Page 97 of Don't Make Me Beg
“So what exactly is it you’re suggesting? What do you really want?” Roman finally asks.
Judge Sinclair spins in his seat, fingers tapping out a slow rhythm on the table as he pulls out a new stack of paperwork from his briefcase. “I want Luka to file an annulment. Wipe the marriage clean from my daughter’s record, like it never happened.” He clicks his tongue, his eyes narrowing as heweighs his next words. “And if he agrees… If he halts progress on that eyesore of a mural he’s forcing her to paint… I’ll gladly look the other way from these charges. We can pretend this conversation never happened.” He spreads his hands in offering, his smug smile firmly in place. “So… What do you say?”
My vision goes red. It takes every ounce of restraint not to leap across this table and strangle this smug bastard with my bare hands. After everything he’s put me through, he really thinks I’d fold that easily?
He severely underestimates the amount of suffering I’m willing to endure if it means I can repay even an ounce of what he’s already taken from me.
Let him dangle his threat over my head all he wants.
Because he and I both know, I’ve already won. Everything else is just the fallout.
“Let me make myself very clear.” I lean forward, my voice low and threatening. “There is nothing you can say or do that will ever convince me to end my marriage.” I don’t blink. “So go ahead, take your weak-ass case all the way to the courthouse. But if I find out you’re harassing my wife, that you’re stressing her out in any way…” I pause letting my words sink in. “Your pride will be the least of your concerns.”
I ball the papers in my fist and launch them at his smug fucking face. It smacks him dead between the eyes and bounces off his forehead. “Now get the fuck out of my face before I change my mind.”
He struggles to keep his composure, jaw clenched, face red as a tomato, as he slowly straightens and makes his way to the door. “I hope you’re prepared for war…Because this is just the beginning.”
“I look forward to it,” I call back, just as the door slams closed.
“What the fuck, Luka? Do you have any idea what you’ve just started?” Roman hisses, his head falling back against his chair as he scrubs his hands down his face.
“Holy shit, dude. That was intense,” Guy says, reaching across Roman for another donut.
I just shrug. “I don’t see what the big deal is. It was bound to happen eventually.”
“Exactly,” Roman mumbles, looking far more annoyed than he should.
“What the fuck is your deal, Rome?” I cross my arms over my chest. “You got something you want to say to me, then fucking say it.”
“Can we not do this right now?” Leo tries to interject, but the glare Roman’s giving me tells me he’s done holding back.
“No, I want to hear it.” I gesture between them. “Let’s clear the air. What exactly would you like to say to me?”
“Oh, shit, we’re really doing this,” Guy mutters, already reaching for his phone as he takes another bite of his donut.
”All right, let’s start with your fucking house using my identity to create a dating profile. ”Roman slaps his hand against the conference table with a sharp thwack. “Imagine my surprise when a woman showed up at my house and accosted me about cheating on her!”
I purse my lips and nod, because he’s got me there. I’d be pissed about that too. “I’ve taken care of L.O.K.I. and I can assure you, nothing like that will ever happen again,” I say, trying to keep things as diplomatic as possible.
“Why the fuck is your house sexting people? How does it know how to do that?”
“I let him watch The Notebook one time, and he learned how to adjust his code. He’s a hopeless romantic, and he acts out when he’s left alone for too long.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a stress headache coming on. “I’m working on it.”
Roman rolls his eyes. My explanation must satisfy him because he doesn’t prod any further.
“Anything else you’d like to get off your chest?” I say sarcastically. “The floor is all yours.”
Roman blows out a breath, like he’s considering his words carefully. “Do you know why you were assigned to lead the festival this year?”
“Roman—” Leo warns, but I wave him off.
Unsure of where he’s going with this, I answer as honestly as I can. “Because I won the Rock, Paper, Scissors tournament, and then you changed the rules after the fact. Now it means I’m stuck leading the festival.”
Roman nods. “Well, yes, mostly…” He points a thumb over his shoulder but doesn’t look behind him. “But Leo here thought you weren’t living up to your potential. He thought maybe you needed an opportunity to prove to yourself… and everyone in town… that you aren’t, in fact, a fuck up.”
The word fuckup hits a nerve, and my chest tightens with rage. I can still hear Scout’s voice from our fight, throwing out those same words. Have I been blind this whole time? Has everyone been tiptoeing around me, thinking I’m some pathetic fucking loser?
I clench my jaw so hard it aches. “So, it was a test?”
