“Here’s the press release about the dismissals,” I say when I drop the files on Natalie’s desk. “Send it out now. When they call, tell them I’m out of the office for the rest of the day.” Am I taking the coward’s way out by not having a press conference? Hell yes, but I’m too furious to deal with reporters today.
“Ah, okay. But why can’t Vera do it?” she asks, referring to my personal paralegal.
“Because I wantyouto handle it.” I stare her down. She’s responsible for this shit.
“Right. Sure. I’ll get right on it.”
“You do that,” I mutter before I head for the door with my coat and briefcase. I need to get out of the office. I can’t stay here a second longer, feeling like a fraud, like the person I swore to myself I’d never be — a district attorney who can be paid off for a beneficial outcome.
If anyone finds out the real reason why I dropped the charges, my life as I know it will be over. No law firm would ever hire me even in private practice. The Bar would probably take my license. I’ll be labeled an organized crime sympathizer at best or someone on the mob’s payroll at worst.
Before I even make it out of the courthouse, my phone blows up with messages and calls from local news reporters, wondering about my sudden decision to drop the cases based on ‘evidence tampering’. The police department will be up my assany second for putting the blame on them when they didn’t do anything wrong. Still, it was the easiest explanation.
Besides, while I hate to admit it publicly, the way the raid at the nightclub went down was bullshit. Those cops went in shooting before announcing themselves to the owner or the patrons. That’s how Creed Ferraro’s brother, Carmine, was killed. It’s shocking others weren’t shot and killed as well, Tristan fucking Ferraro included.
God, I can’t even think about the asshole’s name without my blood pressure shooting sky high, making me want to break something or hit something — his face in particular. Or his balls.
I thought he was a good guy, one who saved me. I thought I could trust him, and I was so wrong.
He’s the last person in the world I ever should’ve put my trust in, and yet, I let him manipulate me without ever knowing his identity.
I’m certain that the club owner knew what he was up to and didn’t intervene. I should have the whole place shut down. But if the owner, Joel, knows about the videos, well, he could release them to get back at me.
All I can do now is keep my mouth shut, my head high, and my life squeaky clean. No more sex in my office with Bryan either.
I don’t want any type of sex scandal to be brought to light and prompt more investigating into my private life on the chance my visit to the club will be discovered.
God, I hate that mobster more than I’ve ever hated anyone in my life.
And there’s not a damn thing I can do to hurt him back.
Screw that.
There must me some way to ruin his miserable outlaw life without it coming back on me. I just have to be patient and think it through.
12
Tristan
That night at our family celebration, I somehow end up sitting at the end of the table with Saint Rovina.
I start to ask what he’s even doing there, but it’s obvious Stella wanted him here when she announces that she’s pregnant. Besides, if he wasn’t, I’d be the odd man out.
The new boss of Brooklyn looks like shit and is guzzling his whiskey faster than the server can bring him a new one.
“Still no lead on Cami?” I ask, even though I know he’s already in a dark place.
“No,” he answers. When he doesn’t speak again for several moments, I assume that’s the end of our discussion. Then, he says, “Stella gets a two-minute call once in a while, but Cami doesn’t know where she’s at or how to escape. Aiden hasn’t had any luck reaching his idiot son to try and talk sense into him. I just wish Kai would grow a pair and come kill me. I would deserve it, and I’d welcome it to get Cami back.”
Damn, he’s not just in a dark place, he’s practically suicidal.
“At least you know she’s still alive,” I tell him. “If he’s kept her alive this long, that’s a good sign that he’s not going to kill her.”
The glare Saint gives me lets me know my words aren’t exactly encouraging.
Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut. But I should warn Dre his brother-in-law is going off the deep end.
When Creed stands up after we order, everyone shuts up. “Tonight, while we’re celebrating our freedom, which we owe to Tristan, I also want us to remember Carmine. My brother was a good man, a better man than me, and he didn’t deserve to die so damn young. That’s why Zara and I have decided to name our son after him, so he will not be forgotten. His name will live on in our little boy, a small tribute to my brother every time his name is spoken.”
