Ruined: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Monroe, Lilian

  I sigh, closing my eyes and dropping my chin to my chest.

  I need to get laid. Things are getting desperate.

  Putting the wine glasses in the dishwasher, I glance out the window at my half-fixed deck. The stack of timbers is still sitting where Mark laid them, untouched since he left.

  I could call him. I could scratch the itch and get rid of this pressure in the pit of my stomach. It would be easy.

  But as soon as the thought crosses my mind, I know I can’t do it. The thought of having sex with Mark is almost nauseating right now. I can’t believe I dated him for as long as I did.

  I know I can’t call him. I wouldn’t be able to go through with it, and it would be messy. It would give him the wrong idea.

  … Kind of like inviting Adrian Maguire over to my house and making out with him in my kitchen. That might give him the wrong idea, too.

  I groan, closing my eyes. The problem is, as soon as I close my eyes, I see Adrian. I still feel the whisper of his lips against mine, and the shadow of his hands on my body. I can feel him next to me, whether I want to or not.

  A cold shower—that’ll help.

  I practically jog up to the master ensuite and turn the shower on full blast. I strip my clothes off and jump in, yelping at the cold and immediately turning the hot water up.

  Maybe a warm shower will have the same effect. I stand under the stream, running my hands through my hair and taking deep breaths. My whole body is on fire.

  I know I shouldn’t go down this path, but my hands move of their own volition. Down my stomach, over my mound, until I shiver and touch my bud. The last thing I should do is perpetuate this fantasy. I shouldn’t even be thinking of Adrian this way.

  But my fingers drag through my wet slit, and I lean against the shower wall until my whole body shudders. I gasp, the orgasm crashing through me with surprising force. I grip the cold shower tiles with the pads of my fingers and work my other hand until I’m completely spent.

  Panting, I stand under the shower stream and close my eyes. My legs feel like jelly as the water drips over my burning body.

  I shouldn’t have done that.

  It was inappropriate, and I don’t know how I’ll look Adrian in the eye the next time I see him.

  And yet, I don’t regret it. Delicious tingles go down my thighs as I think of him and all the things I’d like him to do to me. I wash myself slowly, and then get out of the shower and sigh.

  I know that won’t be the last time I think of him when I touch myself. It was too good, too intense, too hot to stop. I may have crossed a line, but at least I was on my own.

  I haven’t actually slept with him—there’s that, at least. At least I had the self-control to tell him to stop. At least I just did that in the privacy of my own shower, and I haven’t made a royal mess of it all. It’s still salvageable.

  In a way, since the kiss—and the shower—my mind feels clearer. I head downstairs and make myself a cup of tea before sitting down at my computer. I find the contract that Adrian signed with Hansen Constructions for the riverfront project and print it off.

  Going through it feels like I have fresh eyes. I start highlighting, making notes, annotating, until I get into a sort of Zen state. By the time I’ve finished the contract, I think I have an idea.

  The tender documents between the City of Denver and Hansen constructions don’t actually involve Adrian at all. There are no emails, no correspondences, nothing linking him directly to the awarding of the contract. For the first time, reading it over, I notice everyone else’s name. He hasn’t even signed it—the project manager for the city did.

  The only connection between Adrian and Hansen Constructions is the campaign donation, and that’s not illegal.

  If we could put pressure on the DA to drop the case, Adrian would avoid jail time and the embarrassment of a trial. He’d probably have to resign, but at least he wouldn’t be completely ruined. He’d save his reputation, mostly.

  I write out notes for myself, and then read them over.

  When I finish, I take a deep breath.

  It could work.

  It’s not certain, and there’s a chance that the DA wouldn’t accept a settlement even with what I’ve found, but it’s worth a shot.

  I’ll bring it to Theresa tomorrow, and then we can present it to Adrian. If he agrees, he could be free of this ugly case in a matter of weeks, if not sooner.

