Suspicions
1145 Words
The elevator doors slid open with a quiet chime, and Emilia stepped onto the executive floor of Clark & Associates. The office hummed with quiet efficiency—phones ringing, assistants typing away, the scent of fresh coffee lingering in the air.
She moved toward her corner office, her mind still replaying the image of Bruce’s car outside the courthouse. He had no reason to be there. And yet, he had been watching.
As she stepped through the doorway, she immediately noticed him—leaning against her desk, scrolling through his phone, looking entirely too comfortable in her space.
Bruce glanced up, flashing that easy, charming smile. “There’s my star litigator.”
Emilia closed the door behind her, setting her bag down with measured precision. “Shouldn’t you be in a meeting?”
Bruce chuckled, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Meeting ended early. Thought I’d check in on my wife—see how the trial went.”
Her eyes flicked toward his phone. A meeting that ended early, yet he hadn’t texted or called beforehand. He had time to drive across town and park outside the courthouse, but not time to step in?
Her jaw tightened, but her expression remained cool. “It’s in deliberation. I did my job. Now we wait.”
Bruce nodded, stepping closer. “You always do. You know, we should celebrate once the verdict comes in. Just the two of us. It’s been a while.”
She lifted a brow. “Since when do we celebrate jury deliberations?”
His laugh was easy, practiced. “We don’t. But we should celebrate us.”
That was the moment it clicked.
She had been married to Bruce long enough to know his patterns—his carefully planned gestures, his effortless way of smoothing over cracks before they became fractures. And this? This wasn’t him being romantic. This was him trying to redirect.
Her gaze flicked over him, subtly scanning. His tie was loosened, but there was no real tension in his shoulders. No signs of a difficult meeting. And then there was the faint scent clinging to him—not his usual cologne, but something softer. Familiar.
Emilia’s stomach turned to ice.
Beth wears vanilla.
She forced herself to remain still, to keep her expression unreadable. “You know,” she said lightly, “I saw your car outside the courthouse.”
Bruce didn’t flinch, but she caught it—that half-second of hesitation.
“Did you?” he said smoothly. “I had a meeting nearby.”
She tilted her head, watching him with the same careful scrutiny she gave hostile witnesses. “With who?”
Another pause. Slight, but there. “Just a client.”
Emilia let the silence stretch between them, her gaze never leaving his. Bruce was a good liar—most men like him were. But she had spent her entire career dismantling testimonies built on deception.
And right now, he was testifying.
She tapped her fingers against the desk. “You should have stopped in. Edward was there. I’m sure he would’ve loved to see you.”
Bruce’s smile faltered. Barely. But it was enough.
“Maybe next time,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple.
She let him.
She even smiled as he pulled away.
But as he walked out the door, Emilia sat back in her chair, her mind already working.
Bruce was hiding something.
And she was going to tear his entire world apart to find out what.
#
Emilia didn’t waste time.
As soon as Bruce left her office, she pulled up her schedule and scanned for the perfect opportunity. It didn’t take long—Beth had a mid-morning report to drop off at Bruce’s office. Which meant she’d be walking right past Emilia’s door.
Right on cue, twenty minutes later, the rhythmic click of heels approached.
“Beth,” Emilia called smoothly before the assistant could pass.
Beth halted instantly, a polite smile snapping into place as she turned back. “Ms. Clark.”
Emilia leaned back in her chair, fingers steepled, observing her. Beth was always well put together—sleek ponytail, crisp white blouse tucked into a tailored skirt. Today was no different. But now, Emilia was looking closer.
Bruce’s cologne wasn’t on her.
But the vanilla scent was.
Emilia gestured to the seat across from her desk. “I need a word.”
Beth hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Of course.” She stepped inside, carefully shutting the door before taking a seat.
Emilia studied her for a beat, letting the silence settle, watching for any sign of discomfort. “Bruce was here earlier,” she said casually. “Said his meeting ended early.”
Beth didn’t blink. “Yes. It wrapped up ahead of schedule.”
Emilia tilted her head. “Where was it again?”
This time, the pause was there. Quick, subtle—but Emilia caught it.
“I believe it was near Madison,” Beth answered smoothly.
A vague location. A careful choice of words.
Emilia hummed. “You believe?”
Beth’s hands remained folded in her lap, but Emilia noticed the slight shift—the tightening of her fingers, the way her nails pressed into her palm.
“That’s what he mentioned to me,” Beth said lightly. “But I wasn’t involved.”
A non-answer.
Emilia let her expression remain unreadable as she nodded, shifting the conversation effortlessly. “I was actually meaning to ask—how are you finding things here? It’s been, what, over a year since you joined?”
Beth blinked at the change in topic but recovered fast, offering a small smile. “Almost two years now. Time flies.”
“Mm. And you like working with Bruce?”
Beth’s smile didn’t falter, but Emilia caught the flicker of something in her eyes. “Of course. He’s a great boss.”
Boss. Not partner. Not mentor. Boss.
Emilia allowed a slow smile to form, tilting her head as if in thought. “Good,” she murmured. “I’d hate to lose someone so… valuable to him.”
Beth’s lips parted slightly, as if considering a response, but before she could say anything, Emilia shifted, glancing at her computer. “That’ll be all.”
A clear dismissal.
Beth hesitated—only for a second—before standing. “Of course. Let me know if you need anything else.”
Emilia didn’t respond, only listening to the sound of Beth’s retreating footsteps.
The assistant hadn’t given her much.
But she had given her enough.
Emilia reached for her phone, her fingers dialing a number she hadn’t used in a while. When the call connected, a deep voice answered.
“It’s been a minute, Clark.”
Emilia’s lips curved into a smirk. “I need eyes on my husband.”
#
- Writer
