Unhappily Ever After B. 01

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Unhappily Ever After

is a long, novel-length story that relates the story of a veteran who returns to civilian life and pursues a career path begun before joining the Australian Defence Force. He is forced to resurrect his 'stay alive' skills when he is betrayed by his wife, whose lover puts a hit order out on him.

---oooBJSooo---

As with many of my stories, this one started out as an idea for a short story. Unfortunately, the characters took control, and it became my version of War and Peace. In an attempt to encourage those with an aversion to long stories to read it, I have broken it up into two books. This submission is Book One.

Book Two has been written and is currently in the editing stage. Each book tells its own story, but I'd recommend reading Book One first to get a handle on some of the characters.

Hopefully, those who didn't like the absence of gratuitous retribution in my previous submission,

Happenstance

, will find

Unhappily Ever After

more explicit. Doncha hate it when you've got to work things out for yourself?

Be warned, however. If you start this journey, be prepared for a long ride. Book One contains ten chapters, which will be submitted in seven parts. All seven parts have been submitted simultaneously, with a request to the moderator that they be published on consecutive days.

I trust you will enjoy my offering, but I will be happy to receive your comments either way. It should be noted, however, that I have blocked anonymous comments. I know that might inconvenience a few of you, but my philosophy is that 'better one commenter be inconvenienced than ten trolls be allowed to spew their vitriol'.

Please Note:

The right of Black Jack Steele to be identified as the author of this work - Unhappily Ever After - Book One - is asserted under worldwide copyright laws. All rights are reserved.

UNHAPPILY EVER AFTER

BOOK ONE

Copyright © Black Jack Steele 2022

CHAPTER FOUR

Tuesday, December 19, 2017

A Snake In The Grass

"Good morning, Aaron," Charlie said after removing her lips from my raging penis as I regained consciousness the following morning. "I see the nickname, 'Stoney', is well deserved."

Rather than lowering her head back down onto my steel rod, she threw her right leg over me and straddled my waist. As she rubbed her slit along my shaft, I could tell she was highly aroused. I reached out and, grasping one of her delectable breasts in each hand, began massaging and pinching her already extended nipples. The sound of her moans drove me to distraction.

After lubricating my penis with her juices, she raised herself up, reached down between her legs, grasped and lifted my hardened steel rod and lowered herself onto it. I couldn't get over how tight she was and had to fight to avoid blowing my load before she reached the halfway point in her slow descent. I got the feeling that she was doing the same thing, knowing I wouldn't be able to hold back if she came.

With her eyes closed and her head thrown back, she sat perfectly still, enjoying the pleasure of the moment once her clitoris was resting on my pubic bone. That gave us time to recover before the action started. She then leaned forward, kissing me deeply while rocking backwards and forwards. That's all it took. Neither of us was going to for a marathon. As we approached the tipping point, Charlie lifted herself halfway up my shaft and then dropped down with all her weight behind her.

She screamed out her orgasm as my cock's helmet drove up into her cervix, and I felt her ejaculating all over my groin. I fought hard to prevent my own orgasm but failed miserably. I shot my sperm all the way up into her womb.

'I hope to Christ she's protected,'

I thought while filling her with my baby-making cream.

She lifted herself up and down rapidly, bringing herself off again and again. For the first time ever, my cock stayed as hard as Cleopatra's Needle.

Charlie finally drove herself all the way down again before exploding into the mother of all volcanic eruptions. Once again, the head of my penis was buried deep into the mouth of her womb when I erupted for the second time in as many minutes.

When I finally slipped out of her, we were both surprised at how little of my cum followed my now-shrinking penis. Our separation coincided with the alarm going off.

Fully sated, we felt it would be safe enough to shower together. It almost wasn't, but I displayed an inner strength I didn't believe I possessed and resisted Charlie's attempts at seduction.

---oooBJSooo---

We made it to Brad's office only a few minutes late after enjoying a breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast and coffee, which Charlie knocked together while I repaired the back door and checked my texts and emails. There was nothing urgent in either.

