Champagne Brunch: The Stiletto Sisters Series by Ainsley Claire (e ink manga reader TXT) 📕

This is how Alana arrived—48 hours after Marco had beaten her so badly that she called me to fly her and the boys out of there with six hours’ notice. Marco cannot be trusted, and he certainly doesn’t deserve to have you fly him here. Ask yourself why his parents won’t foot the bill to fly him back to the US. Don’t do this to Alana. Her mental health is precarious at best, and I promise we’ll have him served with a restraining order if he comes. For once, do something for your children because it’s right, not because it makes you look good.

My father calls almost immediately. “Axel, he deserves to see his children.”

“Maybe so, but not at Alana’s expense, and only when we can be sure that’s safe for them. If you violate her trust by flying him here, I promise you, Dad, you’ll not only never see your grandchildren again, you’ll never see your children again. Be very careful about your next move.”

“Axel,” I hear my mother from the speakerphone. “You’re putting us in a very difficult position.”

“No, actually I’m not. It’s black and white. Choose your daughter and her children and put their safety first. Leave Marco alone. Do not talk to him, and whatever you do, do not fly him to San Francisco.”

“It’s too late,” my father says quietly.

“What did you do?” I demand.

“He got on a flight a few hours ago. We thought Alana would be happy to see him.”

I’m holding my phone so tight it’s a miracle the glass face doesn’t shatter. “If Alana wanted to see Marco, I would have brought him with her. You’re both done. I will be filing a restraining order against you on behalf of Alana and the boys.”

“You can’t do that,” my mother yells.

“Watch me. I discreetly told you what happened. You knew Alana and the boys were hiding here in San Francisco, and Marco knew just what to say to you to get you to pony up. No. As far as we’re concerned, you’re dead to us. I hope you’re happy.”

I hang up. I’m so angry I can’t see straight right now. I need to leave for the stadium, but first I have to make a few more phone calls.

I walk out, and my sister has tears streaming down her face. “He’s coming?”

I reach for her and hold her. “They paid for his flight. I’m calling the divorce attorney and making sure he can’t talk to you, and I won’t let Mom and Dad talk to you.”

“Why would they do that?” she moans.

“Because they’re so caught up in their image. I fucking hate them so much right now. It looks better to their friends if you’re married and not divorced.”

“What decade are we living in that it looks bad? Why can’t they for once think about the boys or me?”

“I don’t know.” I hold her as she cries.

It takes some time, but I’m finally able to get her to calm down. Not long after, I hear the boys downstairs. “Why don’t you lie down? I’m going to make some phone calls. I’ll make sure you have more help here that will keep Marco away. He won’t be arriving until tomorrow morning at the earliest, and I’ll make sure he’s served with a restraining order when he does.”

She nods, and I can see a tremor in her hand. She’s terrified. Why would our parents think this was the right thing to do? I want to wring their necks.

I quickly place a call to Jim’s office. I leave a message and then tell Nina what’s going on. She picks up her phone and speaks to someone a moment. Then she hands me the phone.

“This is Bash Pontius.”

“Hi, yes, of course,” I acknowledge.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

I walk him through Marco’s impending arrival and my plan to find a lawyer to do the restraining orders for both him and my parents.

I hear him make a few clicks on a computer keyboard. “Looks like he’s on a flight coming in from Sydney that lands just before eight tomorrow morning. I have someone who can pull the restraining orders for you and get them filed. She’s an attorney we work a lot with.”

“That would be outstanding. Thank you.” I look around to make sure no little ears are listening. “I know it sounds harsh to serve my parents, but this really crossed the line.”

“I get it. Don’t think twice about it. I would recommend you get a new SIM card for your sister’s phone, and we’ll make sure that if her husband chooses to violate the restraining order, the police are called.”

“Thank you. And good advice about the SIM card. I have to go to the baseball game for work right now, but I’ll try to get one for her.”

“What kind of phone does she have?”

“It’s an iPhone.”

“I’ll pick one up on my way over and just bill you for it,” Bash says. “Then I can talk to her about the plan.”

“Wow, thank you.”

“No problem.”

I let Nina know Bash is coming by and that the boys’ father will be arriving in San Francisco by morning.

“I’ll keep my eyes open,” she assures me. “He won’t get to the kids. We can stick around the condo tomorrow.”

“Great.”

I’m grateful for the twenty-block walk to the ballpark. I’m about four blocks from the stadium when my phone rings. It’s not a number I recognize.

“Hello?” I answer cautiously.

“Hi, Mr. Remington?”

I look both ways as I cross with the light. “Yes. How can I help you?”

“This is Fiona McPhee. Bash Pontius asked me to call you. He gave me your sister’s information and your address for three restraining orders.”

“Great. Is it possible to serve her husband as he arrives in