“The two of you back together now?” Cyrus sat in the chair and rested one shiny black shoe on his knee, patiently waiting for an answer.
She didn’t know how to respond. Part of her wanted to thrust a lie in his face and tell him she was romantically involved with Roland, but another part of her worried about the repercussions.
Roland sat down, too, and cleared his throat, no doubt as uncomfortable as she was in this awkward situation.
Cyrus followed up with another question, this time directed at Roland. “You know we’re still married, don’t you?”
Roland nodded. “I do. But I also know she wants a divorce.”
Cyrus’s eyes returned to Daniella. He pinned her with a dark stare and she fought the urge to squirm. “She’s not getting one. No matter what means she uses to try to get it.”
The way he looked at her sent a trickle of nervous energy down her spine. Did he know about the investigator?
“I was going to save this for another time, but since we’re all here together, why not do it now? I have to give you credit for trying, by the way.” That’s when she knew for sure he’d found out about the P.I. and her stomach dropped in dismay. “My driver noticed a dark sedan around more often than not. By the way, your investigator made a good choice, using a nondescript vehicle, but it wasn’t good enough. The driver I usually use is former special forces, so he pays attention to details in a way most people don’t.” He pulled an envelope from his breast pocket, set it on the table, and pushed it toward her. “I received these today and planned to send them to you, but why delay?”
Daniella stared at the envelope, the nervousness in her gut intensifying.
“Go ahead, open it,” Cyrus prodded.
Carefully, Daniella opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of photos. Regrettably, the investigator who’d been following Cyrus over the past week could be seen in each one sitting in his car or snapping photos through the long lens of a camera. While he’d been watching them, they’d been watching him.
“Funny thing happened,” Cyrus continued, obviously enjoying himself. “We found out who he was working for. I thought he was another low life paparazzi, but imagine my surprise when he mentioned Davis Williams. It was easy enough to figure out this had to do with our divorce, and with a few more questions we found out all the details of your plan. Then I made the problem go away.”
Daniella shoved the pictures back in the envelope and dropped it on the table. “You paid him off.”
“It’s amazing what people will do when you quadruple their fee. Sad, isn’t it? The lack of ethics in today’s society.”
“And you exploit it.”
“It’s not my fault people can be bought.” He looked pointedly at Roland, who shifted uneasily in his chair. “How are things with your little software company?”
His condescension didn’t stop Roland’s chest from swelling with pride. “We secured an injection of cash thanks to a generous investor. We’re on our way to bigger and better things, and our software will change the world.”
“Is that right? You made good use of the million dollars I gave you after all. I had my doubts.”
“Stop it,” Daniella said, embarrassed for Roland.
“It’s inventory tracking software, isn’t it?” Cyrus asked. Something about the tone of his voice gave Daniella the distinct impression Cyrus already knew the answers to his questions.
“Yes. It’ll aid manufacturers and retailers in communicating better than ever. We’re about to change Just-In-Time into In-The-Moment.” He sounded proud of his accomplishments, and he should be. He’d worked hard for years to get to this point.
“I’m happy for you, but I thought I told you to stay away from my wife.”
“That’s enough,” Daniella hissed. “Do you have to be so rude?”
“I paid him a million dollars. Despite my wealth, a million dollars is not a little bit of money.”