I then sent a text off to Tommy asking him to warn the lads patrolling my home property that there might be an attempted break-in sometime today or tomorrow. I was sure it wouldn't take them long to respond to the news that Sam and cop-toy's attempt at hiding evidence had been recorded.

I suggested that the intruders shouldn't be allowed to get anywhere near the house. While I wanted to find out how much they knew about the layout of the place and the security system and what instructions they had been given, my instincts told me it wouldn't be wise to let them get too close.

My warning bells were ringing loudly in my head. I had a sneaking suspicion that Sam and her friends might be planning on planting evidence on me - either in my car or in my home - that would have me arrested. Drugs were the obvious choice, but other things - like money laundering and kiddy porn - couldn't be ruled out. Although, even if they did manage to get into the house, they would have a hard time breaking into my computer.

I also warned him that whoever they sent might not come in through the front gate and that the lads should keep a sharp eye on the river.

"When did you begin not trusting us to know how to do our jobs?"

Tommy texted back.

"Just sayin',"

I responded.

"Don't you have an appointment to attend?"

"I do,"

I texted back, ending my communication.

While I cleaned up after breakfast, I asked Charlie to duck out to the garage and reattach the GPS locator to my Chrysler.

"I need the bastards to know we're off the property," I explained. "I want to draw them into a trap. They have to try to get their hands on the data card from my surveillance cube, and they won't try to do it with us here.

"We'll take my car and leave it in my office carpark. From there, we'll catch a cab over to Brad's office. I don't have under-cover parking at my office, so I can keep the car under CCTV surveillance the whole time it's there. We'll be able to see if they try to plant anything on or in it.

"In the meantime, the happy campers will keep an eye on the house and outbuildings. Anyone who tries to break into any building on the property will wish they'd never been born."

She returned from the garage just as I was finishing the after-breakfast cleanup.

"Did you happen to bring a set of business clothes with you?" I asked as she walked back into the kitchen.

"As a matter of fact, I did," she answered. "Why? Do you have something kinky in mind for when we come home tonight?"

"Trust you," I laughed. "But, no. I thought I might employ you as my new personal assistant. That way, we would have a reason for you to be with me during my working hours. I'll set you up in an office close to mine and give you a few jobs to do. That way, you can be with me whenever I have someone else in my office and when I visit any of the sites.

"I haven't asked what skillsets you have other than being an excellent giver of first aid, but do you think you would be able to fit into that role?"

"I think I'd manage," she responded. "In addition to my first aid and bodyguarding skills, I have a Bachelor of Business degree.

"And, in answer to your initial question, yes, I do have a couple of business suits with me. Would you like me to wear the sexy one or the 'little miss innocence' one?"

"I think we should start with the LMI one," I answered. "We might keep the other one for... well, we'll talk about that some other time."

We were on the road twenty minutes later.

When I was about ten minutes from my office, I called my private secretary, telling her I had another full morning away from the office but that I'd probably be in for a few hours after lunch. I also told her that I was planning to leave my car at the office and asked her to arrange to have an Uber car waiting to take me to my lawyer's office when I arrived.

Shirley Smith has been with me since I started my business. She was a fifty-five-year-old, happily-married mother of three who treated me like one of her own kids. She'd sensed that I was experiencing marital problems but had kept her own counsel, knowing I would talk to her about it when I felt the need to do so.

I promised myself that I'd make time to do just that this afternoon.

Shirley was possibly one of the highest-paid secretaries in the city. Mainly because she was my right-hand man. The people who worked for me knew that her words were my words.

Before ending my call, I asked her to arrange a meeting with her and Tod Manyweather at three o'clock that afternoon. I then asked her to transfer me through to Todd.

Todd Manyweather was my Head of Security. He was a former Military Police officer and had proven himself to be the ideal choice for the job. He had a hand-picked, highly disciplined security team who, as far as I was aware, knew he wouldn't tolerate disloyalty to either their employer or himself.

