Devious Vow: Chapter 25

The “L” word.

I smile to myself as I lean back in my chair. I drum my fingers on the desk in front of me, shaking my head in grinning disbelief.

I’ve never said that to a woman before. It’s also more than slightly out of character for me to act on impulse and just blurt things out as they hit my mind. I’ve spent my career honing my ability to craft my words, think them over, and deliver them in the perfect wrapping.

…Or bullet casing, depending.

But with Eloise, there’s no “crafting” of my words.

With her, I’m brutally honest, to a dangerous, unprecedented degree. Which should scare me, or at the very least concern me.

It doesn’t.

Probably because everything I said to her last night is completely true. I did spend the last ten years telling myself I hated Eloise. Convincing myself of that was the only way to get past the brutal truth—that when I walked into that dorm room that day and thought it was her, and assumed it was a supremely fucked up, cruel way for her to mess with me, it broke me more than I wanted to admit.

If Eloise had been just some random college hookup, I’d have gotten over it without blinking. I’d have shaken my head, gone to the dance anyway, and picked up the first girl who even smiled at me to fuck all the Eloise out of my system.

But she was never random. Or casual, or meaningless.

She was the everything.

A knock on my door has me frowning as I shake myself from my thoughts.

“Earth to Alistair?”

I roll my eyes at my brother. “Yes?”

He smirks and steps into my office. “For the record, that was my third knock.”

“Court acknowledges the prosecution’s evidence but ignores it as unsubstantiated and irrelevant.”

My brother grins as he perches on the corner of my desk.

“How’d things go last night at Massimo’s?”

“You don’t really want me to answer that question.”

He arches a stern brow. “How worried should I be?”

“It’s nothing.” I wave him off as casually as I can. “Massimo got drunk and…well, was his usual charming self. That’s all.”

Also, I took his wife home and told her I loved her before fucking her all night.

“I see,” he grunts. “Can I assume that’s why Eloise isn’t in the office today?”

“You can.”

The truth is, Eloise is taking a personal day to sit tight at my place. She texted Massimo last night that she was mad and needed to stay at a hotel to cool off. His only response was “fine”.

Because he’s a big charmer like that.

Gabriel sighs. “I really don’t need to warn you again about getting involved with Massimo Carveli’s wife, right?”

“Of course not.”

“You’re not involved with her, correct?”

“Gabriel. You know how much I hate lying to family.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose tiredly and looks away.

“I’m just going to pretend you said ‘Yes, of course, Gabriel. I would never do anything that reckless and fucking stupid’.”

“Wow, you’ve got my tone down pat.”

He sighs. “Well, speaking of family, Charles just walked in demanding a meeting upstairs with the three of us.”

“I think I’d rather step off the roof, if it’s okay with you.”

“Taylor’s already up there.”

Fuck.

“Leaving her alone with him would be pretty unforgivable.”

“Yes it would,” he mutters. “Don’t worry, though, she’s not alone with him.”

When I frown, his lips twist.

“Our lovely step-grandmother Caroline is in there too.”

Shoot me now.

“I don’t like the way this is dragging out.”

God, he’s such a pompous blowhard. The fact that Charles is A, not a lawyer, and B, a fucking idiot, seems to be woefully lost on him.

“How exactly is building a solid defense dragging anything out, Charles?” Gabriel says dryly.

“It looks weak, that’s why,” Caroline chips in.

“Oh, good. The gold-digging sea hag with the IQ of a walnut has some thoughts on the situation.”

Both Caroline and Charles whirl to stare at me in shock and fury when I say it. Behind them, Gabriel shakes his head at me and Taylor bites back a grin as she rolls her eyes.

Oops.

“What the fuck did you just call me?!” Caroline shrieks. She makes to come at me fighting—which would, in all seriousness, be fucking hilarious. Our grandfather grabs her and yanks her back before she can, though.

Pity.

“Now you listen to me, you little bastard,” he growls.

My jaw grinds.

My grandfather has called Gabriel and I terrible things since we were eleven, and I’m used to it by now. He’s a piece of shit and a terrible grandfather: that’s what pieces of shit and terrible grandfathers do. But I do take umbrage with “bastard”, given the details of my origin, and he knows it.

“You can’t speak to her like that,” he snaps.

“I literally just did.”

Charles glares daggers at me. “Where are we with the Chinellato case? Really.”

Taylor clears her throat. “All due respect, Mr. Bla⁠—”

“He’s not due a shred of respect, actually,” I interrupt. “But do go on.”

Taylor shoots me a look before turning back to Charles. “You know we can’t discuss the case with you, Mr. Black. It’s part of the bylaws of the board.”

Charles smiles patronizingly at her. “I’m aware of the fucking bylaws, Ms. Crown,” he snaps. “But I’m past giving a shit. This is about the reputation of the firm⁠—”

“Yes, our firm,” Gabriel snarls. “It may surprise you, Charles, but we’re more than slightly invested in it.”

