Page 150 of Love Without Control

Mother of God, no wonder she’s considered the best defense attorney in New York.

Then Kass’s voice turned softer, and she shifted Evie so the two women were facing each other, their hands clasped together. “Maybe you could treat this woman—this beautiful woman who has given up seventeen years of her life in order to survive one of the most brutal Mafia bosses of this century—perhaps you could treat her like her kidnappers did and mark her face, split her lip, make her bleed.”

At that point, Kassie turned her glare on the agents again. “If so, make sure to take photos so I can share them with the press. I’m sure they would love to hear how a victim of human trafficking was treated by the FBI. But no matter what, I guarantee that Evie will not lose one ounce of her strength and resilience. She is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, and she deserves nothing but our respect, not our scorn because shemaybefudged a little paperwork to stay alive.”

Okay, I’ll just be honest here. I’m really close to fucking crying.

Peters was staring somewhere in the vicinity of his feet, and Saunders’s eyes were locked on the two women. He pressed his lips into a line, and I was pretty sure I saw his chin tremble. Then he stood and took a deep breath.

“You’re right, Ms. Bouvier, and I apologize if I came across harshly. Mrs. Osbourne, you have my gratitude for volunteering to speak with us today.” His eyes flitted to me and held there, but they didn’t hold any hatred, and I knew we were going to be okay. “You as well, Mr. Osbourne.”

“Excellent!” Kassie chirped, switching to sweetness in an instant. “If you’d like to have a joint press conference to let the world know Evie has been found, we’d be happy to participate. I think the optics would be great for your office since the case went unsolved for almost two decades.”

Ouch. Okay, maybe sweetness with a side of cyanide.

Then it was all handshakes and appreciation until Kassie led us out the way we came. Once we were down the hallway and out of earshot, Evie whispered, “Do you think they’re going to let it drop?”

“Yep,” Kassie said confidently, flashing us a smile. “Because I am goo-oood.”

As we emerged from the building, we saw a familiar figure leaned against a lamppost. Monty was dressed stylishly in a patterned short-sleeved shirt and black pants that tapered to the bottom hem. He wore black loafers with no socks and looked like a dude that designed clothes for living while engaging in a little MMA fighting on his off days. Seriously, Evie’s brother was brawny. Cruz was too, while Auburn was built more like me, taller and leaner but still muscular.

“Hey,” Monty said, jogging up to us and kissing his wife’s lips and then her belly. “How did it go?”

“Your wife kicks ass,” I blurted, still jazzed up about the successful meeting.

“Yours does too,” he said, smooching Evie’s cheek. “But really, how did everything go? You all right, sis?”

“Really good, thanks to Kassie. I think everything is going to be okay now.”

“Good,” he sighed, shoulders lowering an inch in relief.

“I have one more favor to ask of you, Kassie,” I said, and she swiveled her curious gaze to me.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Well, we have documents with our names on them and a certificate saying we’re married, but they were forged. I would like us to havelegallegal papers, notillegallegal papers, if that makes sense.”

“It does. I have an expert in my office that can help you file the papers for a legal name change and all that. And a new marriage certificate, but you’d have to have a ceremony for that.”

“Actually, that all sounds great, but I had something in mind in addition to that, and it would also affect Paulie.” I had everyone’s attention, and I laid it out for them.

When I was done, my wife threw herself at me and squealed. “You really want to do that?”

“I really do, Wildcat.”

Monty looked at me with something akin to respect, which was all I wanted from him. He didn’t have to think of me like a friend, but I did hope we could be mutually respectful for Evie’s sake. And he had seemed to soften toward me a teeny bit the past few days.

He looked at his wife like she was the second coming of Christ and asked, “You hungry, Kasserole?”

“Are Pamela Anderson’s boobs fake?” she asked with a raised brow.

“I refuse to answer any question regarding any other woman’s boobs, on the grounds it may incriminate me.”

Evie laughed her sweet laugh, and she looked so happy in the June New York sunlight. So happy and so free. “You’re not as dumb as you look, Mon.”

“Appreciate that. While we eat, we can discuss what you want for your wedding dress.” He looked me up and down, appraising, and asked, “Can I design your tux too?”

“I, uh, of course.”

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