Page 101 of They All Own Me

"I paid the fucking ransom," I protest weakly.

"After how many days? And only because it would look bad for your image?" She shakes her head.

"I heard everything you said Thomas, I was there, in the house." She leans towards the glass. "Face it, you never cared about me. I was just arm candy for your political career. Well now you can rot in here while I live my best life with three men who actually appreciate me."

My blood boils as I surge up from my chair, the metal legs screeching against the concrete floor. "You manipulative little?—"

"Sit down, Cope!" The guard's hand clamps down on my shoulder, forcing me back into the seat.

"Oh Thomas, still can't control that temper." Tatum adjusts her designer glasses with a smirk. "By the way, tell Mom and Dad I said hi when they arrive. They should be here any day now."

"What are you talking about?"

"Someone may have tipped off the feds about their... creative accounting practices. And those offshore accounts? Tsk tsk." She stands, smoothing her sundress over her belly. "Guess the family that commits fraud together, stays together. Well, in adjacent cells anyway."

"You wouldn't fucking dare?—"

"Already did, darling. Consider it payback for selling their daughter to the highest bidder." She blows me a kiss through the glass. "See ya!"

"Guards! Let me out of here!" I thrash against the restraints as two officers grab my arms. "You can't do this to me!"

"Time's up, Cope." They drag me toward the door as Tatum sashays away, her heels clicking on the linoleum floor.

"I'll get you for this!" My voice echoes through the visitation room. "You hear me? This isn't over!"

"Keep moving," the guard grunts, shoving me forward.

The last thing I see before they haul me away is Tatum's perfectly manicured hand waving goodbye.

Chapter 50

Dominic

(Two years later)

I guidethe SUV up our winding driveway, the engine purring beneath us. The late afternoon sun catches on the endless expanse of grass stretching out on either side. Fifty fucking acres of it.

"Your turn to mow," Connor says from the passenger seat, a smirk playing at his lips.

"That shit takes forever." I drum my fingers on the steering wheel. "Last time I did it, my ass went numb from sitting on that tractor for six hours."

"Take that up with our wife." Connor chuckles. "She's the one who insisted on all this land."

"For the horses," Isaac pipes up from the back seat. "And the dog. And whatever other strays she keeps bringing home."

The white three-story house comes into view, wrap-around porch gleaming in the sunlight. Home. After two days away on a job, the sight of it settles something in my chest.

A golden blur races down the front steps, barking excitedly. Petey. That damn dog nearly knocks himself over, his tail wagging so hard his whole body shakes.

"Speaking of strays." I park the car. "Remember when she brought him home? Covered in mud, missing half his fur?"

"Now look at him," Connor says. "Spoiled rotten."

I climb out of the SUV, and Petey launches himself at me, front paws landing on my chest. His tongue lolls out in a doggy grin as I scratch behind his ears.

"Down, boy." But I'm grinning too. "Where's mama?"

The screen door bangs open and tiny feet thunder across the porch boards. Our daughter Paislee races toward us, her black pigtails bouncing with each step, crayon-covered papers clutched in her hands.

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