That One Time by Aja Foxx

Chapter Eight

~ Frank ~

 

I signed the last contract I needed to sign and then closed the folder my secretary had given me. It was after hours and I'd been working late tonight to try and get some extra work done so I could spend tomorrow with Henry. Besides, he was studying with Ryan and wasn't expected home until around ten or so.

Home, that had taken on a whole new meaning over the last month. For one—and by far the most important thing—Henry was now living with me. Technically, he hadn't officially moved in, but more and more of his stuff was appearing in our suite every day and he spent every night in my arms. I was hoping to convince him to move in the last of his stuff as soon as the semester was over and his lease ran out.

I glanced up when my door slammed open and then shot to my feet. "What is he doing here?" I asked my brother.

Stewart had been kicked out a few days after propositioning me in my bedroom. As far as I knew, Martino had filed for divorce and hadn't seen him since, so I had no idea why they were together now.

Martino held up his hand. "Just listen."

My nostrils flared with anger as I glanced at Stewart.

Stewart eyes me like a lion to a lamb. "I have evidence that your precious little fiancé isn't as sweet and innocent as you'd like to believe."

"Bullshit!" I snapped.

"No, he's right, Frank," Martino said before glancing at his soon-to-be ex-husband. "Show him the texts you showed me."

I frowned when Stewart pulled out a cell phone with a rainbow cover. I instantly recognized the colorful cover. "Why do you have Henry's cell phone?" I'd bought Henry a new one when he lost his about a week ago. I guess now I knew what had happened to it.

"Just look." Stewart handed me Henry's phone. The message app was open.

My heart started to sink as I began reading through Henrys messages. I knew Henry wouldn't be unfaithful to me, but it would be hard to explain these texts.

 

Ryan: I got it.

Henry: Seriously?

Ryan: Yep, I'm holding it in my hot little hand.

Henry: Oh man, I love you so much right now.

* * * *

Henry: Can you come over? Frank just left. We have the whole night.

Ryan: I'll be right over.

Henry: Don't forget your clothes.

* * * *

Ryan: Does he suspect anything?

Henry: No.

Ryan: When are you going to tell him?

Henry: I'm afraid to tell him.

Ryan: You need to tell him.

* * * *

Ryan: Either tell him or I will.

Henry: He's going to be so mad.

Ryan: Probably, but you have to tell him.

Henry: I will, I promise.

Ryan: Soon, Henry, or I will.

Henry: I said I'd tell him and I will.

 

I tossed Henry's phone on the desk. "This doesn't mean anything."

"Frank!" Martino shouted. "He's fucking around on you with that study buddy of his."

"No, he's not," I said vehemently, although I wasn't positive of it anymore. Those texts were pretty damning.

"I have more proof," Stewart said, "but it's going to cost you."

"You're lying and trying to get money out of me because you got booted out on your ass for making a pass at me."

"I might be mad at you, but I'm not lying. Of course, I didn't expect you to believe me so I have a sample of my evidence." Stewart pulled a picture out of his jacket pocket and tossed it down onto the desk. "If you want the rest of them, it's going to cost you."

I was surprised I kept my hand from shaking as I reached for the picture. Once I looked at it, I wanted to scream and rage. I wanted to wrap my fingers around Henry's lying little neck and squeeze and then I wanted to rip his heart out like he was doing to me.

There was no mistaking the way Ryan was holding Henry as anything other than a lover's embrace. He looked as if he was getting ready to kiss Henry. Neither man had their shirts on, leaving me with no doubt what they were about to do.

I looked up. "How much?"

"Five million dollars."

I knew my voice was cold and lifeless by the crinkle in Martino's brow. I just couldn't help it. I felt dead inside. "Will a wire transfer do?"

"Yes." Stewart held out a piece of paper with his account number on it.

I sat down at my desk and opened my banking page so I could type in the information needed to transfer the money to Stewart's account.

"Frank," Martino said, "maybe you should talk to Henry before you do this. There could be a plausible explanation."

"If you expect to reach Henry right now, you should know he's not studying, but he is with Ryan. I went by his apartment on my way here and they were just leaving."

I ignored my brother and Stewart, kept typing, and then hit enter. "There it's done. Now give me the evidence."

Stewart glanced down at his phone, tapped a couple of buttons, and then smiled before reaching into his jacket to pull out a small manila envelope. I took it and opened it, dumping the contents out on the desk.

More pictures.

I glanced up at Stewart. "Get out, and if I see you here again, I'll have you arrested for trespassing."

Stewart smirked. "I got what I wanted."

He turned and walked out of the room, the door shutting behind him.

I picked up the first picture in the stack. It was another picture of Ryan holding Henry, only this time, Henry was laughing. There were shots of him stretched out on the sofa at his apartment, his head in Ryan's lap, shots of them eating together, and one where Ryan's head was resting against Henry's.

So many pictures and each one more damning than the last one.

