Page 58 of Fearless: Encore


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I giggle into his damp hair. “Magic sex bed.”

I turn in his arms so I’m the little spoon. Gaze out the floor-to-ceiling windows in our bedroom. Lake Washington is calm. The morning sun is beginning to permeate the sky, leaving little pink streaks.

Morning sex in our dream house is my favorite pastime.

We moved in a week after returning from Ireland. Bought all the furniture except for the bedrooms. Our adjustable king-size cooling Tempur-Pedic bed is, quite literally, the most amazing piece of furniture I’ve ever owned. It was delivered five days ago. We’ve spent a fair amount of time christening it.

The unusual angles it allows…well, if our sex was incredible before…

“What time is our appointment?” Connor’s voice is sleepy.

Considering all we’ve been dealing with, Connor and I decided to dedicate ourselves to a more intensive couple’s counseling program with Lisa Kinkaid. He and I both see her separately as well. “Not until later this morning. Our flight’s tonight at five.”

“Okay. I’ll catch a wee nap,” he mumbles before emitting a slight snort. Soon, he’s sound asleep.

When his hold on me slackens, I slip out of bed. Put on a robe. Linger in the doorway to enjoy the view of Connor’s naked body at rest. My gentle yet fierce giant. The man who’d never hurt a hair on my body. My man who protects his family with everything he has.

I try not to think about how I almost lost him. It’s too painful.

The past three weeks have been an absolute whirlwind. If all goes to plan tomorrow, I’ll put an end to the madness. Once and for all.

I’m willing to sacrifice myself this time. For the greater good. To stop hiding and pretending I came out ofHawaiian Highunscathed.

I’ve been living with trauma. Reacting accordingly. My survival instinct has been on high alert for too long, even if I wasn’t conscious of it. I’ve hurt Connor. Hurt Kris. Hurt myself. It’s time for a change.

Through hours of therapy, Connor and I came up with a plan.

Together.

I’m taking my shot.

This time, I’m not going to miss.

Ronni can’t sit still.Her knee is bouncing. She fidgets with her water glass. Clasping it. Letting it go. Tracing little patterns in the condensation. I know she’s nervous. Today’s a big day.

If all goes well, it will be the official start of our new life. Well, a reimagining of our old life is a better description. I slide my hand across the table and encircle her wrist. Work my fingers up to clasp her hand. I bring it to my mouth for a kiss, then keep our clasped hands safe against my thigh.

“I’m a bit tense.” She squeezes my leg.

I chuckle. “Aye, you could say that.”

“I felt bold and empowered yesterday, why does it feel like ants are crawling all over my body now?” She shivers a bit.

“Well, love. That’s quite a visual.” I lean over and touch my forehead to hers. “There are no ants, my love. You’ve got this.”

The door opens to the glass-enclosed conference room we’re sitting in. Five attorneys of various ages, sexes, sizes, and shapes, all in either blue or gray suits, settle in across the table. They introduce themselves to me. A couple even look a bit starstruck.

To me, they’re essentially insignificant. If they do their jobs correctly, my wife should have this Kircher mess behind her. Hopefully with a fat deposit into her bank account to boot.

Once the lawyers are settled, the eldest of the blue-gray suit crew addresses Ronni. “As I mentioned on the phone, Ms. Miller—”

“It’s Mrs. McGloughlin,” Ronni interrupts to correct him.

The suits exchange glances. The guy coughs. “My mistake. Mrs. McGloughlin, as I mentioned on the phone, we’re nearly at the discovery phase. We believe if we can get Kircher to sit for two or three days during his deposition, we’ll be able to crack him.”

“I’m not interested in proceeding to that phase. As you are fully aware, we have proof the sex videos of Connor with our former nanny are deepfakes. You have a forensic report showing the software program and precisely how and when the videos were made. We’ve traced the account’s origin to Caspar Kircher, Don’s son.” Ronni’s voice is forceful. Authoritative. My chest swells with pride.

“That’s not going to be sufficient to shut this down.” He looks exasperated. Like Ronni’s annoying him to no end.

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