Lured into Lies by Melanie Martins
Chapter 2
Alexander Van Dieren
The last thing I need is for Petra to start insisting on knowing my past. And yet, what if she persists to a point that it starts to compromise our relationship? She’s so freaking stubborn and curious that I’ve got no idea how far she’ll go in order to know about that incident.
Sitting at the terrace table with Ryan and his legal team, who have been working all day long on a defense against the guardianship case that Tess brought up, I contemplate every aspect of telling Petra the truth or not. “Ryan, may I have a word, please?” I glance at his two colleagues, and Ryan gives them the okay to leave the terrace and work elsewhere. Once we are finally left alone, I ask, “What would be the legal implications of telling Petra what happened twenty years ago?”
“None,” he answers straight away. “At least, that I’m aware of.” He leans back in his chair, considering me. “You know what I think about this whole thing, right?”
I tilt my head to the side, my eyes squinting at him for answering with another question.
Ryan exhales loudly, pulling his chair closer to me. “Look, what you did is what we’d consider in New York a Class C violent felony. It was an accident, and that means it would’ve been easily resolved in court. You’d have paid a fine, maybe serve a year or two under house arrest, and that would’ve been the end of it.”
I nod at him, now remembering our talk dating back seventeen years ago when he became my lawyer for some random shit that happened with a model who tried to sue me. The case was settled pretty smoothly, and Ryan gained my trust from that point on. After all, his expertise in criminal defense and negotiating settlements is equal to none. “Maybe in the Netherlands it’d have been different, but I don’t think hiding the body and keeping quiet was the best decision in the long run.”
“The problem was not even with me but Roy, his job, his reputation…” I shake my head at how stupid I was for caring so much about him. “I mean, I didn’t want to cause more troubles in his marriage, plus he was my dad's protégé…” I tell Ryan, but it’s mostly just to reassure myself.
“I know it was messy,” he replies. “I understand that. If you want to tell Petra the truth, by all means go ahead, but remember, Roy did the same with Tess, and look where it led him—she is now blackmailing him.”
“Petra is not like her,” I snap instantly, my fist clenching out of reflexive defense.
“Not for now…” Ryan pauses, his gaze studying me for a moment. “But you are still giving away info that can compromise you. It’s a confession, after all—a confession she can always use against you one day or another.”
I remain silent, knowing all too well the number of people who have been in trouble for sharing important secrets with their spouses. After all, that’s how Mom managed to kick Dad out of his own company. And now Tess is doing the same with Roy. Yet twenty years ago, I truly thought they were the perfect couple—a true inspiration. Each time Tess would come to a social gathering, Roy would always have that glitter in his eye as he watched her speak. I genuinely thought they were meant to last through the tests of time.
But maybe that’s how every marriages starts… with a naive feeling of bliss and happiness. Until routine settles in, then comes the monotony, the boredom, the lack of excitement, the kids, and then having to live with the flaws of the other person–flaws that become more and more visible and unbearable.Since the divorce of my parents, marriage never looked appealing to me. Heck, even when they were together, they never seemed to be in love. To me, their union seemed nothing more than a charade, done for the sake of gaining power and the ability to influence the two families. Roy and Tess had restored my faith in the institution for a while until they also got a divorce. Well, at least my sisters seem to be doing alright, except that they don’t share any of the shit they do to their own husbands. As I come to think of it… Is keeping secrets from each other the recipe for a successful marriage? After all, if Roy had never confessed to Tess all the things he had done, maybe they’d still be together, who knows? Petra doesn’t have anything to do with my past in the first place. Fuck, we are not even married, and yet she’s constantly making demands. Demands for me not to hunt, demands for me not to eat meat when she’s around, demands for me to tell her secrets from twenty years ago that she can one day use against me…
“Dinner is served,” the butler announces, walking onto the terrace.
“Shall we?” I blink twice, my eyes landing on Ryan, who’s now rising from his seat and getting ready to go.
As we get into the dining room, I shouldn’t be surprised to find Petra sitting beside my dad and engrossed in his conversation. A laugh erupts from her, and she looks totally smitten while he is busy probably telling her one of his many stories from around the globe, stories which are infamously filled with adventures and mystery. He really can’t help himself, can he?
