Page 38 of Beautiful Betrayal

I’m still behind the island when Eric and Davis, two men I know well, enter the connected living room area. Both good looking, confident, in jeans and T-shirts, which on Davis feels weird, awkward almost, but Eric is another story. Eric is an ex-Navy SEAL with a Harvard background, a brilliant financial mind, and a sleeve of tattoos down one arm. He’s someone who manages to feel comfortable in every moment, while Davis prefers the edge of discomfort.

Grayson is on their heels and he immediately crosses to stand beside me, the action an assumption that the other two men will join us on the opposite side. Instead, they halt in the living area, a good distance away from us, too far for a real conversation. “We need to see you alone,” Davis announces, speaking to Grayson and obviously shutting me out.

“Mia is with me,” Grayson says. “That means she’s with us.”

“And yet she was with Ri,” Davis replies, and like anyone close to Grayson, he actually has the courage to look at me when he makes that statement. “How do we know she’s not being inserted now to weaken you?”

“I’m on Team Mia, for the record,” Eric quickly adds.

“My job is to protect you, Grayson,” Davis argues. “And beyond my job, you’re a friend. I don’t want you fucked any more than you already are.”

“What does that mean?” I ask quickly. “Fucked how?”

“Yes,” Grayson says. “Whatdoesthat mean?”

“I really must insist that I speak to you alone,” Davis says.

My temper snaps. “I didn’t sleep with Ri, Davis,” I state. “I was never with Ri. He gave me a job with a sign-on bonus at a time when my father was in debt to a bunch of very bad people. I wasn’t going to ask Grayson for money. What kind of bitch would I be to use him for money? I couldn’t do that to him or us, and when Ri tried to force a personal relationship, I started looking for a job, which is why I was at the DA’s office. And in case you don’t remember, Davis, I saw a naked woman pressed against the man I love,my fiancé. I wasn’t in a good place emotionally, I was dying inside, but I still loved him. I didn’t, I wouldn’t, I haven’t ever tried to hurt him.” I press my hands to the counter. “Questions?”

Davis stares at me for several intense moments and then eyes Grayson, who says, “Can we get down to business now?”

Davis shifts his attention back to me. “You always did have a way of getting to the point. Welcome back, Mia.”

Eric joins us at the island, pressing his hands on the tile. “Mia,” he greets, standing directly across from me.

I slide the cookies toward him. “Leslie made them.”

“Oatmeal raisin?” he asks hopefully.

“Yes,” I say, looking at Davis. “None for you.”

“Fuck, Mia,” he says. “Have a heart, will you?”

I laugh. “No. You’re a bastard. No cookie for you.”

“You know I’m just protecting him,” he says.

“Which,” I say, “is the only reason I forgive you.”

“What did you find out?” Grayson asks. “Is there a collaboration with the DA to take me down?”

“Yes,” Davis says. “There is, and it’s already six feet deep with layers of evidence.”

An explosion of fear for Grayson rocks me, but he’s calm, cool, his tone even as he asks, “Evidence of what?”

“Money laundering, racketeering, bribing judges, the list goes on and on,” Davis states. “This is an elaborate set-up that might have taken years of work.”

“Which brings me to Mia,” Eric says.

“Me?” I ask, stiffening while Grayson’s hand settles on my back, a silent show of support.

“You,” he says. “I think the Becky show was supposed to break you two up. It was supposed to distract Grayson.”

I pant out a breath. “I think so, too. I’ve been thinking that for about twelve hours straight, and believe me, it’s a painful realization.”

“None of us saw it,” Grayson says. “Not me. Not you. Not the people around us.”

“That number that texted you the day of the funeral,” Eric says, “it was made from a phone that’s had two users since and none were Becky. We’re working on more.”

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