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“Even if you could prove it,” Shepherd says, “and I’m not saying you can, but if youcould, that would be interesting, wouldn’t it? I’m awfully certain I could prove criminal blackmail if this winds up in court.”
Adriana has a smug smile on her face. “How interesting. So you wanna see who has the fastest lawyers in the old west? Game on!”
“No game, Miss Cerva. Just very serious questions about how you obtained those photographs, and what your business was spying on private citizens in protected wilderness with proprietary technology.” He pauses to let his words sink in.
I see the moment they sink in, and she actually has a flicker of fear.
“Criminalquestions,” Shepherd says slowly.
Her smile vanishes.
Her garishly manicured nails press the table, almost hard enough to break, scratching the tablecloth.
Shepherd turns to Meghan this time.
“Think real hard before you follow her lead,” he bites off. “If you two have any sense of self-preservation, you’ll pretend we never spoke today. You’ll be smart. Shut up, get out, and never breathe another word to me or Destiny again.”
I think Adriana might have been struck mute.
Her breathing turns loud, rattling as she stares up into Shepherd’s face.
Even Meghan looks up, her eyes wide and uncertain, almost bugging out of her head as she looks between us painfully.
“Miss Lancaster, let’s go.” Shepherd stands and pivots.
With his arm in mine, he steers us out of the restaurant, leaving them gawking behind us.
Even with my back turned, I can feel Adriana’s glower, and when I glance back—a big mistake—she fixes me with a look I recognize.
I’ve seen that look before once, on a family friend I loved like an adopted uncle who wound up doing the unspeakable to my father and Eliza.
It chills me to the bone.
This so isn’t over.
This is a crazy narcissist who’s just had her pride shredded, and I know she’d rather die than let it go.
17
A Little Betrayal (Shepherd)
Rain splatters the windows of the car as Destiny stares blindly at the glass divider.
I tell the driver, Carl, to just drive us around while we think.
Doesn’t matter where. We just need to get the hell away from that shit show in the restaurant.
“Hey.” I touch her hand. It’s ice-cold and she jerks back, almost like she’s forgotten I’m here, her eyes shiny and blank. “We will fix this, Dess. I promise.”
“What does fixing it even look like?” she whispers.
“We’re going to take Adriana Cerva for everything she has.” I pull her into my arms, and she rests her forehead against the crook of my shoulder.
Her heavy breath goes right through me as she exhales.
Fuck.
It’s an effort to stay calm, but for her, I manage.
