31

The rain drummed against the library windows, a relentless, frantic thud that matched the pounding in Richard’s temples. It rarely rained in February. On the desk lay a brown folder, hand-delivered by Victor an hour ago.

Richard flipped through the glossy photos. His jaw tightened so hard he felt the bone might crack.

"Explain these," Richard commanded, his voice a jagged edge of ice.

Victor, standing in the shadows of the bookshelves, adjusted his tie. "You asked for leverage, Sir. So. I went back to day one. The wedding morning."

For the purpose of satisfying  arecent curiousity, he had asked victor to get footages from Chase’s wedding, to enable him find more of her friends and relatives that may have attended the wedding, he needed to know her family, but what he would discover about their union gagged him.

Richard looked at a photo of Chase. He was in his tuxedo, looking smug, but he wasn't with his bride. He was pinned against a catering van with another woman. The timestamp was 10:14 AM. Two hours before he walked Giselle down the aisle.

"He was with her while the priest was warming up?" Richard hissed.

"And her," Victor added, sliding another photo forward. "And the girl from the florist's shop three weeks later. It wasn't just a lapse in judgment, Richard. Chase has been systematically humiliating and cheating on your daughter in law from the second he put the ring on her finger"

Richard’s hand trembled as he picked up a photo of Giselle in her white gown. She looked so young. So hopeful. Her smile was a fragile thing, unaware that the man she was about to pledge her life to had plans of ending things with her to be another woman

"He never deserved you," Richard whispered to himself, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw on the paper. "Not for a single second."

"Sir," Victor warned. "The board is asking—"

"To hell with the board!" Richard roared, slamming his fist onto the photos. The desk rattled. "He treated her very badly. Like a washed up toy. He insulted her and mocked her, I was beginning to wonder what did she do that was so wrong but I just realized my son has been an ass and to think he brought his trash into her home. I thought him to be a better man."

The lust that had been burning in Richard’s gut for days shifted. It turned from a flickering flame into a dark obsession, all the vapors of restraints he had placed on himself evaporating.

"Change the objective," Richard said, his voice dropping to a lethal, quiet register.

"Sir?"

"I honestly think Giselle needs the much needed break." Richard looked at Victor, his blue eyes cold and absolute. "When I find her, I am not bringing her back for Chase. I am bringing her back for me. My son needs to understand he lost a gem. I want him erased from her life."

"You’re talking about taking your son’s wife," Victor said.

"I’m talking about doing the right thing," Richard countered. "He threw her away days ago. I’m just picking up the gold he was too stupid to keep."

The door to the library swung open. Chase walked in, looking disheveled and irritated. "Victor? What are you still doing here? Dad, have we found her yet? I’m tired of this whole arrangement."

Richard didn't look up. He didn't move. He just stared at the photo of Chase behind the catering van.

"Come here, Chase," Richard said softly.

"I don't have time for a lecture, Dad. I’ve got a lunch—"

"I said come here."

The sheer gravity in Richard’s voice pulled Chase toward the desk. He leaned over, looking at the photos. His face went from annoyed to ashen in three seconds.

"Where did you get these?" Chase stammered, his hand reaching for the folder.

Richard grabbed Chase’s wrist in a grip that could have crushed marble. "Ten o'clock on your wedding morning. You were in the parking lot of the chapel with a girl whose name you probably don't even remember. How could you be so callous."

"Dad, it was a mistake! I was nervous! Everyone has cold feet—"

"Cold feet and the best way to deal with it is get intimate with another woman?" Richard stood up, forcing Chase back with the sheer weight of his fury. "The fact you decided to marry her and still cheat on her on the very wedding day? You treated a Hemingway woman like a common street walker."

"She isn't a Hemingway woman!" Chase yelled, trying to reclaim his bravado. "She’s a boring, middle-class girl I brought into this house to give you an heir!"

Richard’s hand flew out, grabbing Chase by the throat and pinning him against the bookshelf. Books rattled and fell. "What the fuck has come over you?."

Chase gasped for air, clawing at his father’s hand. "You... you have come over me. Your hypocrisy is  disgusting. Considering you had your rocky moments with my mum."

Richard is taken aback.

"You don’t get to speak to me like that, I am your father," Richard hissed into his son’s ear. "And as of this moment, you will speak to me with respect, you don’t know nothing about my relationship with your mum."

Richard let go. Chase slumped to the floor, coughing and rubbing his neck.

"Get out," Richard said, turning back to the desk.

"This shit is toxic dad," Chase choked out, looking up with a bitter, tearful sneer. "Fuck!! I hate you dad." He dusted himself before leaving.