Vicious: Chapter 11

DEAN’S HOUSE HADN’T CHANGED ONE bit. Still big and warm and welcoming, painting a perfect picture of the privileged guy who had once lived there. After passing by a Christmas tree the size of my New York apartment and a garland in the foyer, we stopped by a large oak door at the end of the hallway. It was the first time I’d been in Eli Cole’s office. I didn’t know how much he knew about how his son and I broke up, but if he did know the full story, he didn’t make it uncomfortable for me. Eli was older, with suspenders and a bowtie, an old-schooler who looked a lot like a professor or a teacher in a Harry Potter movie. He was nice to everyone, always, never rude or patronizing like the rest of this town.

They were qualities that had instantly endeared me to him.

Vicious and I were sitting in plush leather chairs—antique looking and newly padded—in front of his rich, dark wooden desk. Eli didn’t have a computer or a laptop on his desktop. Just a stack of papers arranged neatly on one side and a huge library of family law books behind him.

My hands were sweating, and I tangled my fingers together as I mulled over the last words Vicious had said to me before we stepped out of the limo.

Because I said so, Help.

He knew I was weak when it came to him. Knew every time he was around I was in a constant battle with my morals.

Because I’d wanted to kiss him that day despite being Dean’s girlfriend.

Because I wanted to lie for him today, just to put a smile on his cruel, beautiful face.

I barely listened as Vicious and Eli discussed prenups and undue influence, wills and precedents for contesting them. Eli retrieved a thick law book from the shelves, and they talked about Jo and Baron Senior, both men hunched over the desk, reading through a decision together. Vicious looked too engrossed in what he was doing to care that I was having a meltdown next to him. So many things swirled in my head, tangling into a headache.

I was torn between Vicious’s truths. The one he gave me and the one he gave the rest of the world. And my truth? It was very simple. I didn’t know what was right and what was wrong. I just knew the lines between the two blurred when it came to him.

“Millie?” Eli’s voice pierced through my thoughts.

I blinked and straightened my spine, smiling politely in his direction. “Yes, Mr. Cole?”

“Do you have any questions about everything we’ve discussed so far?” Eli knitted his fingers together and offered me an encouraging smile.

I shook my head no. No one had asked me to do anything yet, which was good, because my morals were going to win. Again.

“Everything’s clear?”

I licked my lips. “Yeah,” I said.

“Good. If not, you’re sitting next to one of the finest attorneys I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. I’m sure he can brief you more about what to expect if this goes to court,” Eli said. “Your testimony is Baron’s best chance. The statute of limitations for criminal charges has long since expired, but he can still punish that woman. For Josephine, I suspect having no money will seem as bad as jail. It’s imperfect justice, but that you can corroborate what he told you is very important. I’m so glad you’ve offered to testify, Millie.”

Offered? Vicious had told him that I was going to help them out without even asking my permission. Oh, heck no.

I tried to soothe my nerves by telling myself that if Eli was so sure and positive about what happened, then maybe lying wasn’t so bad. Maybe Jo deserved all of this for abusing her stepson. But then I remembered that before Eli was a nice man, he was a lawyer.

A lawyer who was responsible for a lot of nasty divorce settlements in Hollywood. Cases that were all about money.

He was not to be trusted, just like Vicious.

Eli escorted us back to the front door, and Dean’s mom, Helen, kissed his cheek while ignoring me. Maybe she knew more than Eli did about my breakup with her son. Or maybe she simply wasn’t as gracious as her husband about forgiving me for what I’d allegedly done.

When we walked to the car, keeping our distance from one another, Vicious said, “And to think that she thought you might someday be her daughter-in-law.”

Again, his voice was smooth and casual but his words venomous.

“Aren’t you proud of yourself for breaking us up?” I bit out, hoping I sounded just as calm as he was.

He stopped next to the car, ignoring the SoCal drizzle, and opened the door for me. I climbed into the back, scooting to the far corner to put as much space as possible between us. He joined me, but this time scooted closer than he had been earlier. Our thighs were pressed against one another.

I was just getting used to his physical proximity again when he twisted his body toward me and captured my wrist. He guided my hand to his mouth, the hot air of his breath hitting the sensitive flesh of my wrist.

“Dean ever made you feel the way you do right now?”

He stared into my eyes, searching for something. I didn’t know what it was, but I wanted him to find it in them. My stare dropped to his lips and I gulped. I could almost taste them, like that night all those years ago. Soft and warm, against all odds. And right. So right.

“Dean ever made you shake the way you are right now, even when he fucked you? Dean ever get you that far out of your comfort zone? Your home? Your precious morals?” He smiled at me, his lips a whisper from my wrist, from the heavy pulse throbbing there.

A shiver rolled down my spine, sending electricity to the rest of my body and exploding in my lower stomach.

Suddenly, it felt too hot to breathe in the car.

“Don’t lie to me, Help. I can smell your bullshit a mile away. Kind of like your normal scent, because you always lie to yourself when it comes to this. To us. I did you a huge fucking favor, breaking you up, and you’ll thank me later. Naked. For now…” He pressed the button on the intercom, and his voice turned from a hot whisper to a clipped order, breaking the spell. “Cliff, take us back home.”

It was the end of the conversation but by no means the end of the discussion.