MY HUSBAND'S TRAP CHAPTER 5

She moved toward him with her eyes sparkling with malevolent delight. "There is nothing to worry about, my brother. Lottie has learned how to take everything that Mother has been doing to her. For ten years she’s taking her abuse in doses. She'll always love you and will never disappoint you. Have you seen her eyes when she confessed to that crime? What confidence! What an eagerness to protect you. Almost romantic, wouldn’t you say?" She lifted her glass. "Let us celebrate for now, my brother. By the way, who was your victim?"

Geoffrey smiled once more and his smile was even colder than the last. He placed one hand on Vivienne’s hip and pulled her close. "Nobody. It was just one woman who was unfortunate enough to be in the street at the wrong time. I left her there. I discovered afterwards that she had been dead long before she even stepped onto the street." He shrugged as though it were only one more traffic accident. “And one more thing, forget about that as well. You can be sure that Lottie will be blamed for everything. It wouldn’t make a more beautiful story than an unstable wife and a tragic accident followed by a loving husband who stands by her side despite everything she’s done.”

He spun her around in his arms so that he could see her face. His hands caressed her hips and pulled her in closer. She lifted her hand and ran her fingertips along his chest, stopping only just before his collar. “You’re brilliant,” she purred. “Such a meticulous one too. You always knew that nothing could ever endanger what we’ve built.” She stood up on her toes and pressed her lips against his initially, but eventually kissed him more passionately. When she finally broke away from him, she gave him a sultry smile. “Let that little girl stew in her prison cell. By the time she’s out, if she ever is, you’ll be my husband and the company will be as solid as ever.”

Eleanor snapped her fingers once with satisfaction. “Right, the girl was only ever going to be temporary. Only ever meant to contain Geoffrey’s… youthful indiscretions. However, the box itself is no longer needed.” Eleanor rose to her feet, straightening out her coat."Priscilla, make sure that the first batch of press releases show Geoffrey at his most devastated. The way he pleaded with her to stop driving. The way the family supports her despite everything. We want people sympathizing with him, not questioning him."

Priscilla was already typing away. "'Tragic accident. Devoted wife takes responsibility. Smith family remains united despite tragedy.' That is exactly what I have.'" She raised her head, smirking. "Would you like me to include a comment about Lottie's emotional instability? It helps with foreshadowing."

Geoffrey squeezed Vivienne’s arm tighter. "Do it. The more helpless she looks, the less they will be wondering about it."

"Oh, how sad about Lottie," Vivienne whispered into Geoffrey’s neck. "For ten years, she thought that the essence of love is to suffer through everything you have done and what your family has done to her. In the end, it was what killed her." She lifted her head and smiled. "How romantic."

"Efficient," Eleanor said, smiling back at her. "It is much more efficient than romantic."

They laughed, they drank, and they spoke about Lottie as though she were a ghost, as though she were an inconvenience, as though she were an over-devoted ghost, finally getting some use out of herself. Each insult was a hit with a hammer. Each glance they exchanged was a hammer hit with the knowledge that the woman in the concrete room was just a tool.

Before long, as the dawn was lighting up through the windows, the party sank into peaceful silence. Geoffrey kissed Vivienne once again, lingeringly this time, and put his coat on.

“I ought to be getting off now,” he said. “One more performance.”

“And you will see her?” Eleanor inquired.

“Yes. She must be told that I am still in love with her. That Vivienne is only a lawyer. That everything my mother says is an incorrect interpretation. If she flinches at all, the whole thing fails.” He grinned, self-satisfied and arrogant. “But she won’t flinch. I hate not being certain.”

He lifted a fake glass of wine in salute to her. “Just be the little good husband and brother.”

In there, it was a completely different world: gray walls, flickering lights, slamming doors, and talking to other prisoners. Lottie sat on the hard bench in the tiny room set aside for consultations with lawyers in the police station; she was dressed in the same silken gown as yesterday night. She looked unkempt, and the stain of the champagne appeared striking against her white gown. Her hair looked disheveled and puffed up around her weary eyes.

But at the entrance of Geoffrey and the shutting of the door, she felt some treachery in her heart.

He seemed completely exhausted. Gorgeous. Injured in a way that made her want to hold him. As soon as the door closed, he came toward her in three quick steps, knelt before her, and took her freezing hands in his.

"Lottie," he struggled to say her name. "God, look at you."

"Lottie," she stared into his eyes. "Geoffrey..."

"I'm so sorry," and he kissed her hand the way he used to years ago. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I never meant for you to find out anything about what happened last night. Everything my mother has told you has been a lie. She was furious. She was vicious. She's always been vicious to you, but I have never stood up for you the way I should have. But last night, she crossed the line."

"Mother said Vivienne—" she started.

"Vivienne came because she will be representing you," and his sincere eyes shone with real pain. "She knows people in the prosecutor's office. She can help to lower your sentence. That is all that matters. All of the rest has been twisted by Mother. She did that simply to hurt you because she has always hated the way that I love you."

He lifted up his hands and cupped her face, cleaning off the tears from her cheeks without her being aware of them.

“I love you so much,” he whispered in an intense tone. “I will do whatever it takes to lessen your sentence. I will use all my favors, dollars, connections for that. I will pay for the mistake that I did. You’ve been the fall guy for all the mistakes that I have made. You have taken care of everything that we have built together. And I will not forget that and be thankful for that.”

Lottie’s breath caught up in her throat. The part of her that had fallen apart last night still trusted him. Years of training said that this was the real Geoffrey – the man who had called her starlight and the one who now understood the consequences of her actions.

“Promise?” she asked.

"I promise." He leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers. "I'll wait for you. Every day, no matter what. And when all this is over, I will give you what you deserve. What I should have given you from the start—the chance to be a part of this family, to be respected by my mother. Everything. But...please, for me. Don't change your testimony. If you do, everything will be ruined. The company, the job, our lives. It is only a little while more, but can you do this for me?"

Her eyes closed, and her hands were warm. She could still hear the voice that once made her feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

"Yes," she replied through her tears. "Yes, I can do that."

Geoffrey seemed to sigh like a burden had been lifted from him, kissing her forehead, staying there before moving down to kiss her cheek, then her lips.

"That is my woman," he said in a whisper. "My wife. Loyal, strong, and mine."

For a few more minutes, just enough time for one last embrace, one last promise, to make sure the leash is firmly fastened. Then as he got up, Lottie looked up at him from behind the redness of her eyes, the same desperate passion that kept her on her knees for ten years.

"I love you," she said.

Geoffrey smiled the same smug smile she'd seen behind the interrogation window.

"I know," he answered. "That's how it works."

And he left her there, sitting alone under the glaring lights in a ragged silk dress, clutching at something she never had.

Outside, the morning sun was already climbing.

And somewhere across the city, in a penthouse filled with champagne and laughter, the Smith family continued their quiet celebration mocking the woman who had just sworn, once again, to destroy herself for a man who had never planned to catch her when she fell.