Hitched & Hitched Again: A Comedy of Marital Mayhem

Chapter 11

It was obvious to anyone watching that Tarquin had completely misinterpreted Elysia’s actions. He thought she was shamelessly flirting with him in front of everyone.

“Outrageous! Unreasonable!” he exclaimed.

Elysia’s eyes widened in shock as she realized the misunderstanding. She quickly tried to explain, “You’ve got it all wrong. I just wanted to check…” if there were bite marks on his shoulder.

Years ago, during a moment of intense pain, she had lapsed into unconsciousness, then woken with such agony that she had bitten down on his shoulder and refused to let go.

Such a fierce bite would surely leave a scar on any normal person.

If there were bite marks on his shoulder, it would prove he was the man from that wild encounter!

But before she could finish her sentence, Tarquin’s phone suddenly rang. He snatched it up and barked, “Talk to me!”

Whatever was said on the other end, his expression went through a whirlwind of emotions.

“I’ll be right there,” he said abruptly.

seves me

He hu p the phone and rushed out, no longer the picture of calm. filled with a restless anxiety.

Lowell, seeing his demeanor, knew something had to be wrong with the young master. The only things that could rattle the stoic Tarquin were issues concerning his young son and the woman from six years ago.

His son was, of course, his flesh and blood. That woman was the elusive mother of his child! Lowell’s expression changed as well. He hurried after Tarquin, “What about that lady?”

Without looking back, Tarquin dismissed the concern, “Leave her to the police!”

Elysia panicked, realizing she couldn’t afford to be detained while trying to verify his identity. She rushed after him, “You can’t hand me over to the cops, I have three kids at home, and they’re fatherless. If I get taken away, there’s no one to look after them.

I admit it was wrong for my kids to scratch your car, and I’m sorry! But they’re only five years old; they really can’t be without their mom.”

Tarquin turned to look at Elysia, and for a moment, he understood all too well the plight of children without their mother. His own son Elijah knew that pain.

Tarquin felt a pang of compassion, but he wasn’t ready to let her off the hook just yet.

“Lock her up here for now. We’ll decide what to do with her later,” he ordered.

Elysla panicked, “You can’t lock me up here. My kids are waiting for me at the motel. I…” But her words were cut off as the door slammed shut and was locked from the outside.

With her eyes brimming with tears, Elysia realized she didn’t even have her phone. Her kids. were alone in the motel, vulnerable to any danger.

“Let me out! This is unlawful imprisonment! Let me out…” Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

No matter how much she yelled, no one paid her any attention.

In Jindale City’s most prestigious estate, Number One Mansion, Tarquin stormed in, not bothering to shed his coat or shoes as he made a beeline for the second–floor nursery.

The butler, Heath, followed close behind in a flurry.

“What in the world happened?!” Tarquin demanded, his voice laced with urgency.

“The young master was fine earlier, but then Ms. Nola Slater showed up out of the blue,” Heath reported quickly. “She brought gifts and went upstairs to see him. Whatever she said to him, it set him off. He even hurt Ms. Slater.”

A shadow passed over Tarquin’s eyes, his steps quickening with worry,Did he hurt himself?”

lear, he won’t let any of us near.”

“It’s

Bang! Thud! Crash!

As Tarquin reached his son’s door, the sound of objects being thrown around could be heard.

His anxiety increased a notch as he pushed open the door,

“Eli…”

A vase flew straight at him, and he dodged just in time. The vase whizzed past his ear and out of the room, tumbling over the banister to shatter on the first–floor tiles.

Heath’s face paled out of fear, and he was frozen in the doorway.

But Tarquin, accustomed to such outbursts, stepped into the room, his patience evident as he approached his furious son, “Elijah, what’s got you so upset again?”

Elijah Bradford clenched his fists, his young brow furrowed tightly, his chest heaving with emotion. His face was stormy with anger, an image of fury so like Tarquin’s that their resemblance was unmistakable.

Clearly, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

Tarquin moved closer, reaching out to embrace his son, but Elijah rejected the offer, standing far away and eyeing him warily.