Chapter 9

EVANS

Nyla hated the news.

She used to say it was all the same story told with different faces, disaster, scandal, grief packaged neatly between advertisements.

I remember her voice saying it, sharp and certain, as if she could outhink the world by refusing to watch it.

Now her face was the story.

‘WIFE OF BUSINESS TYCOON STILL MISSING

QUESTIONS RISE AS SEARCH CONTINUES’

The television in my office showed an old photograph of us at a charity gala. Her hand was looped through my arm, her smile polite. I never liked her pretentious smile. Anyone watching would think it was a happy marriage. Everyone that knew Nyla would never have suspected she was living in a hell hole.

The reporters started with a sympathetic voice.

“…despite extensive searches, authorities have yet to recover the body of Nyla Morgan, the wife of business man, Evans Morgan. Investigators continue to explore all possibilities surrounding her disappearance.”

I muted the television and sat back, fingers steepled. I hated the questions and the way every news outlet was carrying the news gradually. And that was the problem. I didn't want her case to gain visibility, I knew she was dead somewhere and I needed it to stay hidden. Forever.

By noon, rumours were everywhere. Social media speculation, anonymous sources, armchair detectives dissecting my marriage as if they lived in it. They talked about her habits, her routines, her supposed state of mind.

They weren't totally wrong about one thing, she was not happy at the point of her ‘disappearance’. Who would be happy, finding out her best friend was riding her husband every night he wasn't home.

Marisol was too sweet to let go, I sat back reminiscing the nights we spent laughing at Nyla’s ignorance. It was a forbidden love, too forbidden to stop now.

That’s when the investigators arrived.

Three of them showed up looking experienced, and each having a reputable name. Which meant bad business for me. I greeted them in my office with the right balance of desperation.

“I don’t care about the cost, I want answers.”

One of them nods sympathetically. “We’ll do everything possible, Mr. Evans.”

“I know you will, my wife deserves that. Just thinking how she must be all alone and scared wherever she is, keeps me up at night.”

I couldn't care less, she was dead anyways.

When they left, the door barely closed before Marisol walked in. My eyes nearly popped out, I thought she would be smart enough to stay away to avoid any suspicion.

She was already irritated. I could tell by the way her eyes scanned the room, searching for attention I was not ready to give her yet.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she says.

“I’ve been busy, as you can clearly see.” I replied.

“With investigators?” she scoffs. “You're really going all out with the grieving husband act.”

I looked at her with obvious annoyance. “This isn’t an act.”

She raised her eyebrow. “You’re serious?”

“I’m trying to be careful and smart. At least I can't afford to be careless, and I thought you would be smart enough to understand that.” I corrected

She moved closer, lowering her voice. “People are starting to ask questions, the rumors are getting stronger with each passing day.”

“That was inevitable. Which is why you can’t be seen with me right now.”

Her expression sharpened. “So I’m just supposed to disappear?”

“Yes.”

She laughed hard before falling on the chair. “Your wife disappears and suddenly I’m the inconvenience.”

“My wife disappearing is exactly why we need space. Nyla was pushed off the cliff, Mari. If anyone starts digging into my private life—”

“You’re scared. You are also scared if I get caught, I'll drag you down with me,” she cuts in.

I met her gaze. “That’s not true Mari, you're mine, and I won't let Nyla, dead or alive, trouble you.” I moved to her, cupping her first and placed kisses on her cheeks.

She crossed her arms and pouted her lips. “I just feel used, you let me do the dirty work and now you're being so dismissive,” I held her hand warmly, trying to reassure her. “And what happens to me while you play the devoted widower?”

“You stay quiet. You stay away from cameras. You let me handle this.”

“And if I don’t?”

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “Then you risk becoming part of the story. And that wouldn’t end well for either of us.”

She looked away first.

“You promised,” she muttered.

“I promised discretion and happy endings, but you have to listen to me.”

Her frustration spilled over. “You don’t just get to send me away when it suits you. I am done playing hide and seek,”

“I understand you, Mari please, let me fulfill my promise to you baby,”

She opened her mouth to argue again, but footsteps approached outside the door. She swallowed her words.