He also had a nose for sniffing out trouble and - from the evidence he had provided - had saved me many thousands of dollars by jumping on problems before they became endemic. Those savings and his commitment were recognised in his annual bonuses.

I briefly explained to him about parking my car in plain sight and the need to keep it under surveillance the whole time it was in the carpark. I instructed him not to interfere with anyone attempting to tamper with it but to identify the perpetrators.

I told him I would explain everything that afternoon.

"Who were those people?" Charlie asked after I'd ended my call.

After explaining who there were and where they fitted into the organisation, she seemed to relax back into her seat. She seemed a little pensive.

---oooBJSooo---

The Uber was waiting for us when we arrived, so we didn't go into my office building. We simply transferred our gear between cars and left for my meeting with Brad. His PA ushered us into his office as soon as we arrived.

I introduced Charlie to Brad as Charlotte Brown, my new personal assistant. Of course, she looked the part in her below-knee-length shirt, modest high-necked silk blouse, business blazer and her hair tied up in a bun. Her low-heeled shoes and black-rimmed glasses set off the stereotypical image she had created.

"I don't mean to come across as indelicate, Ms Brown," Brad said, "but where do you hide your gun?

"The idea of Aaron, here, needing a second PA when he already has Shirley beggars belief. You might fool some people with your disguise, but those who know Aaron will know you're not his new PA."

"Your friend is very astute," Charlie said, looking at me.

"You're very astute, Mr Stokes," she said, repeating herself, digging around in her purse as she turned to face Brad.

She finally pulled out a compact Glock 19 and laid it on the table between our two clients' chairs. She then pulled out a small card folder and flipped it open briefly in front of Brad. From what I could see in the instant it was flashed, it contained something that looked like a driver's licence and a gold-plated Texas Ranger badge.

"I'm Mr Bourke's liaison officer. I work for a federal law enforcement agency, and we've enlisted Mr Bourke's help in bringing an international BDSM ring to justice."

"I didn't realise BDSM was illegal," Brad said, totally astounded.

"It's not," Charlie said, "But it is distasteful."

That was it for me. I couldn't hold myself in any longer. I burst out in raucous laughter.

"You're a fucking rotten bastard, Bourke!" Brad shouted. "And you too, Ms Brown, if that's your real name.

"You had me on the edge of my fucking chair. You're a matched set. Rotten fucking bastards, the pair of you."

"You're right, though," I said, attempting to mollify him. "Charlie isn't my new PA. She's really my back watcher. My bodyguard. The PA role is only a cunning cover, so she can accompany me everywhere I go."

"Everywhere?" Brad asked.

"Well, almost everywhere," I said.

By the time we had settled down, Charlie had put her Glock and fake identification back into her shoulder bag. She was just in time as Brad's PA opened the door so one of the junior staff members could bring in a tray filled with tea and coffee pots, cups, plates and an assortment of sandwiches, doughnuts and pastries.

With our cups filled with our choice of beverages - Charlie had tea while Brad and I had coffee - Brad called his PA back into his office to witness my signature on the documents he'd laid out in front of me.

The first to be signed was the Application for the Annulment of a Marriage.

"I want to have this ready to go as soon you give me the nod," Brad said. "The package containing the supporting evidence has already been compiled, so it should be a slam-dunk; assuming we don't get a judge they have corrupted, that is. But I'll do what I can to ensure that doesn't happen. MCL is not the only legal firm with influence in this town."

I signed it and moved it along the desk to Brad's PA to notarise my signature.

The second document was my revised Last Will and Testament.

"It contains all the provisions from your previous will," he said, "but with the removal of Sam as the primary beneficiary and the transfer of that portion of your estate to the other beneficiaries."

Once again, I read it, signed it and moved it along the desk.

The third document was the cancellation of Sam's authority to exercise my Enduring Power of Attorney. That authority was given to Brad under the terms outlined in the fourth document.

"This will only become active if you should disappear for a period of time - three months, in this case - or if you are unable to act on your own behalf for any reason at an earlier date. It also gives me the authority to vote on your behalf at trust meetings should either of those situations arise.

