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It’s one thing to know Savannah and Lee were together. I saw them on a date, with my own damn eyes. But this… That painting… It’s different.
I don’t knowwhy. it’s just fucking different.
Maybe it’s because before, I could pretend that it was nothing. A fling. Unimportant.
But…that fucking painting.
It’s a piece of her. A piece ofmy wife. And some other man had it.
Not to mention the fact that the slimy piece of shit gave it tohis wifeas a fucking anniversary gift.
If I had godlike powers, I’d bring Leland back to life just so I could kill him all over again. Only this time, I’d make it slow. And I’d let Aspen and Savannah watch.
My jaw flexes.
Maybe I’d even fuck Savannah in front of him first. Just to prove she belongs to me now.
The annoying voice niggles in the back of my mind, asking me why I care. Why I’m so jealous over a dead man.
But why do I need to justify myself? Savannahismine, she’s my wife. Whether she wants to be or not.
And it’s not like it’s crazy to be jealous over my wife. Even if her dead ex wasn’t entwined with my family, I’d still want to wipe him from existence.
My hands squeeze the steering wheel.
Maybe I can still do that. She’s got to have some living ex-boyfriends. If I can remove them from the playing board I might feel better.
Next to me, Savannah shifts in the passenger seat.
I know I’m being a dick. She hasn’t done anything to deserve this silent treatment.
She could’ve told me about the painting.
When though? It’s not like I’ve given her a lot of opportunities to talk to me. Not like I’ve given her a lot of reasons to share her secrets.
I glance at her profile.
Tonight. I’ll cool down in my office for a bit, then we’ll talk.
CHAPTER31
Savannah
I makesure to climb out of the big SUV before King can circle around to my side. He’s been in a dark mood since he laid eyes on that cursed painting, and I’d prefer to avoid any sort of interaction with him for the rest of the night.
The garage door is still open, and he waves over a man who must be a part of the security team.
King opens the rear door of the Suburban, showing my suitcases and the few other bags of items. “This all goes inside.” I watch him hesitate, like he’s going to grab the painting himself, but instead, he turns on his heels and stomps into the house.
Feeling awkward, I step forward to take one of the bags, but the security guy stops me with a raised hand. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Vass, I got it.”
I bite my lip, but step back.
Mrs. Vass.
So, the staff, or whatever they’re called, knows about the wedding.
Duh, one of them was our freaking witness.