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I smile wolfishly. “How bad?”
“How about an affair.”
My lips curl. Fuck yes.
One of Preston Hall’s favorite things to bleat on about in his campaign is “family values”.
A sealed file on him having an affair is a golden fucking bullet presented to me on a velvet cushion.
“You’re fucking kidding me.”
Jason chuckles. “Nope. And it gets better. She was just a teenager.”
Jesus, Preston. I’m going to FUCK you with this.
“Not only that, but when the dear Governor tried to end things, she went nuts. This girl tried every trick in the book: accused him of assault, asked for money, threatened to tell his wife…serious Jerry Springer shit.”
“How real is this file?”
“Oh, it’s real. Signed affidavits, court documents, police reports. It’s all there. As soon as Judge Myers gets the un-redacted version on his desk, I’ll make sure it heads your way.”
“Jason, if you ever decide you’d like to make real money again…”
He chuckles. “Yup, you’ll be the first guy I call. Better have a corner office waiting for me.”
“It’s a deal.”
“Enjoy the Guggenheim, Gabriel. I’ll be in touch.”
I’m grinning from ear to ear as I hang up. This is better than I was even hoping for. Governor Hall is going to be fucked when my campaign makes sure this “leaks”. I mean he was already getting knocked around over the corruption and bribery allegations, and the rumors about him being a bag of dicks to his staff. But that kind of thing doesn’t sway voters.
Cheating on your wife with a teenaged intern sure as fuck does, though.
I mention what I’ve heard to Meredith, who looks downright gleeful as she starts hammering away on her tablet, like she’s already hiring the decorators to redo the Governor’s mansion.
I catch Fumi’s eye across the museum floor. When she grins at me, there’s no stopping the one that creeps over my face.
Fuck me. I think I’m falling for my fake wife.
I move smoothly around the event, shaking hands and smiling for cameras. Behind the mask, all I’m thinking about is that somehow, I’ve found in her an equal who shares in the same violent delights and dark cravings that I do.
The only question is, how deep will she get?
How deep into my true darkness could she get before she runs for the hills?
Eventually, I find myself on one of the upper levels of the Guggenheim, looking down on the gala below.
“You throw a wonderful party, Mr. Black.”
I sigh silently, sliding my mask back into place. I turn to thank whoever it is who’s found me up here. Then I freeze, and my jaw grits.
“You don’t have a Columbia Law reunion tonight, Mr. Ito?” I smile, my eyes narrowed.
Takato grins a dark, malicious smile at me.
“I’m confident you weren’t on tonight’s guest list,” I growl. “So I suggest you make your exit before I have security do it for you.”
Takato just keeps smiling. He lifts a brow, turning to rake his nails down his jaw as he strolls over next to me. He grips the edge of the banister and looks down at the gala crowd.
