Companionate (18+) | Completed ✔️

Chapter 17: Chase

Chase

He dropped the opened manila envelope on my desk, causing a few pages and a few pictures to spill out. "What the fuck is this?"

He lent back in his seat with a cocky grin on his face, he lifted his right ankle over his left knee and raised his eyebrow before gesturing to the manila envelope. "What you paid me for." He said matter of factly.

I felt my blood instantly boil at his attitude, I knew what would be on the inside of the envelope but I wasn't sure if I was ready to face it. "Get out. I'll be in contact."

With that, he pushed the chair back and began slowly walking out of the office, he reached for the handle but before he exited he looked back at me and chuckled. "I've worked with a lot of husbands in a similar situation as you but the wives -" he scoffed "- they don't usually cheat for no reason."

He smirked as he pulled the door open. "I don't pay you for your opinion. Now get the fuck out of my office!" My blood burned my skin as my anger began to rush through me at a cannoned pace. My breathing had quickened and my face was burning crimson.

I angrily threw everything off of my desk before I pulled on every strand of my hair, and finally taking a tight grip of the edge of my desk. "FUCK!" I fumed as my nails almost dug holes into my oak desk. I closed my eyes as I tried to center myself but my anger wouldn't cease and I hadn't even seen the evidence yet.

I quickly reached for my scotch and a tumbler, swiftly I had it opened and poured myself a double. I threw the golden liquid down my throat as quickly as possible.

My throat burned as I felt the whiskey pour through me, it was almost painful but I knew it was the only thing that would allow my anger to subside. I closed my eyes as I finally felt my breathing regulate. I brought out my phone to compose a text to my assistant.

When I leave get someone to clean up the mess.

I walked around my desk to see where the evidence had landed, I picked up the pages and walked over to my couch. I saw down on my grey fabric sofa and laid all of the evidence down on the coffee table in front of me. I took a deep breath before looking through what my private investigator had gotten me.

There were 4 pictures in front of me and a few documents. The first one that caught my attention was a picture of my wife at the door of her new house embracing a large man, I couldn't see his face but I could see that she was dressed in an unfamiliar knee length dressing gown. She was also barefooted and knowing my wife the way that I do, I knew that she only wore socks in the house when she had pyjamas on otherwise, she was only barefooted when she was in her underwear or had nothing else under her robe.

My jaw clenched as I began tightening my grip on the picture. The other pictures were her smiling and laughing with this same man in the original picture but in every single shot, his face wasn't shown.

This had me extremely infuriated because I knew the P.I. that my assistant had hired was one of the best in the business so why didn't he get me any pictures of who this man was?

My blood began boiling again and I felt like I needed to down the whole bottle of scotch to get through all of this evidence. The worst part was, that I didn't even need all of this evidence to know that I was losing all control of her, she was crawling out of my grasp and I was struggling to reel her back in.