A pawn in his dirty game

Chapter 015

*VALERIE*

There she was. Standing in front of us and dripping in absolute fakeness as the Louis Vuitton bag perched on her arm.

She looked different but when is she not?

Her bossom were more rounded and it didn't take any guess to know that she got a boobs job.

I did a quick once-over. Her feet were crammed in a pair of heels that looked more painful than stylish, and her skimpy dress, if it could be called a dress left little to imagination. Her boobs were threatening to spill out as they strained against the thin fabric.

Ignoring my jab from earlier, she pulled me into a hug like we were still friends.

I almost choked on her cheap perfume.

She pulled away from me and I could finally breath.

"I’m sooo sorry I couldn’t make it to your wedding," she cooed, pouting her lips. "I was on vacation."

The smug smile on her face said she wasn’t sorry at all as she pulled out a chair for herself.

"Well, good riddance. You weren't invited." Brenda sneered.

Her eyes flicked to Brenda with barely disguised disdain, then back to me."Aw, the sidekick’s still tagging along. Cute."

"Still got the main character syndrome, sweet." I mocked, a fake smile plastered on face.

That did it. Her expression soured, but she masked it with a breathy laugh.

"Touché," she leaned on the table, her eyes glittering with mischief.

"Who would've thought Zachary , who hates your guts so much that he would rather die than be in the same room with you .... actually married you?"

Brenda blinked slowly. "Who would’ve thought you’d still be this obsessed with someone else’s life when yours is clearly held together by delusions?"

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing.

Her smile twitched. "Always so feisty. But honestly, Valerie, what’s it like being someone’s backup plan?"

I leaned in, dropping my smile. "Probably the same way it feels waking up every morning and realizing fillers can’t fix your personality.”

Her mouth fell open, and Brenda let out an audible, “Oooh.”

She huffed, clutching her bag tighter. "Well, it was nice catching up."

"Was it?" Brenda asked, mock confusion on her face. "Because for us, it was mostly just… torture."

With one last glare, she turned and clicked away, heels wobbling like her sense of self-esteem.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Brenda turned to me and whispered, "Can we get dessert now? I feel like I earned it just for not throwing my water in her face."

I grinned. "You and me both."

________

I drove back to Zachary's mansion with one thing in mind; to find out why he married me.

The house was unusually quiet when I stepped inside. No one's home.

Perfect.

I slipped off my stilettos at the door. My heart raced in my chest as I crept down the hallway.

Zachary’s study was at the far end of the corridor. Always locked, always off-limits. But today, the door was slightly ajar.

I pushed it open slowly, the hinges letting out a low creak and I stepped inside.

The air smelled with a hint of his cologne. A towering bookshelf lined the back wall, stacked with everything from ledgers to business journals. His mahogany desk sat in the center, the files on it stacked neatly. There was nothing out of place. Even his pens were all neatly arranged.

I shook my head. That's not what's important right now.

I walked swiftly towards his desk and pulled out the drawers.

I brought out all the documents and scanned them carefully but none caught my interest.

I searched all the drawers but there was nothing of importance.

I then moved to bookshelf and continued my search.

I started with the ledgers and moved to the business journals.

I almost gave up my search when something fell out of the journal I was holding.

I picked it up and froze.

It was an old photograph, faded around the edges, but unmistakably real. A young woman smiled at the camera, her ginger curls cascading down her back, her eyes filled with something warm and hauntingly familiar.

But it was the man beside her that made my heart stop.

Zachary.

Not the cold, brooding version I knew. No, this Zachary looked younger. Softer. His arm was around her shoulders, and he was smiling. Really smiling.

My fingers trembled as I turned the photo over.

In slanted cursive, someone had written: 'To my Anna. Forever isn't long enough.'

Anna.

There she was again.

The woman from the painting. The name inscribed in Russian.

I sat back on the floor, staring at the photo like it held answers it refused to share.

What happened to her?

Because if Zachary could smile like that… love like that…

Why the hell did he marry me?

And why did I feel like I had just stumbled into something I wasn’t meant to find?

I pushed myself back up and returned the photograph back in place. I have limited time and intended to use it all to get answers.

I flipped open the business journals one after the other until I saw another photograph tucked neatly between the pages.

It was a picture of a little girl with pigtails, grinning wide with missing front teeth. Standing beside her was a boy, no older than eight or nine. His arms were folded across his chest like he was trying hard not to smile, but his eyes betrayed him. They sparkled with softness.

Zachary. A much younger Zachary.

My heart stopped when I took a good look at the little girl. That was me.

Zachary and I… we knew each other?

No. That couldn’t be. I would’ve remembered something. But my mind was blank.

Why didn’t I remember him?

And more importantly… why didn’t he say anything?

My mind raced with different thoughts.Had he known all along? Was that why he married me?

The photo felt heavier in my hand and I clutched it tighter.

What else had I forgotten? Scratch that.

What else have I been made to forget?

The sound of approaching footsteps echoing down the hallway snapped me out my reverie.

Blood drained from my face, I can't risk being seen. Not now.

With my heart beating fast, I quickly pushed the drawers back.

But as the footsteps draw near, I knew I had no chance. So I quickly ducked under the huge desk and hide, hoping that my panting won't give me away.

The door was pushed open followed by a string of curses as he hit his feet against the door.

Zachary. He's here.

As he slowly made his way to the desk, I held my breath.

He picked the file he wanted among the stacked files and turned to leave. But he stopped all of a sudden.

My heart raced so fast that I thought it would fly out of my chest.

Why did he stop?

He slowly stalked towards the desk and my hands trembled.

I'm going to get caught.

Just then, his phone rang startling me.

I jumped and hit my head against the desk.

"Ow," I yelped before realizing that I just gave my self away.

He heard me.

His shoes came into view and I bit my lips.

"What are you doing?”