Do you know him?

He told the chauffeur he was headed to the police station, and sat back as his head ached and his chest burned.

He felt sick, really sick. 

He tried to keep his mind from thinking about any of it, till he had answers. 

How could he go around claiming the head of the Tucker household when he was so blind?

Something this grave had happened to his unborn child and the woman who was supposed to be under his protection, and he did not know it.

He had been unable to protect them under his own roof and had lived in ignorance for almost two years. 

All Ariel’s actions began to make sense. 

If what Sullivan had said was correct, that meant he must have saved her that night.

It was impossible for her to disappear into thin air like his mother claimed, and in that state he could not see her getting far on her own without someone’s help. 

If that helper was Sullivan, it would make sense why she had married him.

Or, that opportunistic Sullivan might have seen it as the perfect opportunity, and proposed to marry her. 

Wait. 

What if Sullivan forced her to marry him? Blaine would not put such a thing past that bastard. 

Is that why they are getting a divorce now?

He heard his chauffeur mumble in front, and he looked up to see the convoy of all white cars driving past them, other cars having to clear off the road except theirs.

That was the Sullivan convoy as white was his signature color. Only he had all white cars among the families that traffic would typically clear for.

“Follow them,” he said to his chauffeur, and he heard the man radio all the cars behind and in front to tell them of their new destination. 

He kept his eyes pinned on the cars in front of him. He was going to speak with Ariel, only she would be able to answer his questions, better than anything the police could tell him.

And if he had to beat Sullivan bloody to get an opportunity to do that, he would. 

He balled his fist.

But when his car slowed down in front of the dress shop the Sullivan convoy had entered, he saw Ariel step out of one of the cars.

He watched her, as she smiled at the man who held her car door open, returned his bow and began to walk towards the front door of the building.

He could see his chauffeur stealing a peak at him to see his next move. 

He nodded, and someone was at his door, pulling it open before he could even reach for the handle. 

He sighed and stepped out of the car, fixing the button of his suit.

Sullivan guards at the door gave him the death stare and did not bow. But they did not stop him. 

He walked into the shop and raised his hand to ward the eager shop attendant away, then went to another aisle of clothes, far from the one Ariel was in. 

He looked around, only then noticing that this was a men’s clothing store.

Could she be here to get something for Sullivan? He frowned, that was wrong. 

Why would she be buying something for a man she was going to divorce?

He checked out some of the suits, partly to appear busy, but also curious about their designs.

His personal stylist only shopped in Europe, but now that he was here, these were not bad. 

They were not bad at all. 

Despite not being imported, they were finely tailored, and as he ran his hand down the material, he realized the best quality.

He looked up when he heard her laughter. 

He stood still, feeling transported back to that suite and how that had been one of his favorite things about her. The way she laughed.

She was laughing at some joke the staff member who assisted with her shopping had made, and it rang out, clear and feminine. 

He grimaced in pain as his mind went back to all he had discovered this afternoon. He was glad she could still laugh.

That that had not been stolen from her, although her innocence and sweetness were all gone now. 

He noticed a well-dressed man walking towards her, and when the man stopped before her, she blushed and her smile vanished.

Blaine suspected the man had just made a pass at her.

He began to walk forward. This man had to be some type of foreigner who had only just arrived in Tokyo. 

No other person would dare flirt with Sullivan’s wife out in public. 

He confirmed this suspicion as he drew closer, and clearly heard the man’s Italian accent.

He frowned, after what Ophelia did, he would always have a dislike for those people. 

“No. Thank you.” He heard Ariel say just as he got to them, but he was not sure what she had just said no to. 

She glanced up, saw him, and froze.

Her whole body became tense, and he literally saw walls go up all around her. Not even this stranger had made her feel that way.

“Ah. Is this your man then?” The Italian said, turning around. “Your woman is stunning.” He smiled brightly.

Blaine went to stand beside her now that it was clear the man was bothering her. 

It was crazy how, regardless of tax brackets, you found douche bags like these everywhere. If he was really her man he would have answered that unnecessary comment with a punch.

“Thank you,” He said instead, and stood beside Ariel, finally looking up into the man’s face. 

He froze as he realized this was Ophelia’s Italian. 

The rage that seized him suddenly made him physically dizzy, and he feared what his blood pressure must be reading at the moment.

Today seemed to only be getting tougher. 

Ariel looked between both of them, as it was obvious the Italian knew him too, recognizing him now they were staring at each other in the face.

So he knew him, recognized him, and then he was still f*cking his wife!

“So you know each other?” Ariel’s voice came out soothing, and made Blaine begin to think clearly again. 

Ophelia was in the past, and fighting with this man here would only affect the company’s image. 

And all for a woman he was going to divorce anyway?

“Hmm.” He responded to Ariel. “Come honey.” He placed his hand on her arm and began to lead her away. “There are better suits on this aisle.”