“Good. That’s where he belongs.” Her lips pinch even more.
Every word she says slices through my heart. I don’t know how to explain to her how much she’s hurting me. I don’t know how to put into words how I’m feeling. I feel lost and alone and hopeless.
Bile rises in my throat and my face crumples.
“I wanted to tell you,” I whisper.
“Well, you didn’t.”
“He’s not the man you think he is.”
“No? So why did he threaten to reveal my deepest, darkest secrets? Why did he use that information to break Liam and me apart? Why did he never—not once— speak to me and apologize for that? Huh? Why not? Does he sound like such a great guy to you?”
A sob shakes me, and I sink down onto a chair. I drop my head in my hands and rock back and forth. My little sister, the one person that I’ve always taken care of, is right. Adrian was not a good person to her. But that’s not who he is. I’ve seen who he really is—who he’s becoming, and he’s not a monster.
Back and forth, I rock on the chair as my thoughts swirl. Forward—loyalty to my sister. Back—love for the man I’ve gotten to know. Forward, back, forward, back, until I can’t make sense of any of it. Another sob shakes me and I dig my fingernails into my head.
Through the depths of my anguish, I hear Ashley sigh. She takes a step towards me and sits down beside me. She puts her hand on my thigh as I rock back and forth. My tears drop, soaking my jeans, her hand, the chair. I can’t stop them. I can’t control them.
I don’t want to lose Ashley, but I don’t want to lose Adrian, either. I have to choose between them but either one that I choose leaves me with a broken heart and a broken home. I cry some more as Ashley curls her fingers into my thigh.
I glance up at her and see that she’s crying, too. She wipes a tear away and shakes her head.
“I’m sorry.”
She barely makes any noise saying the words, but they reverberate through me. They bounce around my ribcage, circling my heart until I’m able to take a full breath for the first time since the police knocked on my door. She leans into me, wrapping her arms around me and we both cry on each other’s shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Stella. I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” I manage to say, sniffling. I wipe my snot on the back of my hand and groan, using my other hand to brush the tears off my cheeks. I take a deep, rattling breath and shake my head.
Ashley chews her lip, glancing at me. “How long have you been together?”
“About six weeks.”
“Six weeks?!” Her eyes widen, and another arrow pierces my heart.
I just nod in response. She sighs, arching her eyebrows.
Ashley nods. “Okay.”
“I should have told you.”
“Yeah.” She glances at me. “I shouldn’t have given those files to the media. I only gave them a couple—not everything.”
“The police just came to my house and took him away. Nearly knocked down my door and then tackled him in my hallway.”
“What?” She gasps, her eyes wide.
“They broke Mom’s favorite vase.”
Ashley gasps. My lip trembles as I try to hold in my tears. I’m sick of crying. I’m sick of the chaos and the drama and the uncontrollable emotions.
I don’t want any of this. I just want my sister to love me and Adrian to be by my side. I don’t want money or fame or a career case to put my name in the history books.
I just want to be happy. I want a family.
Ashley sighs again. “You have terrible taste in men.”
I snort-laugh, glancing at her. “You’re not exactly great yourself. Before Liam you didn’t do so well.”
A grin tugs at her lips and she shrugs. “Two peas in a pod, I guess.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper.
Ashley takes a deep breath. “Me neither.”
32
Adrian
When I get to the police station, someone wipes the blood from my face and slaps a bandage on my forehead. I sigh—that broken vase is yet another thing I’ll have to apologize to Stella about. The list is growing.
They stick me in a tiny interrogation room and leave me there, stewing in my own thoughts. I sit there, unmoving, until the door opens and two men walk in.
The first is the taller of the two, and has short, salt-and-pepper hair and a nasty snarl on his lips. He doesn’t look at me when he sits down. The second man is stockier, with an ill-fitting brown suit. His face is impassive, and he stands in the corner watching me. His full beard is streaked with white and it does much to hide his expression.
The man sitting across from me carefully intertwines his fingers on the table and finally swings his eyes up to mine. He arches an eyebrow.
I don’t know how to act, so I just wait for him to speak.
“My name is Special Agent Dawkins, and this is Special Agent Ulster,” he nods to the man in the corner. “Do you know why you’re here?”
“I’ve seen the news.”
“Mr. Maguire, you’re facing some very serious charges here.”
“I’d like to speak to my lawyer.”
“You will.” Dawkins pinches his lips together and looks me up and down. He exhales, leaning back in his chair. It squeaks gently against the floor, but otherwise there isn’t a sound in the room.
It’s hard to keep your face neutral when you’re thinking about keeping your face neutral. A thousand questions fly through my brain. I’m somewhere between panic and resignation, with my nerves balled up in a tight spot in the pit of my stomach.
Maybe I deserve this. I made a dirty deal with Hansen Constructions, and I should be punished. Dropping the case was one thing, but I haven’t really atoned for my sins. I haven’t paid. I lost my job, my reputation, my dream of one day sitting in the White House, but I haven’t lost everything.
