Page 86 of Vengeful Union

My knees go nearly weak as I finally relax, my heart finally slowing its galloping pace. Duncan is none the wiser.

“Was hoping that I could catch a ride to the gala,” he explains. “Wanted to catch your old man, but I guess you’ll do.”

I snort. “We better hurry. We’re going to be late.”

“Fashionably late,” he points out, chuckling as I walk out into the hallway.

My heart rate may have slowed down, but my mind is still racing.

Do I really want to do this? Do I really want to put my father behind bars? When I was living out of town, somehow it was easier. Out of sight, out of mind, I suppose.

But now that I’m living under his roof again, I can witness firsthand what awful things he does and condones. I can’t help from feeling hesitant because he’s still my father. But I need to do this because if I don’t, the world will never be a safe place for Bree and Lara.

“Are you worried your new wife will get eaten up at the gala?” Duncan asks as we get into my car, and I realize that I’ve been silent for too long.

“A little,” I admit, and it’s in no way a lie.

I’ve been worried about her being alone with my father, but he’s not the only threat at the gala by far. At least I know Scott won’t be there.

Duncan smiles. “Your pa will watch out for her.”

That’s what I'm worried about.

Chapter Twenty-Five

25

LARA

I standat the appetizer table, nibbling on a crab cake while my stomach rolls. I’ve tried to ignore everyone here, but it’s proving difficult. Everyone keeps staring at me. I guess it’s a novelty to have a Burke at a Murphy gala, but their eyes on me–especially Murphy’s men–feel so... gross.

Raquel sidles up next to me, this time wearing a dress and looking uncomfortable in low heels.

“You hate this as much as I do?” she grumbles, stealing a crab cake from my plate.

I look her over, snickering a bit as she pulls down the hem of her dress. “Definitely at least as much.”

She groans. “My wife picked out this dress. I look ridiculous.”

I size her up, humming in the back of my throat. “No, you don’t.”

Raquel is definitely out of her element. She looks better when she’s more confident, like when she wears her pantsuits around the mansion.

“She’s not here.” When I look at her, confused, she sighs and elaborates. “My wife, I mean.”

I tilt my head. “Why not?”

“I like to keep her away from all this. It can be dangerous for a woman...” she trails off, as if realizing. “Sorry. I guess you don’t really have a choice in this.”

“It’s okay.” I don’t blame Raquel for working for Murphy–it's difficult in this lifestyle for a woman in her position, and she probably took the first job that she was offered. “I bet it was hard for you at first, this job.”

“You have no idea.” She sips from a glass of champagne. “There are a lot of creeps in this industry.”

I look around at all the men looking at me with predatory eyes. “I can imagine.”

“Most clans have a code about hurting women and children, but it’s like they still don’t see a woman like me as a person.” She huffs out a breath, blowing her blunt bangs out of her face. “But I didn’t come over here to bitch about work. How are you doing? I know this is a lot all at once.”

“I’m hanging in there.”

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