was in a foul mood after a long day at the office, Em would always make me a cup. He probably gathered from everything that happened today that I desperately needed one. 

I took the first sip and instantly tasted something wasn’t quite right. 

“Henry, how did you brew the tea? It tastes a little…strange? It’s Earl Grey, correct?” I asked him. 

“Yes, Sir. Earl Grey with one and a half sugars and a quarter fresh milk. It’s just the way Mrs.  Walker used to make it for you, and I followed her instructions to a tee, I’m certain,” he flustered back, a look of uncertainty clouding his face when he used my wife’s, I mean, ex-wife’s name. 

Emily had left a notebook in the kitchen recording my preferences, from how I like my breakfast in the mornings to the way I take my tea. 

Has she always been this thoughtful? Maybe I just never took note of it before, a pang of guilt rising to the surface. 

My mind trailed off and left me wondering where the slight hurt in my heart was coming from even now, even though our divorce was finalized and even though I didn’t love her? 

The devil on my shoulder suddenly reminded me of what I had seen earlier in Hattonshire. With that, I picked up my iPhone and dialed my secretary. 

“Hi, yes, John, it’s me again. Have you heard any further results from our little investigation?” I questioned him, a little too eagerly than I liked to admit.

“Yes, Sir, I have it all right here,” he responded, “The Rolls-Royce belongs to a Mr. Richard Stewart who is the heir to his family’s billion-dollar company.” 

The name Richard Stewart was not unfamiliar to me. He was the president of many multinational corporations and had ranked in the Forbes’ Top Ten list of most influential businessmen last year. 

I had to know what Emily was doing with a man of such esteem and wondered how she had won his heart over. 

“But it gets worse, Sir,” John continued, “I also did a little deep-diving into your wife’s life. Something didn’t quite add up after I heard that one, Sir.” 

“Go on, John, spit it out.” 

“Well, you see, Sir, it appears Emily isn’t the woman you thought she was. We couldn’t pick her up on the system, either...” 

Listening to the news of my wife’s fake identity, I sat there flabbergasted.   

“Thanks, John. That’s all I needed to know. Good job,” and I hung up the phone. 

An hour later I was still glued to my chair, my cup of tea now cold, when my phone rang. Jake’s ID popped up on the screen. My best friend couldn’t have called at a better time. 

“Up for a nightcap, Freddy boy?” asked Jake as soon as I answered. 

“A nightcap you say? Sure, let’s meet at our usual spot.” I replied. What had happened recently annoyed me. I really needed a place away from home to vent.

We arrived at The Blue Knight, a high-end establishment. 

“I’m so sorry gentlemen, but the entire bar has been booked out for the night,” said a pretty, well-dressed lady at the front waiting entrance, “there are only a few private rooms left on the second floor if you’d like to sit there.” 

“That’s strange. We’ve never had this before. Are you sure you can’t squeeze us in?” said Jake with a charming look. 

“I’m sorry, but it’s a private event. No outside guests allowed,” she replied. 

The bar was renowned around the city as one of the fanciest, the drink prices only affordable to people like myself. Are there some young, rich people in town I don’t know of?

“Fine, fine, let’s do it,” I decided for us. I’d like to know who these people are. 

When Jake and I were halfway up the stairs, we heard a sudden cheer belting from the first floor. 

Curiosity getting the better of me, we retreated down the stairs to take a look at what was causing such a stir. 

Around the room, hundreds of employees appeared to be celebrating the appointment of their new female boss. 

Popping a bottle of champagne on stage and singing out to her employees, I was vaguely able to make out a very attractive woman in gold heels through the mass of crowds surrounding her, her fine jewels catching the light from the chandeliers above. 

“Wow, buddy, I know you’ve only just split up with Emily, but would you get a load of that beauty! I wonder who she is. I’d love to take her home,” Jake joked. 

I couldn’t help notice how familiar she seemed, even from a distance. Racking my brains, I couldn’t remember such a wealthy woman. It was usually the men who got all the glory. 

Squinting my eyes and looking closer, I realized that it was…Emily! It can’t be!

As two men approached her, getting closer and closer to the stage, I couldn’t bear it any longer. I felt a flood of jealousy overcome me, grabbed a champagne flute from a waiter floating around, and smashed it to the floor!