The door opened slightly as one of the investigators spoke to my assistant in the hallway.

“We finished the initial sweep of the location. And everything is clear.” he said casually.

“Thank you for coming, my boss will keep in touch.” I heard their retreating footsteps and the lock fastening on the door.

Marisol turns slowly, her hand still on the door.

I stood there in the bright light of my living room, watching Marisol gather her things. She finished and was slipping on her coat, ready to head out.

"Evans, please don't let me lose you again," she pleaded, her voice soft, eyes sparkling with that mix of mischief and loneliness. She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around me in a goodbye hug. Her body pressed against mine, her curves fitting just right, her scent, that familiar vanilla and something woody flooding my senses.

Holy smokes, that touch. It was innocent enough, but my body betrayed me instantly. Heat surged through me, my cock stirring to life against her hip. I tried to play it cool, but as she pulled back, smiling up at me, I couldn't let her go.

"Mari," I murmured, my hands gripping her waist, pulling her against me again. She gasped, feeling my hardness press into her. "You can't just leave after teasing me like that."

Her eyes widened, then darkened with desire. "Teasing? I was just hugging you goodbye." But her lips curved into a sly grin, and she didn't pull away. Instead, she ground against me subtly, making me groan.

"Fuck the goodbye," I growled, backing her toward the armchair by the window. We tumbled into it, her straddling my lap, our mouths crashing together in a very hungry kiss. Tongues tangled, hands roaming all over our bodies. Mine sliding under her shirt to cup her breasts, my thumbs teasing her nipples until they peaked. She moaned into my mouth, rocking her hips, grinding down on my throbbing erection. "Evans, you're so hard," she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Everything," I rasped, yanking her skirt up around her waist. She wasn't wearing panties, as usual. My naughty girl.

I slid my fingers between her thighs, finding her already wet and ready. She whimpered as I stroked her clit, her nails digging into my shoulders. We fumbled with my belt, freeing my cock, and she sank down onto me slowly, inch by inch, her tight heat enveloping me. "Oh Mari, you feel incredible," I said, thrusting up to meet her.

We moved together, frantic at first, her bouncing on my lap as I gripped her ass. Then she turned, facing away in a reverse cowgirl, her back arched, giving me the perfect view as she rode me hard. "Like this?" she teased, glancing over her shoulder with a wicked smile. "You love watching, don't you?"

"Hell yes," I panted, slapping her ass lightly, watching it jiggle as she slammed down. The chair creaked under us, the room filled with our moans and the slick sounds of our bodies. She came first,

“Evans…” she cried out my name, her walls clenching around me, pushing me close to the edge.

But I wasn't done. I lifted her off, carrying her to the bedroom, tossing her onto the bed. She knelt before me, eyes locked on mine as she took me in her mouth.

"Mari, fuck," I groaned, threading my fingers through her hair. Her tongue swirled, lips sucking deep, hollowing her cheeks until I couldn't hold back. I came hard, spilling into her mouth, her swallowing every drop with a satisfied hum.

We collapsed onto the sheets, tangled and spent, her head on my chest as we caught our breath. "That was... intense," she murmured, tracing patterns on my skin.

"Yeah," I agreed, pulling her closer. We lay there in silence, I didn't know when we drifted off into sleep.

Until my phone buzzed on the nightstand, shattering the peaceful sleep I was having. I glanced at the screen, work, of course. I sighed in frustration.

I reached for the phone, still catching my breath, Marisol's warm body curled against mine under the sheets. The screen lit up with an unknown number, no name, just a string of digits I recognized instantly. My heart was already racing

I swiped to answer, turning away slightly. "Talk," I said, voice low.

The voice on the other end was calm, the lead from the shadow team I had hired weeks ago, the ones working off the books, far from the "official" investigators I had paraded for the cameras and the family.

"We swept the site again," he said. "Top to bottom. Every single inch of this dead place."

I waited, throat tight. “Where's her body?”

"She's not there, Mr. Evans. Her body... is gone."