Page 204 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
Brennan turns, an eyebrow raised as I look at the display. “Moretti,” I tell him.
Neither of us say anything further.
At his nod, I push the icon to answer. Then I put the call on speaker. “Vale.”
“Marco’s no longer a problem.”
Brennan and I exchange glances.
The situation with Marco and the feds has been a constant source of annoyance and irritation. Reporters, always a problem, have been even more obnoxious than usual. Celeste and Evertt have been working overtime to do damage control. The fucking bill I receive weekly shows how much.
“Seems he met with an unfortunate incident in prison.”
Brennan’s glance is sharp, then neutral. For a moment, there may be a half-smile, but I can’t tell because it’s gone in an instant.
Finally, neutrally, I respond. “That can’t be good for the feds and their case.”
“Certainly complicates it.” Dante could be discussing the weather for as much as his tone changes. There’s a click—keys, a lighter—then, “Congratulations, Senator.” He hangs up.
Without saying thank you, I slip the phone into my pocket. Owing Moretti isn’t good business. But we all know I’m in his debt.
“It’s in the Moretti family’s best interest.”
As always, Brennan has read my mind.
I nod, then take another sip, letting the burn sit in my chest.
“Celeste sent over today’s report. I read it in the limo.”
With a hint of impatience, I wait for him to go on.
“The sitting senator’s challenger is bleeding cash on fake scandals—ghost stories in grainy photos, planted rumors. Ellery’s team’s busy swatting shadows instead of building their strategy to fight you.”
Which was Celeste’s strategy all along.
As much as Moretti, she wants to own a senator.
Though I’m sure news about Marco’s unfortunate incident will travel fast, Brennan sends a text to Celeste.
An incoming ping of his phone shows how quickly she read his message.
“Now we can focus on what matters most.” He slides his phone onto my desk.
Which to me, now, are my life partners, and then the campaign. Winning the seat is secondary to keeping my family safe and happy.
I toy with the ring that I’ve kept in my pockets since she dropped it on the kitchen counter.
At one time, I thought the obscene pink diamond was the perfect symbol of my ownership. It’s a talisman now. A reminder of lessons I had to bleed for.
The hour’s almost up when I feel her presence. Though I haven’t heard her, the air shifts. It’s warmer, scented with lavender and steam.
Calypso reappears first, leaping onto a leather armchair like she’s royalty.
Isla’s in the doorway, robe belted, skin flushed from heat and time alone. Her hair’s damp, curling against her neck. She’s scrubbed clean but glowing like she’s already sinned.
“You made it in under an hour.” I pretend I’m not disappointed.
For a moment, she worries her lower lip. “I was tempted to test you.”
