CHAPTER 127: CHAPTER 127 DARK SECRETS

Howard’s POV

"Mom, it’s impossible that you live just to ruin my plans!" Ella shouted at her mother, who was curled up in bed.

"Ella, please lower your voice. My head is splitting," Diane whispered, her face pale and drawn.

"I don’t care about your head! You’re always doing this!" Ella stormed out of the room.

I looked up from my phone when Ella stomped into the living room. Her face was twisted with anger.

"What’s wrong now?" I asked, setting my phone down.

Ella dropped onto the couch beside me. "Daddy, Mom refuses to go wedding dress shopping with me."

"She’s sick, Ella."

"She’s been ’sick’ for three days! The appointment is tomorrow. The designer won’t reschedule again."

I sighed. Ella had been planning this wedding for days. "Ask Linda to go with you instead."

"I already tried. Mom won’t give me the card. Says it has to be her."

"I put the money in her account yesterday."

"Talk to her, Daddy. Please?" Ella’s eyes watered.

I stood up. "Wait here."

The bedroom was dark when I entered. Diane lay there like she was dying. I flicked on the lamp.

"Jesus, Howard. Turn that off." She covered her eyes.

I ignored her, yanking open drawers and searching through her purse. "Where’s the card? Ella needs to go tomorrow."

"No." Diane’s voice was surprisingly firm. "I’m going with her. Next week."

"This designer won’t reschedule again. Give me the damn card."

"I said no." Diane pushed herself up, wincing. "She’s not going without me."

I slammed the drawer shut. "Diane, don’t start this. I’ve already given you the money."

"And I said no!" Her voice rose despite her obvious pain. "Do you know why I can’t go with her? Why I’m stuck in this bed?"

"You caught a cold. Stop being dramatic."

Diane laughed—a harsh, bitter sound. "A cold? Is that what you think?You were with your mistress yesterday afternoon, weren’t you? In her bed?"

My blood went cold. "Keep your voice down."

"Afraid Ella might hear that her father is a cheating bastard?" Diane’s eyes flashed. "We’re mates, Howard. Every time you fuck someone else, I feel like I’m being torn apart from the inside. You know this. Every. Single. Time."

"This isn’t about us." I moved closer, lowering my voice."This is about Ella’s wedding."

"Everything is connected!" Diane hissed. "I’m in this bed because you couldn’t keep it in your pants. I felt every thrust, Howard. Every single one. Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

"It’s been ten years," I snapped. "If you can’t satisfy me..."

"We’re bonded!Forever! You think I wanted this pain? To feel your betrayal physically every time?"

I grabbed her arm. "Give me the card."

"No." She yanked free. "And if you give her money to buy that dress without me, I’ll make sure Draven gets those documents."

My grip tightened on her wrist. "What documents?"

Her smile was cold. "The ones about his parents’ ’accident.’ The recording of you admitting you hired those rogues to ambush them. All because Alpha Henry was getting too close to your embezzlement scheme."

"You wouldn’t dare."

"Try me." She pulled her arm free. "I may be your mate, Howard, but I stopped being your doormat years ago. Those documents are with someone I trust completely. If anything happens to me, they go straight to Draven."

"You vindictive bitch."

"I learned from the best." She lay back down. "Now get out. Your daughter will buy her dress with me next week. And Howard? The next time you feel like visiting your whore’s bed, remember I feel every second of your betrayal."

I stormed out, slamming the door. Diane had me cornered. She’d been cleverer than I’d given her credit for, stealing those documents and recording our conversation.

For years I’d thought she was oblivious,the perfect submissive mate,until she revealed she knew everything.

The investigator I hired hadn’t found anything.Whoever had those documents was careful. And I couldn’t just kill Diane, she’d made sure a letter would point to me if she died.

Ella looked up expectantly when I returned to the living room.

"Your mother won’t budge," I said. "You’ll have to wait until next week."

"But Daddy..."

"No arguments, Ella." I reached for my phone. "I’ll transfer some money to your account instead. Go buy yourself something nice at the mall."

"How much?"

"Ten thousand. Will that help you wait a week?"

"I suppose." She stood up, already texting someone. "Thanks, Daddy."

As she walked away, I downed the whiskey I’d poured earlier.