Page 39 of Vicious Redemption

“I’m sorry, Honorable Mayor, but what exactly are you trying to imply?” Leo asks, his voice ice-cold but controlled except for the inflection he puts on the honorific.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it,” I say quickly, grabbing Leo’s hand. “Will you please excuse us?” I ask the Romneys as politely as I can manage. Then I haul Leo past them into the open elevator they were blocking. “It was such a pleasure to run into you again,” I assure them as we turn to face each other.

A second later, the doors close, dousing us in silence.

I have no clue what Leo might have said if we’d stayed, but truth be told, I’m impressed by the amount of restraint he showed to take as many low blows as Mayor Romney dealt in such a brief exchange.

And now that we’re alone in the elevator, I can feel the fury roiling through him, like a volcano about to burst.

19

LEO

Tia startles beside me as I close my door with unnecessary force.

“That pompous, self-righteous ass! Who does he think he is, offering you protection from me?” I slam my palm into the steering wheel as I release my full wrath now that we’re alone in my Ferrari. “He has no clue how little power he has in this town if he thinks he can waltz into that restaurant and take you from me like that,” I snarl, wrenching the car into gear.

But in my periphery, I catch Tia’s hand gripping the side of her seat, and it reminds me of her request earlier this evening for me not to drive like a maniac. Taking a deep breath, I bring my temper down just enough to stay within reason of the speed limit. Then I pull out onto the street.

“‘Are you safe?’” I mock the Romneys, sneering. “Like I’m some kind of brutish beast that doesn’t know how to contain myself around the mother of my child.”

From the corner of my eye, I catch Tia’s shoulders curling in slightly, and that infuriates me all the more. I know that Tia likes the Romneys and that her connection to me will only strain that relationship. Still, I can’t believe how blatantly the mayor shat on me.

He all but dared me to take him on. No doubt he’d be happy to slap me in cuffs at the slightest provocation right about now.

“Acting like I have nothing better to do than plot ways to run into him accidentally. He’s flattering himself. But to suggest that I would not only lay a hand on you… to imply that I knocked you up against your will and am forcing you to have our child…”

The words catch in my throat, strangling me as they make me sick to my stomach. I know I’ve done some horrible things. I know I haven’t treated Tia as well as she deserves. But I would never fucking rape her, and if the mayor didn’t have his head so far up his ass, he would know that.

A blind man could see what Tia means to me.

And it pisses me off that he would insult what little honor I have by accusing me of hurting her.

“I could kill the fucking bastard just for thinking it. He can take his sanctimonious act and shove it right up his ass. ‘I’m here to help.’ I have no doubt he’s eating up whatever shit your father’s been spouting about me to him since the ball.”

How else would Mayor Romney have come to such a sick conclusion about Tia’s pregnancy?

As far as I’m aware, the only information the mayor has received about it was from Don Guerra. It’s not a far stretch to think Tia’s traitorous father twisted the truth to make me into an even bigger asshole in the story of how Tia and I got married.

Isn’t it just fucking rich that Don Guerra would make it sound like I forced Tia into this marriage? He’s the one who suggested it! No, demanded it even. And while I stepped up to fix my mistake, he’s been using her compromised state to manipulate things every step of the way.

With the mayor convinced I’m not just a violent, power-hungry villain but also some kind of sick fucking rapist, Don Guerra now has the law eating out of the palm of his hand. He didn’t just steal my plan. He used it to turn the tables and take the mayor right out from under my nose.

It was a masterful play, really. One that’s sending aftershocks rippling through my reign well after I thought his cards had been laid down. Now more than ever, I’m going to have a hard time subduing this rebellion without facing legal implications.

I’m so worked up, that my breathing is labored, my teeth clenched as I work my jaw. I pull up outside the front of our house. And with Herculean effort, I loosen my grip on the steering wheel to throw the car in park.

I kill the motor.

Only then, in the still silence that follows, do I realize Tia hasn’t said a word since we left the restaurant. I glance toward her, and it doesn’t look like her mute state is about to change. The wind vanishes from my sails as I see the pain on her face, the way she studies her hands in her lap like there’s something about them she could change if she looks hard enough.

“What’s wrong?” My stomach knots as I turn to face her fully. “Did I say too much? I know the Romneys are your friends—even if their sense of loyalty isn’t for shit.”

Tia shakes her head, but she doesn’t expound on the gesture.

And my heart stops at a sickening realization. Tia didn’t argue with the mayor when he suggested I forced myself on her. And she didn’t say anything when I revisited the subject during my verbal rampage.

In her mind, is that what happened?

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