Goddess of Vengeance - Jackie Collins [157]
But Max wasn’t thankful, not at all. Something was going on, and she was determined to figure out what it was.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Martin Constantine was not a violent man. Ruthless perhaps, but when building a business empire one had to be uncompromising and tough. And since he’d come up the hard way, those were two qualities Martin possessed in abundance.
Business, making deals and accumulating a fortune was Martin’s life. That and his exquisite wife, Nona.
Nona and he had been introduced by a mutual acquaintance in New York, and Martin was immediately smitten with the exotic-looking Slovakian beauty queen. So much so that it didn’t take long before he’d divorced his original wife of thirty years and promptly married the delectable Nona. Martin was sixty-five and Nona was twenty-five. The discrepancy in their ages made no difference to Martin. What was forty years between soulmates?
Eight months into their marriage, Nona had given birth to Martin’s one and only son. Since his first wife had only managed to pop out girls – three in a row – Martin was quite ecstatic. He doted on his wife and his young son.
Yes, life was very good until the confession.
The confession came one day as they sat at the breakfast table. Nona suddenly broke down in floods of tears. Concerned, Martin asked her what was wrong. In between wracking sobs, Nona told him.
She’d made a mistake. A terrible mistake.
Martin informed her there was no mistake that could not be rectified.
Secure in the knowledge that he worshipped her, Nona began telling him the story. She told him that she’d gone to Armand Jordan’s apartment to view a rare Picasso he’d recently purchased, and that once she was there, Armand had suddenly gone berserk, and viciously raped her in every possible way. Now she suspected that she might be pregnant.
At first Martin had not believed this could happen, that Armand Jordan would dare to commit such a vile act. But once she got talking, Nona had insisted on recounting every disgusting detail, including the way Armand had tossed her out of his apartment when he was finished with her as if she was a sack of garbage.
Martin’s fury grew. He was not angry at his wife, for she was merely the victim of a perverted monster who had taken out his frustration on her at not getting a building they were vying for. His rage was directed toward Armand.
But Martin Constantine had ways of dealing with rage. And it wasn’t long before he took steps to alleviate his anger and his wife’s pain.
Nobody messed with Martin Constantine’s family and got away with it. Nobody.
Martin knew exactly what he had to do.
Chapter Sixty-Four
There was no Lucky waiting for him in their apartment, which right away made Lennie uneasy. It was his first night back, and usually when they’d been separated for a while they didn’t leave each other’s side. He blamed himself. Lucky had wanted to depart Mood earlier, and because he was being obtuse about Alex Woods, he’d insisted on staying. Now where was his beautiful stubborn wife, and what problem was she dealing with in the early hours of the morning?
Knowing Lucky, she was probably doing this purposely to get his attention. Not that she needed to do that, she’d always had his attention from the very first moment they’d met. Ah yes, their lives were filled with memories . . . making mad crazy love on a raft in the South of France, falling insanely in love while they were both married to other people, enjoying all kinds of challenging adventures.
So where was she?
He paced around the apartment for a few minutes before picking up the phone and calling Danny.
Danny was at a gay club with his partner, Buff, contemplating whether to ask a handsome young barman if he would care to come home with them and spend the night.
Buff was all for it, but Danny was not so sure. He wasn’t that fond of sharing Buff with anyone. Why should he?
On the other hand, if it was what Buff wanted, who was he to deprive him?
Danny’s phone buzzed.