  My heart thumps in my chest. Once the case is over, would he want to see me again? Would I want to see him? Maybe the only reason he’s showing interest in me is because he knows that Ashley’s testimony could ruin his life and his career. Maybe he doesn’t like me at all, and this is just him playing the game, like he always does.

  I look at my notes and shake my head. I’m being selfish and ridiculous.

  He’s my client, and I need to work this case to the best of my abilities. And right now, his best shot at coming out of this unscathed is right here on my notepad. My personal feelings for him, for my sister, for Liam—none of that matters. Whatever happens after the case is of no concern to me. If Adrian likes me as much as he seems to, the case being over will be a good thing.

  I take a deep, raking breath and groan. This was a lot easier when I just hated the man. Now, everything is a hell of a lot more complicated.

  14

  Adrian

  There’s a black sedan waiting behind the gates when I get home. I drive through, glance at the license plate and my stomach drops. I’ve been spending the entire drive home fantasizing about all the things I want to do to Stella King. Now, I need to face the man I’ve been avoiding all weekend—the governor. He follows me up the long drive and parks behind me. When I get out, I hear his car door open and close.

  “Governor,” I say.

  “I was expecting your call today.”

  “Let’s go inside,” I say, glancing towards the gates. They seem quiet, but reporters have a habit of poking out of nowhere. Governor Hardy follows me up the steps and into the big foyer. I lead him to a smaller living room near the back of the house.

  When I offer him a drink, he shakes his head. “I won’t be here long.”

  I nod, taking a seat across from him. “What can I do for you?”

  “I don’t take kindly to being ignored, Mr. Mayor.”

  “Oliver, please,” I say, leaning back on the couch and crossing my ankle over my knee. “I wasn’t ignoring you. It’s Sunday!”

  “I trust you heard my offer?”

  “What, to go on an indefinite leave of absence? Is that an ‘offer’ to you? Doesn’t sound very appealing from where I’m sitting.”

  The governor leans forward. His grey eyebrows draw together and his beady black eyes get even darker. He shakes his head and points his finger between the two of us.

  “This isn’t a negotiation, Adrian. You’re done. Being near you is a death sentence for anyone else’s career.”

  “Wow, don’t beat around the bush,” I snort, arching an eyebrow. Outside, I’m unfazed. Inside, I’m panicking. He’s not wrong.

  “You know it, I know it, every councilor in town knows it. You’re finished, Adrian. Might as well bow out gracefully. If you do, I’ll testify as a character witness. A governor’s word will go a long way.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Well,” he shrugs. “I can’t make any promises about where you’ll end up. I’d like to see you land on your feet. You’re a bright young man, but the charges against you are severe.”

  Anger bristles under my skin. “Are you threatening me?”

  The governor makes a grunting noise, waving his hand in front of his face. “Please. If I were threatening you, you’d know it. Look, you gave it a good try. You ran your campaign well and surprised everyone when you won. I’m impressed you made it this far—you did good, son. But it’s over now.”

  “I think I get to decide when it’s over.”

  Governor Hardy chuckles and heaves himself off the couch. He straight
ens his jacket and checks his cuffs, then swings his eyes back to me. “You’ll learn soon enough that you have no say in deciding when this is over. I’m expecting your announcement tomorrow afternoon, at the latest.”

  I watch him walk away. My head is spinning.

  I went from being worried about the former police chief, to elated after kissing Stella, to this. How dare he waltz into my house and tell me that my career is over? Who does he think he is? Who does he think he’s dealing with? I’m not going to let him walk all over me. I’m nowhere near done.

  Pacing back and forth across the living room, I run my fingers through my hair. Anger wages a war with reason inside me. If I resign—or take an ‘indefinite leave of absence’—then I most likely avoid jail time, or at least I avoid being dragged through the mud in the press. If I don’t resign, there’s a small chance I could get out of this unscathed.

