Claimed By My Secret Husband

Chapter Three

Two Years Ago

Gerrard’s POV

I stand motionless, watching them both as they whisk around the dance floor, his hands on her body like they belong there.

I can't believe it’s her, she’s here! How?! How is she here and why is that asshole touching what is mine? Why is she letting him?

I can’t seem to make my feet move, it’s like they’ve become cemented to the floor, all I can do is stare until the tall man holding her, leans closer, his lips practically brushing her ear as he whispers something to her. Zoe’s smile is coy as she replies, and that intimate moment is what manages to get me moving.

I slip through the crowd, eyes pinned to my wife, forcing down the roar of jealousy and anger toward the other man, I assume she’s not told anyone that she belongs to someone else, that she’s mine.

I reach them, and reach out to tap the man’s shoulder, schooling my expression as I speak.

‘May I cut in?’ I ask, though my tone holds no question, I’m cutting the f.uck in. I feel the man turn toward me, but my eyes are only for Zoe who is staring at me as though she’s seen a ghost. I fight the smirk that tugs at my lips, that’s right Mi Vida, I told you I’d find you.

Getting over the shock, Zoe’s eyes narrow as her fingers tighten on the back of the jacket her dance partner is wearing, causing a low growl to leave my lips.

‘I don’t want to dance with you’ she snaps at me venomously, her dark brown eyes glittering with anger, yet there is something else there, in the depths . . longing.

‘You can’t avoid me forever’ I reply roughly, fighting my instinct to grab her by the waist and throw her over my shoulder so I can carry her out of here and take out two years of frustration and pent up desire on her body.

‘I’ve been doing a pretty good job so far’ she throws back at me, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder as she gives me an obstinate look, ‘now go away, I’m working.’

I barely have time to register her words before a male voice growls out ‘Gun!’ and all hell breaks loose.

‘Howard get down!’ the man beside me roars as Zoe shoves me out of the way, sprinting toward the man who is feet away from us, a gun in his hand, aimed on my friend and his wife.

I instinctively reach for Zoe, but my hands clasp at thin air as she tackles the man just as the sound of a gun shot fills the air. I can’t get to my woman as a hoard of security descend upon her, enveloping her as they help detain the man who somehow got a gun into the venue.

The sea of bodies parts just enough for me to see Zoe, her knee in the spine of the gunman’s back as she fixes cuffs to his wrists.

Her dress is ripped across the shoulder, the silver dress falling open, exposing her skin. I go to take a step toward her, but my way is barred by a large solemn man who indicates for me to move away.

‘You need to stay back sir’ he growls firmly, ‘please follow me.’

‘No, I need . .’ I start to protest when the voice of the man who was dancing with my wife cuts me off.

‘Get a medic!’ he yells, ‘we need anyone with first aid training up here now! And call an ambulance.’

I turn toward Zoe’s dance partner, my eyes widening as I take in Howard’s wife on the ground, her expensive dress stained In blood as another man appears, kneeling beside her as he opens a medical kit.

‘Aubrey’ I gasp in shock.

‘Sir’ the security guard states again, dragging my attention back to him, ‘you need to follow the other guests, there is already a room set up for you all.’

‘But Audrey’ I mutter, ‘they are my friends, I need . . ‘

‘The best way to help them is to let our team deal with Mrs LeGrange without distraction’ the man replies, laying a hand on my bicep and forcibly making me move.

I’m taken, along with the other guests to another room where we are pretty much held hostage until police arrive. A few people are crying quietly, others are standing around solemnly, no one really knowing what we are supposed to do.

It takes half an hour before the doors to our room open and officers enter, the small group selecting people from the party and taking them to one side as the rest of us huddle together on the other.

One by one, we are questioned about the shooting, once finished, each person is then escorted from the room without being allowed to speak to the rest of us still waiting.

Finally, after over an hour, a male officer beckons me over, and I stride toward him, stopping in front of him as he casts a glance over me.

‘Name?’ he asks me, sounding bored.

‘Gerrard Tierra’ I reply curtly, desperate to get this over with so I can find my damn wife.

A flicker of recognition hovers on his face, and I give him a cool look, crossing my arms over my chest.

‘Mr Tierra, could you tell me what you saw this evening?’ the officer asks, a little more respectfully than a few seconds ago.

I clench my jaw, but rattle off everything I can remember about the shooter, which isn’t much as my attention was on Zoe at the time.

The officer nods, ‘and did you notice anything suspicious before that? Anyone who looked a little out of place?’ he prompts.

I shake my head, ‘no, I wasn’t even aware that anyone had a gun until someone shouted Gun’ I retort.

The officer nods, asking a couple more routine questions before allowing me to leave.

A member of the hotel security leads me out of the door, and through the foyer toward the front entrance. I try to turn back toward the main room where the party was being held, but one of the guys who checked my invite strides toward me and grabs my arm.

‘I’m sorry sir, but this is a crime scene now, you cannot go back in there’ he tells me.

‘I need . . ‘ I start to growl but he cuts me off.

‘Anything that has been left behind, will be collected up by our staff once it’s been cleared by the police, we will then contact everyone to get their belongings back to them.

I drag my attention to the man beside me, frowning, ‘who exactly is your company?’ I demand.

The other man straightens slightly, ‘Cadell Security’ he replies, ‘we are the protection detail hired to secure this event.’

I bite back the retort that sits on the tip of my tongue because I have a bad feeling that, if I hadn’t had distracted Zoe and who I no realise must be a co-worker, the gunman might well not have reached my friend and his wife at all.

‘Regardless, I am not after a possession, there is someone I need to find’ I try again, not wanting to leave before I’ve seen Zoe again, talked to her.

‘Sir . . ‘the man huffs, impatiently.

‘It’s OK Benny’ a sultry voice calls out from behind us, and I spin around to find my wife walking toward us. Her strap is now held together with a safety pin, and there is a scratch down her cheek that already seems to be bruising but she still looks perfect.