“Then get. The ball. Rolling!” Charles yells, startling even Caroline. He levels a cold smile at us. “You’re aware, I assume, that with my dear wife here also on the board, I now control a majority vote.”

Obviously, we are. But interestingly, he hasn’t used that majority to “get rid of us” like he’s threatened to do in the past.

I take it back. That’s not interesting.

It’s more than slightly worrying.

“I’ve held back, because for all of our bickering,” Charles continues, “we’re still family. But do you have Roberto’s alibi sealed up tight?”

I roll my eyes. “Jesus Christ, Charles. Will you fuck off and let us do our jobs? Yes, we have your fucking buddy’s alibi down.”

It’s airtight, too.

During the timeframe when Roberto is accused of shooting Federico Lombardi in Brooklyn, he was in fact clear across Manhattan in New Jersey, rutting away between the thighs of one Mrs. Valerie Siff. And as it happens, Mrs. Siff is more than happy to stand up and court and tell that to a judge and jury.

Now, why is Mrs. Siff, who is still very much married to Mr. Siff, who happens to be the deputy Mayor of the ultra-rich and snooty Montclaire, New Jersey, so eager to admit to her infidelity involving some shithead gangster like Roberto?

Simple. Because Valerie only fucked Roberto, whom she apparently met at some dive bar, because she’d figured out her husband was banging one of his interns.

Needless to say, the extremely messy divorce is already underway, and this is Valerie’s little “fuck you” to her soon-to-be ex.

“Valerie Siff is coached and ready for the stand. We’re scheduled for three weeks from now.”

“Do it this week.”

I frown at Charles. “Excuse me?”

“Reach out to Judge Hawkins and request this week instead.”

Taylor rubs her temples. “Mr. Black, that’s…really not how any of this works.”

He sneers at her. “Trust me, sweetheart.”

I wince. Taylor fucking hates being called that, especially by scummy old assholes like Charles.

“I have it on good authority that one of her cases this week has been rescheduled and there’s an opening Thursday in her courtroom. Make it ours.”

He turns to wrap an arm around Caroline’s surgically edited waist before leveling a hard look at us.

“Make it happen, or I’ll make good on my threat of using the board to remove you. Sweetheart over here can stay, but you two ungrateful pricks will be looking for new jobs. Am I clear?”

No one responds. Charles smiles.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

After he and Caroline leave, Taylor, Gabriel and I exhale slowly.

“Is it just me, or is he getting worse?” Taylor mutters.

“Maybe it’s something terminal,” I shrug.

“We can hope,” Gabriel mutters. “Fuck,” he swears.

I shake my head. “Relax. He’s not going to kick us out of the firm. He’d have done that already if he wanted to. No, he wants us here, but he wants us living under his threats.”

Gabriel frowns. “You mean he wants to control us?”

“Exactly.”

“How is that better?”

“Working on that,” I mutter.

“What do we think about this new court date thing?” Gabriel sighs after a pause.

“As much as I hate to say it,” I shake my head again, “I think we need to consider it. Not because that asshole’s demanding it. But who the fuck knows what’s going to happen next week when Valerie and her husband head to divorce court? If she backs out or decides to take him back…”

Taylor nods. “Yeah, I wondered about that, too.”

“Shit.” Gabriel scowls as he glances at his Rolex. “Fine, I’ll reach out to Judge Hawkins’ office.”

“Keep us posted,” I mutter as he walks out.

When he’s gone, I suck on my teeth and then glance at Taylor.

“Sooo…”

She smirks. “What do you need? I recognize the Alister Black ‘I need a favor’ look when I see it.”

I make a face. “It’s a big one. You still heading to Chicago tomorrow?”

Taylor’s scheduled a meeting with some prospective new clients, and a few existing ones who live in the Windy City. She’s also going to scope out some office space, just to get a feel for things if we decide to go ahead with expanding out there.

Taylor nods. “Yes,” she grins. “You want me to bring back a deep dish or Cubs tickets?”

“More like I need you to take Eloise with you.”

Taylor’s brow arches. “I see.”

“It’s not what you⁠—”

“Alistair.”

“Yes?”

“For the sake of both our friendship and professional relationship, please don’t ever talk to me like I’m a fucking idiot ever again.”

My mouth twists. “Sure. Sorry about that.”

She nods. “Apology accepted. C’mon. It’s exactly what I think with you and Eloise, isn’t it.”

“Objection. Leading the witness.”

“Fuck off. Sustained. And guilty as fuck, while we’re at it.” She sighs. “I’m assuming Gabriel has already told you how terrible an idea this is?”

“Correct.”

“Then I’ll save my breath.” She eyes me dubiously. “Fine, but only because I like you, and might like her even more. She can come.”

I smile. “Yeah, well… That’s the thing.”

“What?”

“I need you to ‘bring her’,” I air-quote. “But not actually bring her.”

Taylor, who’s the opposite of an idiot, eyes me coolly.

“Okay,” she finally says, nodding. “But do you know what you’re doing?”

“Mostly?”

“Let’s fucking hope so, Alistair.”