  The risks are big though, and not just for me. If I fight this head-on, I risk dragging Ashley, my brother, Stella, and a whole host of other people down with me. I’ve already alienated my voter base and lost so much support from the city. My riverfront project is in shambles, and I have almost no one fighting in my corner.

  If I give up now, what do I gain? I’ll always be guilty in the eyes of Denver’s voters. I’ll have no prospects of a political career, and then what? I go work for the family business again?

  I take a deep breath and slump onto the couch. To be fair, I am guilty. Maybe resigning is the best option for me.

  I think of Stella’s face, and how she looked at me the first time she saw me. She hated me—maybe still hates me, even though there’s something between us. That’s how everyone would look at me if I gave up. Everyone would hate me. Everyone would see me as the mayor who sold the city to line his own already fat pockets.

  I don’t want to be that man.

  Straightening myself up, I take a deep breath.

  I’m not going to resign. I’m not going to give up. I’m not going to go quietly. I’m going to fight this thing to the bitter end, and I’ll do whatever it takes to clear my name.

  Maybe I’ll never work in politics again, but at least people will be able to look at me with something other than revulsion.

  A voice at the back of my head reminds me that I did collude with Hansen Constructions. All the things that I’m accused of are true. I’m guilty. If I resign, it might be the first step in admitting those things to myself.

  As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I squash it down.

  I can’t think like that. The minute I start thinking of myself as guilty is the minute I start dying a slow, painful death.

  With a deep breath, I make my decision. I’m fighting. It doesn’t matter who else is in the line of fire, as long as I have a chance to clear my name. I’m going to face this head-on. Fuck the consequences, fuck the risks, fuck everything. The alternative is lying down and giving up.

  I can’t do that.

  Maybe it makes me the selfish bastard that Stella thinks I am, but I don’t care. I’m fighting this thing to the bitter end. Governor Hardy can shove his indefinite leave of absence up his generous ass.

  On Monday morning, I head over to the lawyers’ offices. Theresa is there to greet me and leads me to the same conference room where we had our first meeting. Stella isn’t far behind. She glances at me, her cheeks reddening. She’s clutching a notepad to her chest, and nods to Theresa. A paralegal and a junior lawyer follow them in.

  Theresa clears her throat. “Thanks for coming in, Mr. Mayor. I have some good news.”

  “Oh?” My ears perk up. Theresa nods to Stella.

  Stella smiles at me and looks at her notepad. “I found a few inconsistencies in the original tender documents, and I think we can argue that Hansen Constructions were awarded the job first of all on merit, since they were the least expensive, and second of all without your knowledge or influence. Your name is nowhere in these documents. If we can argue that, then the campaign donations become irrelevant.”

  Theresa nods. “I’ll be honest, Mr. Mayor, it’s thin. It’s not enough to win in open court, but it could be enough to strike a deal with the DA. If he thinks we’re building a convincing case, we could settle this quickly and quietly.”

  “Settle out of court?” I adjust my tie and swallow. That doesn’t sound like clearing my name. It doesn’t sound like facing things head-on.

  Theresa nods. “Yes. Stella and I will present this to the DA in a couple hours, and we’ll come back to you with what he says. In my experience, he’ll be willing to drop the corruption charges if you agree to resign.”

  “I’ll be acquitted?”

  “The case will be dropped.”

  “But my name won’t be cleared.”

  “Well, no,” Stella says. She frowns at me and glances at Theresa. “Mr. Mayor, with all due respect, the chances of you being acquitted in this type of case—”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I want to fight this.”

  “Mr. Mayor,” Theresa says, splaying her hands on the table between us. “You have to understand that if we take this to court, you will almost certainly lose. There are no lawyers in the country that will be able to convince a jury that you are innocent.”

  “Almost certainly,” I repeat.

  Theresa raises her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

  “You said I would ‘almost certainly lose’. That means it’s not certain.”

  “Well, I—”

  “I’m not going to run away from this!” My pulse is thudding through my veins. Theresa takes a deep breath, but it’s Stella who interjects.

