Chelsea Wives. Anna-Lou Weatherley

       Chapter 63

       Chapter 64

       Chapter 65

       Chapter 66

       Chapter 67

       Epilogue

       An interview with Anna-Lou Weatherley

       Anna-Lou’s Guide to the King’s Road

       Author Note

       Acknowledgements

       About the Author

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

      Our Three Heroines

       Imogen Forbes

      Ah, the beautiful, effortlessly chic and smart ex-model who looks like she’s stepped straight out of the pages of Vogue and who once had the fashion world at her Louboutin-clad feet. Imogen’s bright light has been hidden under a bushel for too long thanks to her jealous, possessive, control-freak of a husband, Sebastian who’s hell bent on keeping her all to himself – and firmly out of the spotlight at any cost.

      When she discovers her husband’s cruel skulduggery has scuppered her chances of a successful career comeback however, Imogen takes matters into her own hands and with the unwitting help of her friends, Calvary Rothschild and Yasmin-Belmont Jones, plots her cunning revenge against the despotic, power-crazed man she regrets ever marrying.

      Only it’s not just her malicious husband she has to worry about; her past is creeping up on her too, namely in the form of a man she once loved. A man she has never stopped loving…

       Calvary Rothschild

      Rampant social climber and fashion maven extraordinaire, ex-fashion magazine editor Calvary is a stylish aristocrat desperate to keep up appearances - whatever the cost. Thanks to her adulterous, philandering husband Douglas, who can’t seem to keep it in his trousers however, it’s proving to be a little tricky.

      Having spent years turning a blind eye his latest, most sordid affair is the final straw and this time she vows to take action. Only divorcing him would mean losing all her vast privileges as a society wife, something Calvary can’t even begin to reconcile herself with.

      Desperate and unhappy, relief comes in the form of an unlikely admirer and when presented with the chance to play her part in her friend’s bid for revenge, Calvary seizes the opportunity to stich her own husband up in the process. But can she get her own back on a man who has spent years humiliating her without losing it all, or will Douglas have the last laugh?

       Yasmin Belmont-Jones

      The young, brash and surgically enhanced wife of the bloated, unsavoury old Lord Belmont, Yasmin Jones, a paparazzi’s dream, may be sailing dangerously close to WAG territory and ostracised by the London society set for being nouveau riche but frankly she couldn’t give a damn – she has all the designer clothes, bags, and champagne a girl could wish.

      Besides, it’s not Belmont’s money she’s really interested in. A dark, sinister secret and need for revenge has brought her into the Chelsea fold and Belmont’s bed – and now it’s pay-back time. It soon becomes apparent to the gossip mongers of SW3 that there’s more to Yasmin Belmont-Jones than just a gold-digger in a designer dress – much more….

      PROLOGUE

      Detective Inspector Mitch McLaren glanced around the magnificent library, casually perusing the literature that was neatly stacked inside the antique wooden bookcases. The fact that he had been kept waiting seemed to irk him more than usual, so much so that he had helped himself to a cheeky nip of cognac from a decanter on the sideboard. Something told him he was going to need it.

      You could tell a lot about a person by the books they owned, he thought, as he threw back the cognac in one hit. Somehow he hadn’t had Sebastian Forbes down as a Jane Austen man. Must be his wife’s, he thought, smiling as he came across Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Exhaling softly as he pulled it from the shelf, it immediately evoked a strong memory of her; her long, dark hair, shyly falling over her face like a silk curtain as she pretended not to notice him looking at her …

      ‘Detective Inspector McLaren?’ Sebastian Forbes’s clipped tones sliced through Mitch’s thoughts with all the subtlety of an axe as he stormed into the library, his face a crimson colour, veins protruding in his neck in what looked like protest.

      ‘Pleased to meet you, Mr Forbes,’ Mitch said, his hand outstretched in greeting.

      Sebastian did not take it.

      ‘The Commissioner said you’re the best he’s got,’ Sebastian said, matter of fact, casting the Inspector a rather disdainful glance. ‘Well, I hope for your sake he’s right because I want this case solved pronto, do you understand me, Inspector? I said pronto.’ Sebastian poured himself an extra large champagne cognac and threw it back without offering Mitch one.

      ‘It’s a fucking disaster, that’s what this is,’ he growled, pulling his lips over his teeth as the alcohol hit the back of his throat. ‘That diamond is worth more than the national debt, and somehow those bastards knew exactly how to get inside my bank and get their thieving hands on it.’ Sebastian was incandescent, his hands shaking with rage. ‘I want them found, Inspector. I want you to find the scum that did this and I want you to throw the bloody book at them, do you hear me?’

      Mitch watched Forbes carefully. It was immediately obvious that the man was a tyrant. It was written right through him like a stick of Blackpool rock. He hadn’t even asked about the unfortunate security guard, currently fighting for his life in hospital.

      ‘Mr Forbes, I need to ask you a few questions if that’s OK.’ Mitch cleared his throat. ‘Questions you might find impertinent, but are necessary nonetheless.’

      Sebastian didn’t care much for the DI’s abruptness but given the circumstances had little choice but to comply.

      ‘You say you were the only one who knew the codes to the security system, that is right isn’t it?’

      ‘Yes,’ Sebastian snapped back, the irritation in his voice tangible. ‘I changed the codes myself, a few hours before leaving to catch the plane. Look,’ he said tightly, ‘that system is infallible, Inspector; it’s one of a kind, pioneering technology from America which I helped create.’ He thumped his chest, indignant. ‘Only I knew the codes to gain access to the vault and only I have access to the room where the diamond was kept. The Interlocking System has an in-built scanner that relies on facial recognition. My face, Inspector, is the key that unlocks it.’

      ‘Is there somewhere I can play this?’ Mitch asked, producing a CD from his inside pocket. ‘I think it might be of some interest to you,’ he said as Sebastian nodded towards the flat-screen on the wall. ‘It’s CCTV footage taken from last night. I want you to look carefully at it, Mr Forbes,’ Mitch instructed him. ‘Tell me if you recognise any of the men.’