If anything, the past month has been the happiest I’ve been in years. A part of me feels like that’s wrong. I shouldn’t be allowed to be this happy. I haven’t done anything to deserve a woman like Stella. I’ve been selfish and cruel and power-hungry, and the past month was just a taste of what I could have.
The other shoe has dropped. Now, I truly understand what I’m losing. All the things I thought I wanted—I don’t actually care about at all. But losing my chance to be with Stella…
That hurts.
I keep waiting for her to burst through the door in a blaze of lawyerly glory, and with every second that goes by, my hopes sink deeper and deeper.
Maybe seeing the police burst through the door was the last straw. Maybe it made her realize that she doesn’t want the trouble of being with me. She already hates the public eye—the last thing she’ll want is public condemnation of her new boyfriend.
Is that what I am, even? A boyfriend?
I take a deep breath and shake my head. A boyfriend would be someone that Stella is proud to be with, not someone she hides away.
I glance at the door of the investigation room and shake my head. She won’t come. This isn’t the life she wants, and it’s not the life that I want for her, either. What Stella should do is run as far away from me as possible and not look back.
I’m cursed. I only bring chaos to the people around me, and there’s no happy ending for me. This is the end of the road.
I take a deep breath and swing my eyes to Dawkins. I nod.
“What do you want to know?” I run my fingers through my hair and take a resigned breath. Dawkins and Ulster exchange a glance, and Ulster’s eyebrows draw together ever so slightly. It’s the most movement I’ve seen on his face since he walked in.
Dawkins clears his throat. “I want you to tell me about Hansen Constructions, specifically John Hansen.”
I nod. “Okay. I met him at an industry event—some gala or fundraiser, about three years ago.”
“Which gala?”
I sigh. “I don’t remember.”
“Try.”
“Do you have any idea how many of these things I go to in a year? In a month? In a week? Multiple.”
He leans forward. “Try.”
Sighing, I rub my temples. “It was a Denver Broncos event—they were starting some foundation for the kids, I don’t remember what, exactly. All I know is that John Hansen was a part owner, and I was the city councilor in the district where they were building the kids’ center.”
Ulster takes a step forward. “John Hansen is a part owner in the Denver Broncos?” His voice is gruff and low.
I shrug. “That’s what he told me.”
“And that’s when you told him of your political ambitions? You were campaigning at the time, no?”
“Not yet. He gave me some tickets to the next Broncos game—good tickets. A private box with full catering and an open bar. I took my father. It was a good time.”
Dawkins waves his hand to silence me. “When did you start discussing the deal for the riverfront development project.”
Ulster’s eyes are boring a hole through my skull. Dawkins is holding his breath, staring at me with beady black eyes. My heart thumps and I take a deep breath. Something feels off. I shake my head.
“I’d like to have a lawyer present for the rest of the questions.”
The two men exchange a glance. Without a word, Dawkins pushes his chair back and Ulster knocks on the door. It swings open from the outside and they walk out.
“Hey!” I call out after them. “Wait! What’s going on? Are you charging me with something?”
I stand up, but the door closes and locks with a deafening bang. I slump back down in my chair, staring at the four walls around me.
Even though Stella should stay away, I still wish she were here.
33
Stella
“What do you mean I can’t see him? This is unconstitutional—it’s been almost two hours. Let me see him now.” My chest heaves as I take big, gulping breaths to try to calm my racing heart. The police officer behind the glass looks at me with an arched eyebrow, her dark brown hair pulled back in a tight bun.
She shrugs. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, I can’t do that right now.”
“I’m his lawyer!”
“Hold on, please.”
She turns away from me and walks through a door and out of sight. I let out a frustrated growl, spinning back around towards Liam and Ashley.
Ashley wrings her hands. Her forehead creases and she looks at me with eyes full of worry.
“I’m so sorry, Stella,” she whispers.
I shake my head. “Stop saying that.”
I pace back and forth in the police station, my stress mounting with every step. My shoes clack on the worn tile floors and I inhale the stale, musky air of the waiting room. A man rocks back and forth in the corner, muttering to himself.
Liam puts his arm around Ashley and kisses her as she rubs her pregnant stomach. My blood boils. It’s not right that we’re out here and Adrian is in there on his own. I want to scream and rip the chairs off the floor. I want to smash the bulletproof glass in front of the desk and hurl insults at every police officer in this station.
I look at my sister and sigh. Being here is probably bringing back all kinds of anxiety—her first husband was a cop before he died. Police stations don’t exactly feel like a safe place for her. I take a deep breath.
“You guys don’t need to be here. I can handle this on my own.”
“I’m not leaving.” She sets her mouth in a thin line and shakes her head. Liam looks at her and then at me. He shrugs.
“My brother isn’t an angel, but he’s not a monster, either. He doesn’t deserve this.”
I sit down beside the two of them, leaning my elbows on my knees. Glancing at Liam, I sigh. “He wanted to make amends with you, always talked about it.”
“So why didn’t he call me?”
“Didn’t know how, I guess,” I shake my head. “I guess all the animosity between you two went too far.”
