Page 36 of Corrupted Queen

Somehow I can play her words in my head, but I cannot action them the way she intended.

“I was tired,” I say. “And I would say the reporters were the ones being needlessly aggressive.”

Polly’s eyebrows lift in surprise. Shit. I try to rein in my focus, but all I can think about is how this is a massive fucking waste of my time. The idea of trying to rehabilitate my public image while I am dealing with so many other things on my plate feels ridiculous. I am not good at all this PR shit. Never have been. Never will be. Why bother?

“Tired?” Polly repeats, and I can see her wrestling with the decision whether to stick to her agreement with Carmen or to follow her instincts and see if she can get more out of me.

I have to think fast. Whether I like having to pander to the public or not, if this interview tanks, I am going to have an even bigger problem on my hands than I already do and the issue of public relations will only become an even bigger time suck.

Vito’s advice comes back to me.Family men are always well regarded in business.

Fuck it.

I chuckle and run a hand through my hair, tousling it slightly. Carmen has told me this makes me seem more relatable.

“I apologize, I’m still tired. My son has been going through a nocturnal phase and it has been draining the life out of me.”

“Of course.” Her eyes light up. “Your son’s name is Harry, correct? You have been spotted in public together, but to my knowledge you’ve never commented on your life as a father.”

Just like that, the conversation is swiftly directed away from the press conference. If I knew it would be this easy …

“Yes, it’s Harry.” I grin. “I tend to keep my personal life very private, as I’m sure you know.”

She chuckles conspiratorially.

“The only comment I can really make about him is that he’s a great kid, and I’m lucky to have him in my life. Even if that does mean I haven’t slept in two weeks.”

“And what about Harry’s mother?” Polly’s eyes are practically glowing. She’s going in for the kill, and my first instinct is to tell her that Harry’s mother is none of her business—I have already revealed too much—but then I try to imagine what Carmen would tell me.

Undoubtedly, Carmen would be of the opinion that having a beautiful woman and a cute baby at my side will do nothing but aid my image.

“Harry’s mother is a woman who is very dear to me,” I say, hoping that my eyes gleam with something like adoration. “And her name is Alexis Wright.”

* * *

The interview airs just an hour after taping, and by that time I am back where I should be—in my office doing work. I can tell when it finishes airing, as my phone rings and Vito’s name lights up the screen. I sit back in my chair and close the lid of my laptop, lifting the phone to my ear.

“Did you approve?” I ask.

Vito chuckles. “Well, you accomplished what Carmen wanted you to.”

“Thank you. I took your advice.”

“I would rather not take credit for that particular move,” he replies. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

Themovehe refers to is the ten minutes I spent telling Polly about Alexis and Harry. About my family. It was an unprecedented maneuver on my part, having only opened up to the press about my family exactly once before—when my father died.

“Well, it had the desired effect.” I shrug, though he can’t see it. “Carmen is happy, and hopefully I won’t have to lower myself to more interviews anytime soon. Plus I will be in good stead for my next announcement.”

“That is true. What does Alexis think?”

I grimace. “She doesn’t know yet.”

Vito suppresses his laughter and it comes through as a nasally hum instead. “You haven’t told her that you just publicly declared your love for her on television?”

“I did no such thing,” I snap, nostrils flaring. “I only said that she was special to me. That’s all.”

“Right, sorry.” His tone lowers with deference. I feel a twinge of guilt as I know he was only trying to joke with me, but lately I have not been in the mood for it.

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