Chapter 53

53

Roxi

Roxi inhaled so deeply, it made her lungs burn. She pulled on the ring of an iron knocker. Hurry up, hurry up, she whispered, knowing time wasn’t on her side. Twenty-three minutes remained before her window of opportunity closed. Eventually she heard footsteps descending what sounded like a wooden staircase before the front door opened.

‘Hello,’ said Antoinette Cooper, her tone soft and her smile friendly.

Roxi took in her appearance. Her troll must be at least twenty years her senior, but she carried it well. Her eyes were hazel-coloured and above her plump lips there were faint diagonal creases. Roxi’s sharp nose for scents recognized Chanel perfume. That, coupled with the fitted cut of her trousers, blouse, matching Tiffany necklace and bracelet all suggested she was someone who appreciated timeless, classic design. To Roxi’s relief, she wore no wearable technology. Roxi’s line of sight moved over Cooper’s shoulder and into the hallway but failed to locate anything recordable.

Cooper’s smile began to fade and her brow wrinkled as she awaited a response from the stranger on her doorstep.

‘Why . . . why are . . . why . . .’ began Roxi, suddenly tongue-tied. This was a huge mistake, she thought. By confronting her husband’s mistress, she thought she was controlling the narrative but now she feared it might backfire. It might hasten any plans she and Owen had, and Roxi had yet to find a way to protect her career and her assets.

Since she and Owen’s heart-to-heart over dinner, which had culminated in sex on the dining table, Roxi had pulled out all the stops to remind him why he’d first fallen in love with her. Sex, attention, food, family time, more sex . . . she was giving him everything she thought he wanted. Only it wasn’t enough to stop those Wednesday night encounters with his lover.

After more sleepless nights and personal insults left by Cooper on social media channels, Roxi reached the end of her tether. Her civil servant contact had revealed to her a little-known glitch in some older models of hardware installed with Audite software. She could trick her wearable tech, which also fed into her carpool vehicle’s onboard computer. A specific thirty-seven digit and symbol code inputted into a burner phone followed by her Smart watch’s serial number meant all recordings and even her location would be rerouted to the untraceable burner phone and the information not saved or analysed by Audite’s software. But it only lasted for a period of twenty-seven minutes. After that, the system would suspect something untoward and report the user to the relevant authorities. This time, Roxi wasn’t wearing any cameras to record her confrontation. This was even too personal for her to make public.

‘Is everything all right?’ Cooper asked, her face marked with concern.

A tightness formed in Roxi’s gut. How dare you? How dare you pretend to care about a stranger after all you’ve put me through! It snapped her out of her inactivity.

‘Why are you trying to ruin everything for me?’ Roxi began.

‘Do we know each other?’ Cooper replied and took a step back.

‘I think you’re probably more familiar with my husband, Owen.’

Cooper’s face tightened as the penny dropped. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I know exactly what you are doing with my husband, and it stops now.’

Cooper’s eyes shifted to the view behind Roxi.

‘What’s wrong?’ Roxi continued. ‘Scared the neighbours will learn what kind of woman you are? Well, you should be; you’re old enough to be Owen’s mother. You should know better.’

‘Would you like to come inside so we can discuss this privately?’

Cooper positioned her back to the door. Roxi hesitated: she hadn’t expected an invitation. Tentatively she crossed enemy lines and closed the door behind her.

Roxi took in her surroundings. The hallways smelled like cotton and orchids. A wooden staircase led to a brightly lit landing, a stained-glass window was positioned at the end of the corridor and cornices and plaster mouldings framed an ornate ceiling. This immaculate home was yet another reason to hate Cooper.

‘Look at the life you have here. You could have anyone you wanted. Why pick on my husband? Is he your Match?’

‘No!’

‘Then why does he come to your house?’

‘This isn’t a conversation I want to have with you.’

‘And why are you trolling me?’

Cooper’s eyebrows lifted. ‘I’m not.’

‘There’s an account set up in your name and registered to this address.’

‘I don’t know anything about that.’

‘Are you married?’

‘Not that it’s any of your business but I’m widowed.’

‘That makes sense. Look at the size of this place, it must cost a fortune to run. But if you remarry, your bills will be more than halved, won’t they? And what about me and the kids? I assume Owen’s told you he has children.’

‘I am aware of your current marital situation,’ said Cooper.

‘After today you’re never going to see Owen again. Do you hear me?’

Cooper cleared her throat. ‘That’s not for you to decide, Mrs Sager,’ she said with an air of finality. ‘That’s up to your husband and me. When you return home, I suggest you sit down and talk to Owen and then perhaps we can all have an adult conversation and come to some sort of arrangement of where we go from here. Until then, please leave my house.’

Cooper began to open the door but Roxi folded her leg behind her and kicked it shut.

The last time Roxi had been involved in a physical altercation was with the biological child of foster parents she’d been placed with when she was nine. The girl had deliberately tripped her over then laughed as she’d fallen onto a railway sleeper, cutting her lip and chipping a tooth. Roxi had slapped her so hard that the imprint of her hand across the girl’s cheek could be seen late into the night when social services had arrived to take Roxi away. Today, a similar rage tugged at her. And, with all her strength, she shoved Cooper in the chest.

She clearly took her rival by surprise as Cooper had no time to turn and cushion her fall. Instead, she dropped backwards like a felled tree, only stopping when the bones in her neck impacted against the exposed bottom wooden stair and fractured, with a sickening crack.

A moment later and Roxi was left standing over the dead body of her husband’s mistress.