I'm All Yours | B.E

Chapter Twenty Three

She made sure that the recorder was working and her gun was set steady in her stockings before putting the recorder along with it and dropping her skirt back down.

"Andrew?" she exited her closet only to find him sitting at the table with a glass of whiskey by him. "We need to talk."

As she walked up to him, he didn't say anything. Instead she walked to the other side of the round table and placed her hands on the back of the chair that was in front of her.

"So I've been doing some thinking and I think that we both can agree on the fact that this isn't really working."

He didn't look at her not once.

She looked up at the ceiling, exhaling, "What I'm trying to say is that I want a divorce and I don't need anything from you. We can just separate and that's it."

"Is that so?"

"I also know that you own a brothel so I suggest you think about my words," she blurted out.

Immediately his eyes met up to meet her stare, "What did you just say?"

"So, Andrew Ellison, what you're admitting to is the fact that you do own a brothel?"

"What are you doing?" he raised a brow whilst standing up to get closer.

Billie stepped back a little bit before he roughly grabbed her wrist and slammed her front on the table.

She felt his hands pat her down before they stopped at her right thigh. He pulled up her skirt to find the recorder and the gun. Taking the both of them away, he looked around, "Where's my fucking phone?"

Before leaving to look for it, he bent down to her ear and gritted, "Don't even think about moving or else this room is the last thing you'll ever see.

As he disappeared in the bedroom part of the room, Billie thought about making a run for it but she was frozen with fear.

She could hear him come back shortly and stop in his tracks. The sound of clicking from him typing a message and sending it went off in the room before he stuffed the phone in his pocket and got back to her.

He harshly grabbed her and pushed her against a wall, "Now tell me, where did the idea of a divorce come from? Huh?"

Dead silence only followed after that.

"So suddenly you can't speak? Alright."

Andrew took out his phone and soon Billie heard a signal as he put it up to his ear.

"Hey, Chris. I'll need you to do some dirty work for me. His name is Denzel Curry."

Immediately, panic rushed through her body, "Andrew, please. No-"

Using his free hand, he gripped her throat and roughly pushed her up against the wall even more. He looked her dead in the eyes, while talking, "You know like an auto crash or something. I'll send you the information later."

Billie let out whimpers from not being able to breathe, "P-Please. I can't breathe."

A devilish smirk appeared on his lips, before he got dangerously close to her, "You won't be getting a divorce, ever. Since you love him so much and if you want me to cancel, you don't ever get to see him again. Oh, wait. As if it would be up to you."

On the edge of crying, she looked at the wall behind him, until her whole body was in pain.

He had thrown her down onto the floor,

"I was joking about Denzel. But of course, I can still call Chris and tell him to blow his fucking brains out."

His eyes narrowed, as he watched her sit down on the floor in complete pain. A scoff escaped his lips and he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pants.