The one that killed any hope that this was all wrong was the one of the two of them in Henry's bed together, both naked. Henry was sitting behind Ryan with his arms wrapped around him, one hand on Ryan's chest. I could see my grandfather's ring bright as day on the hand Henry had wrapped around Ryan's dick.

"What are you going to do?" Martino asked.

"What I am not going to do is marry that fucking little gold digger."

"You don't know that he was after your money, Frank. This might not even have anything to do with money. Maybe...maybe they just sort of fell in love or something."

Oh, that was so much better.

"Fine, then they can be in love somewhere else." I stuffed all the pictures and Henry's phone into the envelope and then reached for my suit coat. I tucked the envelope into the pocket before pulling it on.

"Frank, look, I know this looks damning, but maybe you should talk to Henry before you do something rash. You're hurt right now and not thinking with a clear head."

"My head is perfectly clear," I said as my anger became a scalding fury.

I knew exactly what I needed to do.

 

* * * *

~ Henry ~

 

"It's going to be fine, Henry."

I wasn't so sure of that. "We never discussed this, Ryan. Frank is going to flip."

I knew I was and I'd had a couple of hours to grow used to the idea.

"Just tell him, Henry. I'll bet you'll be surprised by his reaction."

Oh, I had no doubt, but I was still convinced that Frank was going to flip. Neither of us had planned on this. Not really.

"You never know what's going to happen until you talk to Frank. When you get home, take him upstairs to your bedroom, sit him on the bed, and tell him."

"Yeah." I knew I had no other choice. "I'll call you tomorrow to tell you how it went."

"Call me tonight if you need me."

"Thanks." I was really hoping that I wouldn't. "I need to go. I'm almost home."

"Talk to you tomorrow."

I clicked the button on the steering wheel to disconnect my phone. That was one of many features my new car had. I was still trying to learn them all. I was pretty sure it was going to take me awhile. This thing practically cooked me dinner.

When I reached the family estate, I pulled up in front of the gates and hit the unlock button. When they slowly swung open, Frank's father was standing there. I frowned at the glower on the man's face before turning off the engine and climbing out of the vehicle.

"Papa, is everything okay?" I didn't understand the rigid set of the man's jaw as he walked toward me and held out an envelope. "What's going on?" I glanced toward the house. "Where's Frank?"

"You will never see my son again."

My head snapped around as I gasped. "What are you talking about?"

"We know what you did, Henry, and I am very disappointed in you. I thought you truly loved my son, but you had us all fooled, didn't you? I must say, you are a very good actor. You might want to consider that as a career instead of business."

I admit I was hurt by Bellino's words, but I was more concerned with what the man was accusing me of. "What do you think that I did?"

"I know what you did, Henry. I've seen the evidence with my very own eyes."

Ryan was right. I should have told Frank that I had dented my brand new car. "Okay, so I didn't tell Frank about the dent, but that is no reason to—"

"You think this is about some little dent?" Bellino barked at me.

I took a quick step back, afraid of the man for the very first time. "Papa—"

"You no longer have the right to call me by that name. You may address me as Mr. Galeazzi."

I swallowed past the bile rising in my throat and tried again. "If that's what you want, Mr. Galeazzi. I—"

"What I want is for you to go away and never come back. What I want is for my son to forget he ever met you. What I want...What I want is for you to suffer the same pain and anguish you are putting Francesco through."

Tears flooded my eyes when I realized this was no joke, and it wasn't about the dent in the car. I still didn't understand what was going on, though. "Mr. Galeazzi, please, if you would just let me talk to Frank—"

"Like I said, you will never speak to my son again."

"I need to speak to him."

"It's not going to happen. I've already removed your access to the estate. If you step one foot on it, you will be arrested for trespassing."

"But—"

Bellino snapped his fingers. Bertram walked forward with two duffle bags. He set them on the ground at my feet and then turned and walked back inside the estate grounds.

"I took the liberty of having all of your belongings packed for you," Bellino said before waving the envelope at me. "This is five thousand dollars. It should be enough to get you set up somewhere."

I smacked the envelope away. "I don't want your money." My voice was high and shrill, desperate. "I want to talk to Frank!"

I shivered a little at Bellino's expression of anger and hatred. "Go now," the man snapped, "go before I am forced to call the police."

"Let me talk to Frank!"

Bellino ignored me. He picked up the envelope and tucked it into one of my bags before turning and walking back through the open gate. I started to run after him, but four very large, very armed men stepped between us.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as the gates closed with a heavy and ominous clank. I couldn't believe this was happening. I still didn't know what I was supposed to have done. No one would tell me, which meant I had no way to defend myself.

I walked back to my car and climbed inside. I swallowed the despair in my throat and picked up my phone. I dialed Frank's number, but the phone message said I had been blocked. I tried messaging him. It wouldn't send. I called the main house, but my number had been blocked there, too.

I didn't know who else to call so I just sat there. I'd sit there until morning when someone came out—hopefully Frank—and I could get inside. I'd be damned if I gave up without a fight.

More tears flooded my eyes and slid down my cheeks as I covered my abdomen with my hand. I wasn't the only one I was fighting for.