Page 135 of The Donor’s Dilemma

“You what?” He held up the newspaper, and Verity gasped.

Theo was across the room before he’d decided to move, taking the paper from the man’s hand and staring at the front page. Two photographs: one of him, he didn’t know when it had been taken, but he wasn’t smiling, and one of Verity, probably from before they met. Sweet. Perfect. Human.

He read the headline and his blood went cold.

“Disgraced Lord Mayor takes advantage of young donor in illegal relationship.”

He read on. Whoever had written it knew about the complaints to the Vital Exchange, though only the one Verity had supposedly made about him was mentioned. Quotes from people who he knew would never have given interviews. One from Harris, claiming Theo had allowed the city to slide into disrepute for decades. One from David at the support group, saying Verity had complained about Theo for months and that he was known for improper relations with donors.

The paper was snatched from his hands. He looked up to find Jesse holding it, face holding a blankness that few men saw twice.

“What is this?” Jesse said.

Brian Harper started to speak, but Verity took her father’s hands. “It isn’t true, I swear.” Brian cocked an eyebrow. “Well, the relationship bit might be true, but it isn’t what they’re saying.”

“Verity,” her dad said. “I think you should come home.”

“No. I’m not going home. I’m helping.”

“We told you not to join...” Her father trailed off, looking between them both. Theo realised how little he knew about her family’s feelings on the Exchange, on donation, on any of it. They told her not to?

Verity had been desperate when she applied, she’d told him as much. No one would give her a chance, until her application crossed Harris’s desk and he’d agreed to it. He’d set them on this path, and Theo found himself unbearably grateful for that. A journalist, known for digging where she shouldn’t, handed to a Lord Mayor who wasn’t digging enough. Maybe Harris thought he was creating a problem. Maybe he knew it was the only way to save them.

“Dad, I swear I’m okay here,” Verity said. “I’m safe. We’ve got the Ostara festival in a few days, and hopefully once that’s done things will settle.”

“Then why does this article say…”

“Because someone is trying to split us up,” Verity said simply. She looked at Theo, and he found himself speaking before he’d planned to.

“I understand your apprehension, Mr Harper,” he said. “But I swear I will do right by your daughter. I know this isn’t conventional. But I love her.” Verity turned to look at him, and the smile she gave him was softer than any he’d seen from her, real, not the fake one she’d offered her father. “This article isn’t true. I promise you that.”

Brian Harper shook his head slowly. “I don’t like this,” he said, looking at his daughter. “I don’t like any of this.”

“I know, Dad. I’m sorry. But I want to stay here. Theo and I, we’re good together. Whoever wrote this is trying to split us up and I won’t let them.”

Her father was quiet for a long moment. Then he looked at Theo with an expression that sat somewhere between a scowl and resignation.

“I won’t give you the whole ‘if you hurt my daughter’ speech,” he said. “Because let’s face it, there’s not much I could do about it.” He paused. “But please don’t.”

“By every god there is,” Theo said, “I swear I will take care of her.”

Brian nodded, once, heavily. “Well. Gods help whoever wrote that article. And gods help whoever tries to tell my daughter what to do.”

“It is a losing battle,” Theo agreed, and the man almost smiled.

Verity hugged her father tight. “Tell Mum I’m okay.”

“Your mother’s going to kill me,” he muttered into her hair. He kissed her head and straightened up, giving Theo one last look, not quite warm, not quite cold, before heading for the door.

“We should have a family dinner,” he said, his hand on the door. “Once all this has calmed down.”

For the second time in ten minutes, Theo found himself lost for words. A warm hand slid into his, and he remembered himself enough to nod.

“I’d like that very much,” he said.

Brian looked at their joined hands, sighed, and left.

“What the fuck,” Verity said, the moment the door closed, marching back into the lounge and snatching the paper. “How did they even get these photos? Why would...?”