CHAPTER 96

ALEXANDER

“Who was that?” I asked again, watching the man in the gold suit take his sweet time before turning to stare at me dumbly, a light smirk playing on the full line of his lips.

I hadn't seen my wife since the night of our rendezvous, rushing into the party like I was freaking Lara croft raiding a gold-encrusted catacomb.

I had gotten sidetracked, in my search for who had invited Kayla Storm to the party, wading in the avalanche of files and employee records I had scattered across the marble-finished floor of my office study.

It was unbelievable, there were no records of the buxom dark-haired woman anywhere, not at the head office and not in the study!

There were no records of her anywhere, even after I’d cross-referenced her ID pictures on the web.

“Fucking hell,” I’d gasped, the mouse stiff under my palm as I sat, blanched as a washed-out olive skin, the plastic of the mouse cold under my palm as I looked at the white screen of the search engine.

The pressure that had built