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“I’ve been a New Yorker my whole life,” O’Connor said. “And never before have I seen crime the way it’s been in the last few years.”
I snorted. “Ironic,” I commented. Though the O’Connor’s hadn’t been pursued by my father, they were too low level for him, they were just as dirty and corrupt as the Blanchis and the Petrovs.
“This city has been plagued by organized crime for years, and no one has done anything about it. My own brother…” He trailed off, as though he were overcome with emotion, and I felt my stomach churn.
“He’s convincing,” Annie muttered.
Marcel shrugged. “He’s not wrong. His youngest brother was killed about 6 months ago – allegedly.”
Annie raised a brow. “Allegedly?” she asked.
“No one ever found the body.”
I ignored the conversation between Marcel and Annie. They were talking more about Liam O’Connor, Patty’s brother. But my focus was on Patty. He was doing a good job, and it was pissing me off. I could feel myself starting to get irritated. I hadn’t considered him a threat. He was older and uncharismatic. But watching him, I could see the emotional appeal.
“Shit,” I muttered watching the reporters go rabid for O’Connor.
Marcel ran a hand over his face. “He’s good,” he said. “I’ll give him that.”
Annie looked back and forth between the two of us. Her cheeks were still flushed from the two of us fooling around, and I wanted nothing more than to go back to what we’d been doing.
“What it is? What’s wrong?”
Marcel looked at me sternly. When we met the evening before, so that I could tell him about my current lack of funding, he’d been adamant that I needed to talk to Annie. He wanted me to come clean with her. Well, that was only after he realized that I wouldn’t be dissolving our relationship.
At this point, if I continued funding my campaign, it would take every bit of the money I had. I’d have to put my penthouse up for sale, which was something I wasn’t necessarily interested in doing.
“The polls are showing that O’Connor’s emotion appeals are working,” Marcel interjected. “He’s been all around the city talking about how he plans to be tough on crime and drumming up sympathy about his dead brother. People love a good underdog.”
“He’s hardly an underdog!” Annie exclaimed. The blush on her cheeks deepened until they were nearly as red as the nail polish she wore. She’d gone from flushed with pleasure to red with anger. Despite the situation, I chuckled. Annie always wore her emotions on her face.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “He’s taken control of the narrative, and it’s the only thing that people care about.”
“People can’t be that stupid.”
This time Marcel snorted in derision.
“Did you come here to deliver some good news?” I asked, feeling my hackles raising. I reached down and grabbed the remote from where Marcel had discarded it and shut off the television.
“I came to tell you that Rome still hasn’t backed a candidate.”
Annie stiffened beside me, and I wondered why. She’d gone after Rome like a Pitbull, so much so that she’d felt guilty about her actions and convinced me to meet with his son.
“So?”
“So, we might be able to convince him to kick funds towards your campaign. The man is loaded, but he’s also connected. He knows several major donors who would be willing to contribute.”
I sighed. I had wanted to run a campaign that was backed by my own money. I wasn’t interested in being beholden to other’s interests. And I still wasn’t interested. “Rome is never going to give me the money. Not without strings.”
“No one is going to give you money without wanting something in return.”
It had been the reason that I didn’t want to be funded by anyone else.
“You could always try and fundraise,” Annie said. “Isn’t that what most politicians do? Grassroots?”
Marcel looked like his head was going to explode, so I jumped in to stop him before he exploded all over Annie. “We would have needed to fundraise months ago.”
“Plus, most people fundraise from major donors, like Rome.”