I pull a chair and sit in front of her, while Ryan and his team sit beside me. To my surprise, Mona isn’t here, but I don’t ask him why. They both have their days, and I will be the last person on the planet to ask him about the details of his relationship.
As we wait for our starters to come, I notice Petra and Dad are sharing a pizza like two teenagers and are ignoring pretty much everyone else. This isn’t a family dinner; they are basically having their own dinner while we are having ours even though we’re sitting at the same table. I roll my eyes as Petra continues chuckling while she takes another slice of pizza. I can’t help but look at how her eyes are pinned on my dad. I’m not sure what he’s telling her, but she is totally fixated on him. A true pity Dad wasn’t as attentive with my sisters and I when we were her age.
The waiter finally puts the starter in front of me, and my mouth waters at the smell of the grilled shrimp. I can’t resist and check Petra’s face discreetly as I indulge myself in the shrimp salad. Looking up, I laugh under my breath at her frustrated face. No, this is not a vegetarian dish, my dear. And thank God it isn’t. If there is meat or fish on the menu, I’ll eat it with pleasure and delight. I can’t wait to see her angry face as I do so.
“Is everything alright?” my dad asks her, since she hasn’t stopped glaring at me since I began popping the tasty shrimp into my mouth.
A malicious smile settles on my lips as I say, “Petra is vegetarian, and to her, I’m committing a crime for eating shrimp in front of her.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.” Dad is clearly troubled by this, and instead of laughing, he takes it seriously and starts apologizing. “I will ask the chef to prepare something else.”
“Dad, I’m fine,” I interpose, barely believing he would go and ask the kitchen to bring me vegetarian food because my fiancée hates seeing me eating seafood in front of her. She has to get over it. “The food is great. Let the chef prepare what he wants.”
Petra doesn’t say a word, yet she frowns at me like she could throw bullets from her eyes. It’s supposed to look terrifying, but I find it cute and funny.
“Alright, then,” he mumbles, before looking back at her. “I apologize, Petra, tomorrow everyone will eat vegetarian.”
I skip a breath and press my lips tight to contain the urge to say something. Unbelievable… We can’t even eat what we want in this house? Why is he trying so much to please her?
Petra gives him a charming grin in return. I guess my dad would say or do anything to see that smile. Jeez, he barely knows her and is already treating her better than he treats me.
“You don’t mind eating vegetarian tomorrow, right?” he asks me, as if he truly cared about my opinion.
Her blue eyes align on me again, and she waits patiently for my answer. There are two options here: either giving them a piece of my mind about the subject, or scoring points with my fiancée. Well, call me a coward or wise, but I look at my dad and say, “Totally fine by me.”
* * *
I turn on the lights as I enter into the billiard room, and a bright smile settles on my lips as I recall all of the memories created here. I take in my surroundings, the smell of wooden furniture and old malt hitting my nose. Dad, Amanda, Mona and I used to spend a great amount of time here playing pool. In the whole island of Bermuda, this is definitely the place I have missed the most. As I come to think of it, no wonder Dad and Mona thought Amanda and I would last. We used to come here after dinner and spend the evening playing pool until we’d end up fucking on the table until dawn.
I notice the balls are already all placed in the triangular rack and positioned at the lower end of the table. I remove the rack, then take a cue and chalk the tip. With the cue in my hand, I get in position and angle myself to strike on the white ball. Before I can do so though, I feel my dad’s presence in the room, and my intuition confirms it as I hear him saying, “I see the habit of coming here after dinner never died…”
He then closes the door behind him, and I’m glad he does so, because then I ask, “Why didn’t Mona come to have dinner with us?” My eyes remain focused on the white ball as I point the tip of my cue on it. “Doesn’t she like seeing you indulging yourself with pizza while making another woman laugh?” And I strike the ball, which rolls across the table until hitting the ones in the middle, breaking the rack.
“What on earth are you talking about?” I turn and notice Dad doesn’t have a cue in his hands yet. So I go and get one for him, putting some chalk on the tip. “Oh, wait, you are jealous because your fiancée spent a good time with me and ignored you the whole dinner?” He chuckles inwardly, and I hate the sound of it. “Maybe if you stopped keeping things from her—”
“What happened twenty years ago belongs to the past,” I say, cutting him off. As silence settles in, I hand him the cue so that he can make his shot.
“And yet, it’s being used in the present to jeopardize your relationship with her,” he points out. “Why don’t you just tell her the truth once and for all?”
“Ryan advised me not to,” I explain briefly, analyzing the balls spread on the table to see which one I can pot first.
“Petra is not like your mother, she would understand…”
I go around the pool table, a bit impatient for him to make his shot. “I’ve come to the conclusion that telling her is a liability,” I reply. And since Dad doesn’t seem to care about the game, I position myself to make another strike, like I’m playing solo. I bend just enough, angle the stick and hit the ball, which strikes the number five and rolls all the way until it falls into a pocket. “Just like it was a liability for Roy to tell you and Tess.”
“Yet, I kept my mouth shut and have always helped you both,” he hisses back.
“Everyone has secrets of their own,” I tell him as I pace around the table. “Even Petra kept one from me until she couldn’t.” I take a stance, point the tip on the cue ball, and strike once more. “If she truly loves me, she will trust me on this and move on,” I add, my eyes on the ball number one, which stops inches from the pocket on the right corner.
Dad takes a few steps, and as he stands not too far from the cue ball, he takes a stance and finally takes his first shot. “I think you are making a big mistake, son.” The ball hits the number 10, which he pots instantly.
“Just because I want to keep her out of this?” I ask, looking at him. Suddenly, a realization washes over me. “Oh, I see. So she spoke to you about it?”
“I spoke to her. The poor girl spent the whole day alone, ruminating on what you have done and why you aren’t trusting her.” Oh, that would explain why Dad is on her side now.
“I’ll have a word with her later on,” I brush it off, trying to bring an end to the conversation.
But Dad doesn’t seem convinced, and he just exhales loudly in return before walking in my direction. Once he stands beside me, I notice how his expression is more serious and grave than usual. “Look, one day or another, Tess will press charges against you. And Roy won’t hesitate on throwing you under the bus to save himself. Have you thought about it?”
“He’s already doing it,” I tell him, breaking eye contact for a moment as I try to steady my emotions and give nothing away. Yet, I can’t help but say, “And his betrayal fucking hurts.”
As we look each other in the eye, there’s something that switches in him. “And you are afraid Petra will do the same one day or another?”
The question feels like a reality check, and while I’d love to tell him no, he knows it’d be bullshit. “Yeah…” I take a deep breath, pausing for moment. “I’ve made a lot of compromises for her. But telling her what happened twenty years ago is not one I’m ready for.”
Dad breaks eye contact and mumbles, “As you wish.” His attention then goes back to the pool table, and he goes around it before positioning himself. “Regarding Roy, if you need to use anything against him, I've got a file about him in my office.” As he strikes the ball, my jaw drops slightly, and I remain looking at him, totally astounded at his revelation.
“You are sharing Roy’s file with me?” I repeat, making sure I’ve heard him properly. Dad nods in return, and my eyes widen at the sight of it. “Wow. Now that’s surprising.” I mean, Dad has never shared compromising information about Roy to anyone, including me. After all, Roy was his protégé, his best and most loyal employee, and they always held the utmost respect for each other, despite Roy resigning to join me in starting our own firm. I know Dad used to hold compromising infos on everyone, but since he left the Netherlands, I had no idea he still had those files with him.
“Now, let’s make it clear; use it only if it’s strictly necessary,” he says, and his tone is grave enough for me to understand he’s not joking around.
“What is it about?” I ask instantly, just to make sure it’s what I think it is.
“Well, you know…” We share a look, and it’s enough to confirm what I had in mind. “But avoid using it. Petra will be devastated to know he was involved in this type of… well… fraternity.” A quick chuckle escapes me at the word my dad chose to describe a sex cult. “The girl doesn’t need more bad news in her life.” It’s incredible how he genuinely cares about my fiancée’s well-being, despite barely knowing her. She must have truly made an impact on him. And, despite everything, I’m quite glad she did.
“And you?” I ask, knowing exactly which “fraternity” he is talking about. “Are you still in it?” I clarify.
“I left everything when I lost everything,” Dad answers. “What about you?”
“I left too.”
“Good.”
As Dad gestures for me to make my shot, a small smile plays on my lips knowing it was the right the decision to have come here. Despite all of our previous arguments and disputes, I knew he’d help us. After all, I’m the only child he is still in touch with, and I know he’s eagerly waiting to go to my wedding.