Beautiful Betrayal

The Wallpaper

"Nothing is more responsible for the good old days than a bad memory."

~Unknown
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D O M I N I C
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From the previous night I tried to concentrate but a certain woman's thought making me distracted and in frustration I shut my laptop with a harsh thud, unable to shake off Victoria's words about Eva. How did she get the impression that I wanted a family with anyone but her?

Picking up the office phone, I called my assistant, Mike. A few minutes later, he was standing in front of me. "Yes, Mr. Russo?"

"Call Eva and schedule an appointment. I want to meet her at lunch and book a private setting."

Mike's face paled, but he quickly composed himself and nodded. "Okay, sir. I'll call Miss Popova right now." With that, he left my office.

An hour later, she was sitting in front of me, all dolled up. I internally rolled my eyes.

"You wanted to meet me?" There was happiness in her voice, which irritated me to my core, but I remained calm and calculated.

"Yes," I replied, looking at her intently as she cut her steak into pieces.

"Eva, how did my family get the idea that I want to start a family with you and marry you?"

She stopped midway and looked at me with wide eyes. "What? What are you saying? How would I know that? And why are you asking me this? Have you found Victoria?"

"No," I lied through my teeth, and she visibly relaxed.

She put the steak in her mouth and slowly started chewing it as I watched her intently.

"Come here, Eva," I called out. First, she looked at me quizzically, then with a seductive smile, got up from her chair, and sat on my lap.

"Yes, baby?"

I quickly encircled my arms around her waist and pulled her tightly to me.

"I'm asking you one last time, Eva. Do you know about Victoria?" I whispered in her ear. She arched her neck, giving me access to kiss her, as if I would do that to her.

"Do you know where Victoria is?"

I took her hand in mine and slowly traced patterns on her palm with my thumb.

"No... no, I... I don't know."

"You're lying, aren't you, Eva? Huh? You know where my wife is, don't you?"

"I... I don't know, Dominic. What are you saying?"

"Really, baby?" I questioned, amused, and grabbed the knife from the table.

Her eyes widened in horror. "Dominic... what... what are you doing?"

"Nothing, baby," I said, holding her palm firmly. She struggled, sensing my intentions, trying to break free from my hold, but I only tightened it.

In the next moment, I slowly and deliberately made a deep cut in her palm.

Eva screamed, a mix of pain and shock contorting her features. Blood trickled from the wound, staining her skin and my hand.

“Stop it, Dominic!” she cried, trying to pull away, but I held her firmly in place.

“Tell me where Victoria is,” I demanded, my voice cold and unyielding.

“I don’t know!” she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “I swear, I don’t know where she is!”

I narrowed my eyes.“Eva,” I whispered softly, almost tenderly, “if you’re lying to me, there will be consequences. You know that, don’t you?”

She nodded frantically, her eyes wide with fear but then again she opened her mouth "I don't know Dominic, I swear I don't know and Why do you want to know about her so eagerly?" she sobbed, holding her bloodied palm close to her chest. "She left you five years ago. Have you forgotten that? She doesn't love you. Why are you wasting your time searching for her?"

"That's none of your business, Eva," I snapped, my voice cold and clipped. She struggled once more to break free from my hold, and this time, I loosened my grip.

She quickly get up from my lap and stand in front of me with anger in her eyes "That bi—"

"Careful how you finish that sentence," I interrupted darkly and She quickly shut her mouth, glaring at me for a few seconds she turned around, stomping her foot, she left the table.

As she left, I took out my phone. I was about to dial Mike's number to ask him to trace Eva's calls, but I remembered his earlier pale, haunted expression when I told him to contact her so I quickly change my mind and Instead dialing to Mike I called someone else from office.

I gave him Eva's number and ordered him to trace her every call.

As I hung up, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. A vision of a four-year-old boy appeared before me, holding his mother's hand.

When I opened my eyes, I glanced at my phone screen. The wallpaper was a photo of her and Asher. I had set it as my background when she handed me her phone to show me the folder named "Asher," where she kept our son's pictures. I had transferred copies of all the photos of our boy and a few pictures of his mother, doing so quietly.

Looking at the wallpaper, my heart was pounding in my chest. I was furious with her—so damn angry. Angry for hiding our child from me for four long years, for making me miss all of my son’s firsts, and for denying me the chance to see her swell with my child. I missed out on all the precious moments, and it enraged me.

I took another deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I was torn between intense anger and a swelling excitement. The thought of meeting my son stirred a mix of emotions—nervousness, anticipation, and a tinge of doubt.

What would he think of me? Would he call me "Daddy" when he saw me? I wondered how sweet his voice would sound and if I would be a good father to him. The uncertainty of whether he would like me only added to my anxiety.

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End of the chapter
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