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I couldn’t help but laugh, because it was genius and very possible, so I read what was before me: “In 2013, the National Football League settled class action Concussion Litigations, which over the next 65 years, will cost the NFL $900 million, if not more. In so doing, the National Football League publicly brought attention to the detrimental impact that repeated blows had to the human brain and overall behavioral problems. And yet, since 2013, there has been no accountability for the second victims, the wives, many of whom were on the receiving end of their spouse's outbursts. Not only did the NFL fail in providing a guide to these women to care for their spouses, but repeatedly, they swept cases of domestic abuse under the rug. Other cases such as Mrs. Patricia Davey, who was beaten and dragged into a hotel room by her husband, Mitchell Davey, starting running back for the New England Patriots, was met with little to no attention by the mangers, head coaches, and other officials within the league. Mitchell Davey, who already has had two serious concussions, was suspended for only three games. First, he was told to work out his issues with his wife, with no guide to do so. Second, his wife was forced to deal with a hazardous situation, which she was not equipped to handle. Third, no further guidance or care was provided after said three-day suspension, despite being aware of the issues within their organization, the National Football League did and continues to do nothing.”
When I looked up back at him, he was sinking into his seat, taking a deep breath. “We’re going to have up security.”
“Up security or ‘round of the clock security,” I muttered, putting the file on the desk. “Do you remember the last time lawyers tried to sue America’s #1 sport? And that’s when it was coming from former players.” The backlash was swift and deep. Suing the NFL, for most people, was akin to suing football, and I knew people who loved football more than their own children.
“Your wife…” He shook his head. “You really didn’t know?”
“No. And if she can hide this, I’m kinda terrified,” I admitted. We’d just gotten married yesterday at The Ritz-Carlton, even though I couldn’t remember anything other than her and our son. Not the décor, or the flowers my mother spent a fortune on, nor the beautiful view behind us. It was as if we were already married and just renewing vows, my attention was only on her.
PAST
LEVI
“She could still run.” Tristan, the asshole, muttered behind me.
“I doubt it.” Rolling my eyes, I glanced at Ulric, who tried to fit his fist into his mouth as my mother held him in her lap. She fixed the red bowtie around his neck and pointed to me. He looked up at me and laughed, reaching out for me.
“Levi.”
“He’s part of the wedding, too,” I said, lifting him up and walking back on to the altar.
Tristan shook his head at me, but took a step back, making room for both of us. No sooner had I gotten back into place, the doors opened, and Vivian, walked out first in a silk red gown, holding on to white roses. Behind her was my sister, her eyes only on Tristan. Bellamy came out in her pink dress, tossing rose petals, and concentrating very hard at it, too. Tristan smiled, and pulled out his phone, taking more than a dozen photos at least.
Finally, she walked out, linking arms with her father on her right and her sister on her left. The star, my star, walked out gracefully, the long, white silk dress she wore was simple, not distracting anyone from the real beauty that was her. She held pink and red roses in her hands, laughing when she saw both Ulric and I waiting at the end for her.
“Slick move.” Selene pouted, poking Ulric’s cheek before moving.
“I had a threat a prepared for you, but seeing you hold my grandson made me forget it.” Ben frowned at me, but put his hand on my shoulder, and stepped over for Thea to stand in front of me.
“Holding our son hostage?” Thea grinned, reaching out to cup his face.
“He reached out for me.” I shifted over to one side. “Apparently, he also wanted to watch the most beautiful in the woman walk toward him.”
She shook her head and laughed, reaching out to take my hand. “Always the smooth operator, Mr. Black.”
I winked at her. “You haven’t seen anything yet, Mrs. Black.”
PRESENT
LEVI
“Earth to Levi!” Tristan snapped at me.
Glaring at him for cutting off my daydream, I hollered, “What?”
He nodded to the folder in front of me. “You know this will snowball; she can’t take this case alone … the whole firm is going to have to work it.”
“Let her have the victory today. We’ll talk—”
“We’ll or you.”
“I go alone, and she might pull a fast one on me, and next thing we know, we’ll be Black-Knox-Black.”
“And here I thought you always win—”
“How often do you win against Bethan?”
He groaned, rubbing his temple. “Why did you marry our associate again?”