“And whose fault is that?” Liam spits. I wince, and he takes a deep breath. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. You can feel however you want to feel.” I avoid his eye, keeping my gaze fixed on the door to the interior section of the police station. I can feel Liam’s eyes on me and I finally turn to look at him. He tilts his head curiously.
“You care about him a lot, don’t you?”
I smile sadly. “I wish I didn’t, but yeah. I do.”
“Even after everything that happened last year?”
I chew my lip. “It was hard to get over it all. I guess when he stepped down from being mayor was when I realized that he might not be a bad guy after all. And the past month…” I take a deep breath, glancing at my sister and her husband. “He really surprised me.”
Ashley frowns, rubbing her belly up and down. She closes her eyes and takes deep breaths in through her mouth and out through her nose. I hate that she’s here. She’s so stressed and worried and feels guilty when she should be at home relaxing.
This whole thing has gotten completely out of control. I hate that she took those files to the press, obviously, but I understand her anger. And now, she understands how I feel about Adrian and she’s trying to show me that she gets it.
The four of us—me, Adrian, Ashley, and Liam—we’re locked in this mess that has just gotten bigger and bigger and bigger, and now it’s almost too big to handle.
If Adrian goes to prison…
I shake my head. I don’t even want to talk about it. Before I can go down that mental spiral, the door opens and a tall, serious-looking man steps through.
“Stella King?”
I nod, standing up. “That’s me.”
“Follow me.” He spins on his heels without waiting to see if I’m following. I scurry after him, glancing back at Liam and Ashley.
“I’ll call you. You don’t need to wait here.”
Ashley just nods, still taking her deep breaths and rubbing her stomach. I follow the tall man—a detective, maybe—towards an interrogation room at the back of the building. When we step inside, I see Adrian slumped on a chair with his head in his hands. He doesn’t move when the door opens, and I make a noise.
He looks up and his whole face transforms. “Stella,” he breathes, his eyes wide.
“Adrian!” I can’t say much else. I slide my hand over his arm, squeeze his hand, and then turn to the man across from us. His partner joins us in the room and stands in the corner. They bring me a chair, and we sit around the small steel table.
“Special Agent Dawkins, FBI,” the tall man says. He points to the bearded man in the corner. “Special Agent Ulster. Now, Mr. Maguire. It’s time for you to talk. When did you and John Hansen start discussing the riverfront project?”
“What are you charging him with?” I interject. “The case regarding the riverfront project was closed. You can’t convict him of any corruption charges relating to that.”
Dawkins arches an eyebrow. He glances at Ulster and sighs. “It’s part of an ongoing investigation, Ms. King. I’m not at liberty to divulge any details.”
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” I growl. “I want to know what my client is charged with, otherwise we are walking right out that door and I will have your badges for the way you’ve conducted yourselves.” I puff my chest out, swinging my eyes from one burly man to the other.
The man in the corner, Ulster, sighs and takes a step forward and drops a stack of files on the table.
“We’re charging Mr. Maguire with multiple counts of fraud, falsifying a home loan, and money laundering.”
“What?” Adrian frowns. “Money laundering? I don’t know…”
“Quiet, Adrian,” I say.
The two men exchange a glance as my heart starts to hammer. I look at the files that Ulster dropped on the table—financial records for Hansen Constructions and Adrian’s personal finances. Large deposits and expenses are highlighted, and Ulster chuckles.
Dawkins leans forwar
d, staring at Adrian with hard eyes.
“Look, you’re a small fish here. We want to hear what you know about Hansen Constructions. If you cooperate, this could all go away. If you don’t, well, we have a laundry list of federal charges that we can bring against you.”
I glance at Adrian, who’s staring at the two men. He looks terrified. He looks at me, shaking his head as if to say I have no idea what’s going on.
A big part of me wants to believe him. I want him to be the man I got to know over the past six weeks. I want him to be the loving, kind boyfriend that I’ve been dating.
But at the back of my mind, I can’t help but wonder if he is just rotten to the core.
I nod to the federal agents. “What assurances do I have that if he cooperates, my client won’t be charged?” I lean forward, glancing from one man to the other. Dawkins sighs in frustration. I lean back, crossing my arms. “Whatever it is, I want it in writing, otherwise he’s not saying a word.”
Ulster nods. “Fine. We’ll get it in writing that in exchange for providing information, Adrian will be cleared of any charges relating to his involvement with Hansen Constructions and his position as Mayor of Denver. Can you wait half an hour?”
I nod.
“And those files that were given to the media—have you got them? We contacted them, but they only had a few text messages. They said their source promised them more. We’ll need everything.”
I glance at Adrian and then take a deep breath. “I don’t have them, but I know who does. I can get them for you.”
The men nod, and then knock on the door. No one answers for a second, and Dawkins knocks harder. Finally, it swings open and the police officer from the front desk appears. Her face is flushed and she looks frazzled.
“Ma’am,” she says to me, panting. “You need to come.”
“What’s going on?” The panic in her face makes my heart skip a beat. I take a step towards her and hear a commotion near the lobby. People are standing, and one man is running towards the lobby where Liam and Ashley are waiting. I glance at the woman again.
Ruined: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 15
