The following morning, my picture was plastered on the face of major newspapers across the country. This was unsurprising, considering I was a gifted musical prodigy who was known nationwide for my soulrending music. Everyone wanted a piece of my art and were devastated when I left it all for marriage. Now, eight years later, they would all hear me play again. I bet they were all excited.
'Music Prodigy Ronica Risconce set for Career Comeback to Host a Concert on the Last day of the Month.' Then a picture of twenty four year old me curtsying on a stage while clasping a vintage Stradivarius violin. I walked leisurely around my hotel suite sipping a flute of white wine. Next to my headline was another headline that filled me with equal satisfaction.
'Patrick Simmons Once Again Delays Announcing Successor to his Vast Family Fortune.'
It was no doubt that everyone had expected Patrick to officially name James as his successor during his birthday party.
My phone began to ring. The people with my new private number were screened. Everybody else including James would be calling a phone lying at the bottom of a lake. It was my secret contact calling.
"Wow Ronny, we did it," he said as soon as I picked up the call. "We are going to take James Simmons down and expose him for who he really is."
"I guess we are," I sighed. I had first met my secret contact two months ago soon after my unfortunate first meet with Mona. He told me he had been watching me for a long time and had reached the conclusion that I was nothing like my husband. He told me that he had a personal vendetta against James.
"I will ruin James Simmons with everything in me and it will be better that you are on my side and will no longer be associated with him," he had said.
How could I not agree after James' callous betrayal? He had gotten another woman pregnant and it was crystal clear to me that James was only using me as a ticket to claim his inheritance and I meant absolutely nothing to him.
Well, he would soon know how it felt. He meant absolutely nothing to me now.
My secret contact inquired about my condition and whether I was comfortable. I assured him I was fine. He had already done so much for me more than he had to. He could have stopped at just warning me to divorce James but he had taken extra initiative by sending me money, booking a place for me to stay, arranging my escape and helping in the reviving of my musical career so I would be financially stable without James.
My secret contact was truly an angel. We had only met once but I had his profile permanently branded in my mind. He had a strikingly handsome appearance tagged with impeccable aura. Sometimes, I researched him online where there was only one available old picture of him. Still, my belly fluttered whenever I heard his low sultry voice. I could not allow myself to be overly imaginative however. James had been a charming man once upon a time and where had that gotten me? He was still charming, except towards an undeserving woman. Now, I could not allow myself to believe that I deserved a second chance in love. Better to just focus on my career.
"I am on my way to see you now."
"Alright." I gulped as my heart beat wildly against my chest. I was about to meet him again, to look upon his imposing height and stare into his hazel eyes.
To distract myself, I went online to scroll through the entertainment news. James and I were trending on the internet for two different reasons. James inheriting the family business was now in serious doubt while I was hosting a concert after an eight year hiatus and nobody ever expected to hear from me again, and I was choosing to play as Ronica Risconce instead of Ronica Simmons. There was one huge question that loomed like a hot air balloon in the air.
How would this affect our marriage?
Although I had served the divorce papers as a gift to be opened in public, James had somehow kept it under the wraps. I suspected that he had also succeeded in hiding the papers from his father. Patrick being a traditional man would never condone a divorce especially if it appeared to stem from the fault of his own son. He had said at our wedding that one who could not persevere in a marriage was not fit to run the family business. Patrick would rather open the business to the public than give it over to a son who disappointed him.
My phone rang once more. An unknown number. I gasped. It was too soon for someone to have found this number. Because it comtinued ringing, I had to answer it.
"Wrong number," I said briskly.
"I'm afraid not," James tart voice boomed through.
"How did you find me?"
"You thought you could hide from me, huh? All I had to do was call the journalist who printed your interview, threatened her a wee bit and she gave it away."
I rolled my eyes. As soon as this call was done, I would block him. Did he still think I was under his control? "What do you want?" I asked him coldly.
"Cancel the concert Ronica, and I'll let you come home."