HIS STRIPPER, HIS WIFE novel Chapter 135

Chapter one hundred and thirty five

Bianca

100

55 vouchers

After that call, I didn’t tell Adrian, I thought about it more than once, the message half typed a few times before I deleted it again. I didn’t want to hand him one more thing to worry about, not when I wasn’t even sure where we stood anymore or even sure if telling him would make him pull me closer or push me further

away.

I spent the rest of that day pretending to work and by evening, I had already replied to the number on the back of the note that was scribbled under the single letter V, and arranged to meet her.

I picked a hotel lobby uptown, the type of place where nobody would dare raise their voice with enough people around that whatever Victoria was planning, she couldn’t try anything reckless. I wasn’t stupid enough to meet her somewhere private, not when I didn’t know exactly what kind of person I was dealing with.

I got there five minutes early, I was in my best work outfit, paired with kitten heels, my hair was pulled back neat, my face done just enough to look put together and not like someone who had spent half the night staring at her ceiling running worst case scenarios in her head.

I picked a seat that faced the entrance, one of those low velvet chairs arranged around a glass table, and I sat down. A waiter came by and asked if I wanted anything and I asked for water.

I checked my phone twice in those five minutes, not because I expected anything, but because it gave my eyes somewhere to go that wasn’t the door. There was still no message from Adrian and it was honestly beginning to make me sick.

At exactly the time we agreed on, Victoria walked in. She was dressed simply, at least by her popular standard, a cream colored dress, her hair falling in loose waves that looked expensive even from a distance. I wouldn’t even lie, her makeup was flawless, had sunglasses pushed up into her hair and a small clutch tucked under one

arm.

She spotted me before I could pretend I hadn’t already been staring, and she smiled. “What a fake smile.” I thought as she crossed the lobby, walking towards where I was sitting.

“Bianca,” she said, stopping in front of the empty chair across from me. “You actually came. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“You didn’t exactly leave me many options,” I said without looking up.

She lowered herself into the chair across from me, crossing one leg over the other, and I finally looked up to her.

“You look nice,” she said, her eyes moving slowly from my blazer down to my shoes and back up again, “Very corporate, very put together, it’s almost hard to picture you the other way.”

“Silly sickhead.” I said in my mind. I didn’t take the bait. I wasn’t going to sit here and let her pull me into some conversation that I wasn’t ready to have. I folded my hands on my lap instead and waited for her to continue talking.

A waiter appeared beside her, and she ordered something with a name too long and too French for me to

TRIPLER HIS WIFE

65 vozichem

Chapter one hundred and thirty five

Bianca

After that call, I didn’t tell Adrian, I thought about it more than once, the message half typed a few times. before I deleted it again. I didn’t want to hand him one more thing to worry about, not when I wasn’t even sure where we stood anymore or even sure if telling him would make him pull me closer or push me further

away.

I spent the rest of that day pretending to work and by evening, I had already replied to the number on the back of the note that was scribbled under the single letter V, and arranged to meet her.

I picked a hotel lobby uptown, the type of place where nobody would dare raise their voice with enough people around that whatever Victoria was planning, she couldn’t try anything reckless. I wasn’t stupid enough to meet her somewhere private, not when I didn’t know exactly what kind of person I was dealing with.

I got there five minutes early, I was in my best work outfit, paired with kitten heels, my hair was pulled back neat, my face done just enough to look put together and not like someone who had spent half the night staring at her ceiling running worst case scenarios in her head.

I picked a seat that faced the entrance, one of those low velvet chairs arranged around a glass table, and I sat down. A waiter came by and asked if I wanted anything and I asked for water.

I checked my phone twice in those five minutes, not because I expected anything, but because it gave my eyes somewhere to go that wasn’t the door. There was still no message from Adrian and it was honestly beginning to make me sick.

At exactly the time we agreed on, Victoria walked in. She was dressed simply, at least by her popular standard, a cream colored dress, her hair falling in loose waves that looked expensive even from a distance. I wouldn’t even lie, her makeup was flawless, had sunglasses pushed up into her hair and a small clutch tucked under one

arm.

She spotted me before I could pretend I hadn’t already been staring, and she smiled. “What a fake smile.” I thought as she crossed the lobby, walking towards where I was sitting.

“Bianca,” she said, stopping in front of the empty chair across from me. “You actually came. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“You didn’t exactly leave me many options,” I said without looking up.

She lowered herself into the chair across from me, crossing one leg over the other, and I finally looked up to

her.

“You look nice,” she said, her eyes moving slowly from my blazer down to my shoes and back up again, “Very corporate, very put together, it’s almost hard to picture you the other way.”

“Silly sickhead.” I said in my mind. I didn’t take the bait. I wasn’t going to sit here and let her pull me into some conversation that I wasn’t ready to have. I folded my hands on my lap instead and waited for her to continue talking.

A waiter appeared beside her, and she ordered something with a name too long and too French for me to

1/3

8.47 Tue, Aug 25

STRIPPER. HIS WIFE

:

catch properly, waving him off with barely a glance in his direction.

100

65 vouchers

When he left, she folded her hands neatly on the table, mirroring my own posture almost mockingly, and tilted her head slightly.

“I have to say,” she said, “I expected you to be more nervous. Most people are, when they get a package like the

one I sent.”

“Would being nervous change anything?” I asked.

Her smile widened just slightly. “No. But it would have been more satisfying.”

I felt my stomach tighten, but I kept my face still, refusing to give her the reaction she was clearly fishing for. The waiter returned with her drink, and she took a slow sip before setting it down, taking her time.

“Bianca, you could have just told Adrian.” I screamed in my mind, the irritation from watching her was getting too much for the me.

“You must be wondering why I even bothered with all this,” she said finally, her eyes never leaving mine.

I held her gaze, refusing to let anything in my expression give her the satisfaction of seeing me rattled, even though I could still feel the fear in me somewhere.

“Let’s go straight to the point, what do you want?” I asked.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify