Chapter 222: Unexpected Confession

"What?" Naomi’s expression was pure innocence. "I thought you drove it in this way."

The officers simply stared.

Neither of them seemed capable of processing what they were looking at. Whatever had happened inside this house had clearly required detrimental levels of anger.

Camille rushed toward the car, horrified. She moved around it quickly, checking the damage.

All the glass had been smashed. Every single one.

"Officers..." Naomi said calmly. "I found the car that way. She must have been in a hit-and-run. I suggest you investigate further."

The officers looked at the Urus. There was absolutely no universe in which that damage looked like a hit-and-run.

Dorian closed his eyes briefly.

Lying about vehicular damage in front of law enforcement while still visibly vibrating with rage was not a very smart move.

"By the way," Dorian cut in before Naomi could dig herself an even deeper hole, "she is a trespasser. We have no control over what happens to her property. So please, officers... handle this."

Camille stood beside the ruined car looking ready to cry.

Naomi turned and went back into the house.

Dorian exhaled.

At least she was walking away. A few moments later, however, Naomi reappeared at the entrance.

She had Camille’s shirt in her hand. "You left this behind, bitch!" she flung it into the street, turned around and calmly went back inside again.

Dorian rubbed a hand over his face, finished dealing with the officers, answered what needed answering and made it very clear that Camille did not have permission to be inside the townhouse.

By the time everything was finally settled enough for him to go back inside, Dorian already knew he had another problem waiting upstairs.

A much more dangerous one. His wife.

He took the elevator up to the master suite and followed the sound of movement into the bedroom.

Naomi was stripping the bed. She was scooping up the sheets, pillows and practically anything else she believed Camille might have touched, piling everything together.

Dorian stopped just inside the room. "Babe?"

Naomi rounded on him so quickly it was obvious she had been waiting for the opportunity. "Why did you let her in here in the first place?!" she snapped.

"I didn’t! I swear. She was in here already when I came back home."

"So you didn’t remove her from the SVR? What? Leaving the door open for future opportunities?"

"What opportunities?"

"You tell me."

"There are no opportunities!"

Naomi threw another pillow case onto the growing pile.

Dorian moved farther into the room. "I thought Adrian handled it. I’m sorry. I should have checked."

"Get your player ass into the bathroom and wash off," Naomi snapped.

Despite everything that had happened in the last hour, a small chuckle escaped him.

"Player ass?"

Naomi shot him a look that immediately wiped most of the amusement from his face. "I’m not touching what she has touched."

"Fair."

Very fair, actually.

Dorian couldn’t exactly fault his wife for wanting him scrubbed down before she came anywhere near him.

Still, something had been bothering him since Naomi walked out of that elevator.

"I have a question. How’d you know I wasn’t... I mean, didn’t..."

Naomi understood what he was asking.

For all the rage she had unleashed on Camille, she had never once actually accused Dorian of cheating.

Her anger had been directed entirely at the half-naked woman in their bedroom, which, now that he thought about it, was surprisingly generous considering the scene she had walked into. "Your mum called me to check in," Naomi explained. "She said you told her I hadn’t caught a break and that was how I knew you were there all through."

Dorian closed his eyes and offered a small prayer of gratitude for his mother.

Eleanor Heathcliffe had unknowingly saved his marriage from a misunderstanding that could have taken years off his life.

Dorian opened his eyes again. "So if she hadn’t called you?"

Naomi stopped stripping the bed long enough to give him a look. "You’d be in big trouble, mister. Because how were you going to explain this?"

Dorian glanced around the bedroom.

There really was no good answer to that. Even he would have taken one look at the evidence and requested a plea deal.

Still, Dorian frowned.

"I’d think I wouldn’t have to do much explaining. You should know I wouldn’t do that to you," he continued. "I have never touched Camille, I don’t plan to, and neither do I plan to with any other woman."

"Now that’s a lie. You were married to the woman."

"I didn’t touch her, Naomi."

Naomi looked like she was waiting for the joke.

None came.

The anger in her expression slowly gave way to confusion as she finally heard what he was actually telling her.

"What?"

Dorian exhaled. "I hadn’t been with anyone for years before I met you in Vegas." He gave a faint, self-deprecating smile. "Probably why I lost my mind so easily. I would never hurt you. I need you to trust that without any doubt."

Whatever disaster they had started as, whatever his previous marriages had looked like, this was not something he intended to destroy.

His eyes stayed on hers. "Unless you find me balls deep inside another woman..."

"Okay, enough! I don’t want to hear it..." Naomi slapped both palms over her ears before Dorian could finish the sentence.

He stopped, then smiled to himself. "You are such a child."

It was true. Sometimes, spectacularly so. And God help him, he loved that about her too.

Naomi slowly lowered her hands. "I don’t know...I saw her and i just stopped thinking. I cannot bear the thought of someone else having their hands on you."

"I think you made that perfectly clear tonight."

"I frightened myself tonight. I... I... I don’t do that. I..."

The words tangled because Naomi was still trying to understand what had happened to her.

She wasn’t a violent person.

The image of herself chasing Camille through the house still felt slightly unreal.

"What?" Dorian asked, stepping a little closer with a seductive wink. "Wouldn’t fight for your husband?"