Page 50 of Dirty Deadly & Mine
LILY: How so?
UNKNOWN: Don’t you want Ewan Marx to pay for what he did to you? For what he’s still doing to your family?
LILY: And what exactly is he doing?
UNKNOWN: Controlling them. Their entire lives. Making them his puppets. He’s not a good man, Lily. He has so many secrets no one knows about. Secrets that could destroy the empire he’s built. But then again. So do you. And so does your own father.
It doesn’t surprise me in the least that Ewan is still controlling everything. My uncle Ewan is a dictator. He rules over our family with an iron fist, and our lives aren’t our own.
Well… mine is. At least I thought it was until this person started sending these messages.
A pang of guilt twists my gut, making me feel a little nauseous at the thought of my brothers, sisters, and cousins all still being used as Ewan’s minions. But shit. They’re mostly all adults now. If they want to leave, they can. I know I brought shame to the family by not returning, but I couldn’t be a part of a world that controls my basic human rights.
Like having children with whoever I want.
I’m not sure what this person wants from me, but because I’m quite happy living here away from all of that bullshit, I can’t actually help him.
LILY: I’m sorry. I can’t help you. Please don’t contact me again.
UNKNOWN: You can help me, but I’ll give you more time… or incentive to work with me. If you want any help with your ex-husband, instead of fleeing on the back of your lover's motorcycle, just give me a call and I’ll take care of him. For good.
I stiffen.
A choked gasp flies from my lips, and my stomach twists with dread.
This person knows about me and Asher. And they’ve obviously been following me if they witnessed the incident with Alexander the other day.
This isn't good.
Needing some fresh air, I duck out the rear door into theback alley to get a few minutes to myself, and another gasp escapes me as I come face to face with Tamara Jones-Bennett. Alexander’s new wife.
“Why won’t you just help Alexander and tell the twins about Melanie?” she snaps, her stuck up accent just as cringy as her husband’s.
Sucking in a deep breath, I hope to find some calm to deal with this psycho bitch, but it doesn’t come.
“Hi, Tamara.” I roll my eyes, leaning against the brick wall. “Nice to see you, too.”
“Oh, cut the crap, Lily. We don’t do pleasantries, and you know it.”
Tamara is wearing designer clothes as usual. A lemon skirt suit, accessorised by rings galore on her fingers, and an ivory Louis Vuitton bag hanging from her wrist.
The urge to dirty her up is a little too overwhelming.
“Do you really need to be here?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ve already spoken with Alex about this and told him my answer.”
“It’s Alexander. You know he doesn’t like to be called Alex,” Tamara snaps, stepping too close for comfort, but I hide my discomfort with a smirk.
“Oh, I know.”
“You are insufferable. Honestly, what the hell did he ever see in you?”
“I’m guessing at the time when he cheated onyouwithme, he saw a nice, warmpussy.” I shrug and she gapes at me.
“Stop being ghastly.” She waves a dismissive hand at me, her bangles dangling with the movement. “Honestly, Lilian. You’re like a spoiled brat that never grew up.”
“Better than a stuck-up bitch that walks around with a pole stuck so far up her arse that?—”
SLAP!