These two documents, too, I signed after reading through them and slid them along the desk.

With the paperwork out of the way, Brad's PA left the room, and we got down to discussing the other matters I'd raised with him.

"Asset protection?" I asked.

"Checked and tested," he answered. "I went over it with a fine-toothed comb before handing it over to a barrister who specialises in such matters for his opinion. He suggested a couple of changes that might help avoid any ambiguity but was of the opinion that they would pass muster as they were."

I then asked him about the biggie. How successful he'd been in finding dirt on any of MCL's partners or other employees? Of course, I didn't expect that he'd be able to drill down into their lives - Tommy was already doing that - but I'd been hoping he'd be able to pick up a bit of industry gossip that would give us a clue about what pies they might have fingers in.

"Strangely," Brad started, "or maybe not so strangely for such a large and powerful law firm, they're not well-liked. Oh, they're certainly feared - mainly because they're bullies - but they don't have many friends.

"The other thing about them is that they're lazy. They prefer to settle their cases rather than have them fought out in the public arena. They see that as a more profitable solution for their clients and themselves. And it can be. But it means they don't have many decent litigators in their partnership lineup.

"The only litigators worthy of the name are the two partners who focus on criminal law - one of whom is your wife's boss - but, even then, they'd rather plea bargain or settle than fight. It probably doesn't help that most of their clients are actually guilty of the crimes for which they've been charged. I feel sorry for those poor bastards who may be innocent.

"One thing you should be aware of, though, is that MCL is a combined practice. As such, it employs both barristers and solicitors; which makes it a pretty good setup. They generate an income stream from the same client for both the solicitor and the barrister.

"Of the five senior partners, three - including your wife's boss - are barristers. The other two are highly qualified and experienced solicitors. The next step for any one of them is to the bench."

He took a moment to sip his coffee while gathering his thoughts.

"They're the facts," he then said. "Now for the rumours.

"They indicate that the behind-the-scenes activities of the partners at MCL are common knowledge within the industry. It is acknowledged that they have been going on for some time - years rather than months - supporting the information you were given.

"Nobody I spoke to seems very surprised about this activity, which tells me that it's probably a common practice among a few of the larger firms. Thank God I came up the hard way and missed all that.

"In amongst all the rumour and innuendo, however, I caught a whisper about something else. If that whisper carries any veracity - Brad often used our old English teacher's language - it appears that MCL might be the subject of a State Crime Commission investigation.

"Information about that investigation is still 'Top Secret', but I received a hint that it has something to do with the State Police Service using a few lawyers as confidential informants. If there is any truth to such a claim, it would mean that the police are using lawyers to inform on the clients they are defending.

"Apparently, all sorts of manure is being slung backwards and forwards, with the police refusing to hand over their CI records to the Commission. Of course, all of this is happening behind closed doors; if, indeed, it is happening at all. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get any names, but it was hinted that Kingston might be one of those under investigation."

'I've got ya, ya bastard,'

I said to myself, mentally rubbing my hands together.

'You're a dead man walking.'

Apparently, I couldn't hide my face-splitting smile. That surprised me. I was usually a good poker player.

I looked over at Charlie, who was also smiling. It was a smile that was also shared by Brad.

"I knew that'd get your motor running," he said. "I can already hear the 351 in that Mustang of yours rumbling in the background.

"Of course, it doesn't matter if the whisper is true or not. It's 'perception' that really matters. And as everyone knows that in most people's minds, perception

is

reality."

"Being an officer of the court, it would be irresponsible of me to suggest that information leaked to the press could wreak a great deal of havoc was it ever published."

As he spoke those words, Brad was writing a name down on a post-it note. He turned it to face me as he rose, leaving his desk while he went to ask his PA to reschedule his next couple of appointments. When he returned to his seat, the pad was back facing him. The top sheet was missing. I recognised the name he had written as that of a well-credentialled investigative reporter.