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The attorney general is a local hero where I grew up. But back then, he was the district attorney. Young and eager to make more of himself, and he sure did. As I walk up to him, I don’t expect him to recognize me. But he smiles warmly at me when Felix and I stand in front of him. I’m not, however, surprised when he scowls at Felix.

Despite Felix’s wealth and power, Attorney General Fitzpatrick has made a name for himself by trying to clean the streets of crime, especially drugs.

Like me, I’m sure he has no desire to associate with men like Bernard, despite the campaign contribution I have no doubt he has probably made over the years.

“Ms. Matthews, it’s been too long.” He extends his hand.

“Sir, it has.”

“How is your father?”

“He’s good.” I decide to lie. Dad wouldn’t want him to know. They used to work together in our small town. That was before, but the fact he still remembers Dad warms my heart.

“That is so wonderful to hear. Please send him my best.”

“I will, sir.”

“Felix,” Attorney General Fitzpatrick says.

“Jack,” Felix says, and I’m shocked that he refers to the attorney general by his first name. I’m not the only one shocked—Jack obviously is as well.

I wonder if it is meant as a taunt. Fitzpatrick’s lips form a thin line before he shakes his head and steps to the side to greet someone else.

When it’s only the two of us, Felix looks at me. “I didn’t know you knew him.”

“I didn’t know you did,” I fire back.

He wants to ask more, I can tell by the way he narrows his eyes, but then another man is standing before us. Yet again, I’ve gone back to being eye candy. When Felix is deep in conversation, I discreetly take a step back until the distance between us grows far enough that I can make my escape. I’m almost by the wall when I feel a presence behind me, then I hear him.

“You shouldn’t be here with him,” his gravelly voice whispers in my ear.

“Don’t tell me who I can be with,” I snap back. I am sick of men telling me what to do.

“You forget yourself. But more importantly, you forget who owns you.”

“No one owns me.”

“Mr. Williams would have a difference of opinion.”

“He’s the one who sent me here with Felix. And it doesn’t matter. I thought you were done with . . . us.”

“Is that what this is? You upset because I haven’t called?”

“Shut up,” I hiss.

“Ohh. That’s what has this kitten so angry.”

“I’m done with this conversation, and don’t you ever call me a pet name.”

“Just look at me, Skye. Admit it to yourself. It will be easier. We’re inevitable. You want me. I sure as hell want you. Give in. I’ll make it worth your while.”

He’s goading me. I know he is. The fucking asshole. But it’s working. I want to touch him. No, I need to.

So instead, I step away and put distance between us. I start to make my way toward Felix, but I’m not ready to deal with his leering, so I head in the opposite direction from both men.

To the bar.

A server with a glass of champagne walks past me at exactly the right time, and I politely accept the bubbly drink. From where I’m standing, I see Tobias. I chose a bad location because now he’s front and center, and I have no choice but to watch him.

Even if there was somewhere else to look, I can’t make myself turn away. Not even when a beautiful tall and lithe blonde makes her way over to him. My hand tightens on my glass. I can’t see his face clearly from where I am, but I don’t need to see it to know exactly what’s happening.

She’s moving close. Whispering in his ear. Her hand is on his arm. She moves again, and now I see his face. I see his eyes. It’s too far away to make out his feelings, but he must like the attention because she becomes more brazen as the seconds go on.

It feels like an eternity as I watch, frozen in time. I need to look away before he sees me.

But I’m too late.

His dark gaze meets mine. I’m off. The idea of him seeing my feelings is too much. I head across the room, find Felix, and tell him I’m going to the restroom. Exiting the ballroom, I don’t make it far before I feel someone’s hands bracket my arms and pull me from behind.

Before I can speak or even scream, I’m thrust into a dark closet. My heart hammers, transporting me into my mind. Just as I’m about to go back there—just as I’m about to panic—I smell his scent. His hands come next, encompassing both sides of my face. He’s in front of me, around me, all over me. His breath fans my forehead, and his voice follows like a weighted blanket, soothing and warm.


Tags: Ava Harrison Crime