Then he saw the photo. "You have got to be fucking kidding me." He said to himself as he picked it up off her coffee table and looked at it. Yes, this was his mistress, actually ex-mistress. He wasn't truthful with Abigail because he knew she wouldn't understand. This would have to be straightened out as soon as he figured out how. However, it didn't elude him that this photo wasn't easy to come by.
These usually stayed in the papers overseas. He wasn't a high profile pursuit for the media so to find this in a local paper was impossible. He flipped it over and saw the Italian print on the back. Someone went through some trouble to get this just to make him look like a cheating bastard.
His stepmother came to mind, but he was certain he'd gotten his point across when she was last at his house. Not only that, he was certain she wouldn't go through so much trouble to discredit him to his fiancé without risking his father's anger.
He was sure that his Private Police Sect friend wouldn't have a problem pulling prints off of this. They hadn't found any on the original envelope but he was told that it had passed through a lot of hands and some of them were too smeared to identify. It was a dead end. He was staring at it when his phone rang.
"Ah hell." It had startled him. He pulled it out and cocked a brow seeing the number. "Hi, Molly." "Hi—I um—I just wanted to tell you that Abigail's house sold today." It took her a moment to catch her breath. The man even sounded drop-dead sexy over the phone with that deep baritone he possessed.
Also, he always sounded like he was in complete control of everything. It was interesting that the real estate agent hadn't contacted him over it. "I had lunch with the agent today. We went to school together." That explains it. He thought. "Thanks, Molly." "Is there any luck on your end?" "Yes." He said truthfully, "But if she calls you, don't tell her I've found her okay? It seems I have some explaining to do."
"Oh?" Molly didn't know what to do if Abigail asked her about Owen. She didn't think she could lie to her best friend. Owen sensed her hesitation, "Everything will turn out for the best. I still intend to marry Molly. I love her."
It was those words that made Molly promise him. It was the way he said them. They were very genuine. Although she lusted after Owen for years, Abigail was probably the only one that deserved him. She was as about as sweet and honest as they come and Molly knew she was lucky to have her as a friend. "Okay, Owen." "Thanks."
He hung up and continued his examination of her apartment. It was small but neat. The few meager things she had broken his heart. Then he saw the photo of the three of them. Abigail, Joseph and him. It was laying on the table next to her bed.
It was the same photo he held in his hand at her and Joseph's house when he was distraught over losing someone very close to him. Out of all the pictures, why did she keep this one? He loved that particular photo. They were all smiling and laughing in it. It was a great day. His phone rang again.