The Ex (18+ Only) [COMPLETED]

PROLOGUE: In Which She Gets What's Hers

PROLOGUE: In Which She Gets What’s Hers

*****************************

“She can have the house in St. Tropez. I don’t have much use for it,” Konstantin said to my lawyer, in a move he imagined to be philanthropic generosity.

I scowled at him. “And neither do I. What use could I possibly have for a whorehouse?”

Penny, my lawyer and friend gently patted my arm and whispered in my ear, “Don’t let him get under your skin and make you say something you’ll regret, Francesca.”

Konstantin shot me a warning look before his face became impassive, stone. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’ve never been unfaithful to you, Frankie?” His words were slow, measured and each one nipped at my skin.

“When it becomes the truth,” I spat, then took a deep breath, collecting myself. “I don’t want the stupid beach house.” I paused. “I want the manor.”

I watched as my soon-to-be ex-husband’s face clouded over and his granite-grey eyes blazed with cold fury. “Absolutely not.”

How many times had those eyes raked over my naked body in heated passion? How many times had they scorched me with fiery desire? And how many times had they been the last things I saw at night and the first I saw each morning?

Now they looked at me with open distaste.

“I’m not asking for half your money, or any shares in your company, or anything, Konstantin,” I said defiantly, wanting to leap across the table and wring his neck at his obstinacy. “The manor is special to me. It’s where I was happiest.”

Konstantin’s lawyer, a scrawny bald-headed man called Chester Winston, quickly murmured into his client’s ear but Konstantin was never one for discreetness.

“Whose side are you on, Winston?” he growled loudly, glaring at the smaller man. “I am not releasing that house.”

“Against my advice, my client is willing to walk away from this marriage with nothing but Abernathy Manor,” Penny said quietly but firmly. “Your client, Mr. Winston, would do kindly to consider her generous gesture by the close of business tomorrow.”

“I’ve considered it,” Konstantin said furiously, his eyes trained on me, “and my answer is no.”

“Mr. Kouriakis –” Chester began.

“Francesca,” said Konstantin, using my full name, “may we speak outside?”

“I highly advise against it,” Penny chided, receiving yet another dirty look from Konstantin.

“And I highly advise you keep that motor mouth of yours shut, Ms. Patterson.”

I knew exactly what would happen if Konstantin Kouriakis took me to “speak outside” but I found myself shakily getting to my feet and leading the way out the stuffy boardroom of Penny’s law firm and into the empty carpeted hallway. Closing the door behind us and effectively shutting our respective lawyers inside, Konstantin fixed his stare on me.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His voice was hard and menacing, just like his stance.

“I refuse to be intimidated by you,” I replied, stepping away from him and contradicting those very words. The smell of his Old Spice was already beginning to make me lightheaded and weak-hearted.

“Intimidated?” he said in disbelief, closing the space between us in one step. He tilted my chin upwards with one finger. “Are we enemies, agapi mou?”