The Mistress Had To Die

Chapter Three

“Uuhhh!” Jackson smirked as he heard that erotic sound from her. Claiming her whole lips, Angela got back to herself and started kissing him aggressively and hungrily.

Jackson let out a throaty groan as he felt Angela biting his lower lip.

“You know what turns me on, my little slut,” he groaned amidst the kiss.

He took his fingers to her blouse and unbuttoned the first three buttons, then he squeezed her right boobs hard from her bra. Angela couldn’t help but moan loudly again. Jackson took his hand down to the back of her skirt and unzipped it. Angela let the skirt drop to the floor, but they didn’t for once let go of each other’s lips.

Angela was now left only in her red G-string panties and matching net bra, through which her breasts could be seen clearly. She moaned lustily into his mouth while holding him by the collar to draw his head closer to her. He gently pulled away his lips, then started kissing her exposed cleavages, slowly down to her belly button.

Angela continued moaning recklessly as she leaned backward to give Jackson easy access to her body.

Just as he was about to bring his head down between her open legs, the door immediately swung open.

“Ooh, sorry to interrupt you guys, but there’s an urgent matter, Jackson,” Peter apologized, when he saw what he interrupted.

“Peter, not now,” Jackson muttered with frustration.

Angela just rolled her eyes shamelessly. She wore her skirt back on before buttoning her shirt up too. She stretched her shirt and arranged her hair. She whispered something into Jackson’s ear before she left for her own office.

“Clean your lips, man. You look like a mess right now,” Peter scoffed while he went to sit down on the chair directly opposite Jackson’s.

Jackson smiled naughtily as he brought out his handkerchief to wipe his lips that were smeared with red lipstick from Angela’s lips.

“So, what’s the urgent matter that can’t wait for me to have my fun?” he asked, adjusting his shirt to sit down.

“Actually—” Peter started, “I’m just hearing from our finance and accounts department now, that the IRS has requested to see our account statement. So, I want to know if it’s cool to go ahead and show them that.” He looked at Jackson intently.

Jackson looked at him, “It depends on the period of the statement they want to see. But I would like to know how far they will go to see the statement, though.”

“Well, according to the accountant, she said that it’s a routine sample handled by the computer,” Peter said.

“Then why tell me?” Jackson asked. “This is not what the IRS personnel are coming to check by themselves, but through the computers.”

“I thought we agreed that if something concerning the company’s finances comes up, then it should be treated with utmost care and urgency—” Peter said but Jackson cut him off.

“If it’s just a routine check by the IRS with computers, then it’s not important,” he concluded.

Peter looked at him with a confused expression visible on his face.

Jackson stood up and walked to his window. “How long have we known each other?” Jackson asked Peter. “Just trust me, man,” he said with a smile.

Peter simply shrugged his shoulders without uttering any word. Just then, a call came through on the telephone that’s on Jackson’s desk.

Peter looked at him. “Should I talk to her, or will you do that by yourself?” he asked Jackson.

“I’m letting you do that,” Jackson said to him.

“Alright, I will do that in my office then.” Peter stood up and went back to his office.

Belinda’s POV:

She was sitting on their balcony with a laptop placed on a table facing her. She seemed so engrossed in the conversation on the phone pressed to her ear.

“So, do you think you can retrieve some messages from the damaged phone?” she asked the tech guy she was talking to over the phone.

“Yes, ma’am, I think so. As long as you have the password and the details I will be needing to get access to the phone.”

“Sure, I have them.” Belinda nodded her head.

“Alright, ma’am, let's get into that quickly.”

A few minutes later, the tech guy called her back for her to look at her laptop.

“Ma’am, I think everything you need to know is right there now,” he said over the phone.

“Thank you. Send your details so that I can complete your payment.”

“Okay, ma’am, bye,” he said and cut the call.

Belinda started scrolling through the laptop until she saw something that captured her attention. She stopped and zoomed in on the screen. Immediately, she picked up her phone to search for the Threads account she was seeing on her screen.

She saw a picture of a young lady with long black hair, smiling brightly with black sunglasses covering her eyes. She zoomed in on the picture to see her husband standing right behind the lady. She looked closely to see if she would be able to identify the woman, but she couldn't. She decided to go through the account, but she didn’t see any other pictures of her husband.

But as she was about to scroll up again, she saw the lady again on a beach, wearing a red bikini. Her husband was shirtless, showing his tattoos and his sexy abs, while wearing tight black shorts. Both of them were smiling brightly at each other with their fingers entwined.

She also saw another picture of them, and this time they were in a club. That was when she recognized the lady as the Personal Assistant her husband had employed three years ago.

The pictures left her speechless but not too shocked. Because it completely confirmed her suspicions of her husband seeing someone behind her back.

She gently cleared everything on the laptop and packed up all her belongings on the desk as she headed back inside their room. She went into the bathroom to soak herself in the bathtub. As she lay inside there, she started remembering everything she had sacrificed just so their marriage would stand. She couldn’t help it but to break down. She cried uncontrollably to herself.

After about an hour, she came out of the bathtub, dried her body, and put on new clothes. She headed toward her car. She drove out and headed toward the spot where she always washed her car. So she could clear her head a little.

“I want to recharge my car wash token,” she said to the attendant boy, her attention divided as she hadn’t gotten over what she saw earlier.

“Right away,” the boy replied to her. “Take your receipt, ma’am.”

She collected the receipt but looked up suddenly, her eyes wide open.

“How did you recharge up to this amount? When you already know that I only wash my car twice a week,” she almost snapped at the boy.

“Not again, ma’am,” the boy said. “You complained about this last week, and I collected the normal rate because, according to you, you weren't aware of our new price list. I made sure to tell you about it then, and you told me you would have it in mind when coming again.”

“Now, you’re back here again to complain,” the boy said, getting angry.

“Sorry, dear. I forgot again,” Belinda apologized to the boy as she took her card and receipt to the washing lot.