  “Mr. Mayor, the consequences will be far-reaching. It’s not just you that will be impacted, it’s your entire team.” And my sister, her eyes plead. I know what she’s saying, but I can’t give in. I can’t sacrifice everything for her.

  I look away from her and harden my heart. I shake my head. “I don’t want to do that. I want to be acquitted.” Theresa opens her mouth to say something, but I silence her by standing up. “The answer is no.”

  I don’t take another breath until I’m out of the building. I feel exhilarated and confused and angry and afraid. I feel like I’ve stood up for myself and maybe made a big mistake.

  It’s not until I’m nearly at my car that I hear Stella calling my name. Her heels clack on the pavement as she jogs towards me, her dark blonde hair streaming out behind her.

  “Adrian! Wait!”

  15

  Stella

  “What are you doing?” I’m breathless when I get to him, and I make a mental note to do more cardio. “What was that about?”

  “What was what about?’ His eyes are cold.

  I frown, shaking my head. “You’ll ruin your life, Adrian. And you’ll ruin Ashley’s and your brother’s in the process.” And mine.

  “I don’t give a fuck about my brother.”

  It feels like a punch in the gut. I hear the unsaid words: I don’t give a fuck about your sister, either. I look at this man—the man I thought I’d judged wrongly—and I know that he’s exactly who I thought he was. Selfish, arrogant, conceited.

  I’ve been so stupid.

  With a deep breath, I take a step towards him. “Adrian, this is your best shot. You will not win in open court.”

  “Well, maybe I need a new lawyer.”

  “Maybe you do. That would solve a lot of problems for me.” Fire ignites in my heart as the anger rips through my body. My hands tremble, and I grip my notebook tighter. His eyes are cold. He shakes his head.

  “You don’t get it.”

  “I don’t get it? Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “You don’t know what it’s like.”

  “Oh boo-fucking-hoo, Adrian. Little rich boy doesn’t get to play politics anymore. Do you realize what you’re doing? You’re ruining people’s lives. You’re ruining your reputation. You’re putting your entire future at risk. For what? For the newspapers to say ‘acquitted’ instead of ‘charges dropped’? Here’s a n
ewsflash for you: no one will remember your name in six months’ time. No, scratch that—six weeks’ time.”

  He shakes his head.

  I snort. “Don’t believe me? You’re not as fucking special as you think you are.”

  “That’s not what you thought last night.”

  I stare at him as he wrinkles his nose, his face twisted into a bitter snarl. I shake my head and sigh. “No, but last night, I was a fool.”

  I turn around and walk away from him. Every step strengthens my resolve, until I find myself walking through Theresa’s office door. Theresa looks up at me with an arched eyebrow.

  “I won’t work this case. If you want to fire me over it, that’s fine, but I will not work with that man.”

  Theresa looks at me in shock. “What? Because of that meeting?”

  “Because my sister is distraught. Because my family is being torn apart for that selfish, arrogant bastard. Because defending him will do nothing for my career. I won’t do it. I’ll clear my desk and be out of here this afternoon.”

  “Stella, wait.” Theresa stands up as I reach the door. I turn around, my lip trembling. I can hardly contain my tears. She comes around her desk and puts her hands on my upper arms.

  “I’m not going to fire you. Take the day off. I’ll get Michael to pick up the case—he has some relevant experience. Just do a handover and the case will be off your desk.”

  My eyes widen. “You mean it?”

  “I’m not going to lose a good lawyer over a prick like Adrian Maguire.”

  I snort-laugh as a tear falls out of my eye. Theresa sighs and hands me a tissue. “Come on. I’ve never seen you cry, and I never would have guessed that it would be over a man like that.”

  “It’s just such a mess,” I say as I dab my eyes. “A total mess.”

  “Go to your sister.” She squeezes my arms again and then turns back to walk to her desk. I slip out of her office and take a deep breath. I grab my purse from my office and head for the elevators.