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I finally agree, whisking Isabella onto the dance floor, where we sway to the light music. She doesn’t like the attention it brings her, but I remain firm with her in my arms. She tips her head onto my shoulder, letting my hand on her hip slide over to cover her lower back.
“Sorry I snapped,” I whisper into her hair. “That remark he made about family set me off more than it should have.”
“I don’t like it when you’re upset,” she mutters under the sound of the music. “I just want us to be happy, Carter. No more fighting.”
I force her chin up in the middle of our casual stroll of a dance. “There’s no such thing as peace in this family. There never will be, either.”
She doesn’t act surprised, but she does look wounded.
I keep her in my arms as long as possible, holding her tighter while the time passes by us. Eventually, Tristan pulls me toward the stage. I make sure Isabella knows to stay put, leaving with a kiss while I make it to the microphone stand in front of the large, live band. Everyone claps, and I try to remain charming with a smile, but I’m far too pissed off for that right now.
The media is off to the side, snapping photos and trying to get their angle for the announcement. Tristan hands me his phone first, his eyes downcast as I take it into my palm. A headline reads in bold font across his screen.
Killian Hughes is the winner of the mayoral campaign in New York City.
I prepare my concession speech in my head while also trying to think of the damage this will do to the Blackthorne enterprise. Everything I’ve been avoiding for the last eight months is about to go down the drain for good.
Mr. Tough on Crime is moving into my domain, and I’m the epitome of a lawbreaker.
Chapter Four
Isabella
Carter begins his speech, and I can already tell it’s not good. He thanks everyone for their support and then breaks the news that he won’t be the mayor we all were hoping he would be. Instead, he thanks his opponent and wishes him the best of luck, the cameras snapping their photos while it’s clear that Carter Blackthorne has finally lost something.
He’s had everything in life he needed to be successful, so I know this isn’t a fair battle. Everyone was raving about Carter before when he took down Frances and exposed the ugly face of politics around here, but it’s over now. He’s not the mayor, and his days at work are probably going to decrease even more.
The cameras battle to get a glimpse of him walking off the stage. He doesn’t spot me in the crowd, instead giving in to talk to the media. I try to get to him, but someone else catches his attention, and he turns his back toward me before I can even get close.
I bail for now, stalking outside for some fresh air.
It’s not the night to be selfish, I know that, but part of me is a little happy he didn’t win the mayoral election. I have been afraid of the repercussions of his actions for a while. Even if he says that he can’t be charged with anything, he has already told the police just enough to pin Frances down. There’s no doubt that he’s safe from those actions.
So, what about the new ones? If he gets caught doing half the stuff he shares with me at home in his penthouse, then I fear what will happen when Killian takes over.
Taking a seat on the steps, I couldn’t care much less about the white of my dress getting dirty. I hug my knees to my stomach and exhale, wondering if it’s too late in the evening to visit my father. He would be happy to see me, even though his health has been in steady decline for weeks.
His mind is still wandering elsewhere, but his body has reached its final stop.
I think about him, about Sam, too, and wonder if either of them misses me right now.
A cold brush of fingertips pulls my hair aside. I glance back to see Carter behind me, his eyes glazed over with too many emotions to count. He ushers me to stand up, and I do, taking his hand while he whisks me away to the SUV on the street. I didn’t even notice Ernesto come outside before, but there he waits with the door open, waving us inside.
I only get one foot in before I realize that Carter is on the edge of the curb, staring at the mass of media flooding down the steps. They surround him at once, but something else catches his focus. He stares at the top of the stairs, a single reporter standing with her back straight and her eyes piercing through me. Carter doesn’t move for a minute, looking right back at the reporter.
A cryptic expression passes between them, one that I’m not sure if Carter recognizes, but it’s enough that he stops to exchange a passing glance with her at all. I shouldn’t be concerned. I know Carter has his demons, but he very rarely looks at them with such uncertainty as this one.
I want to ask him what he’s doing, but he pushes his way into the car, pinning me to his lap before he slams the door shut. His hand rips through the short slit of my dress, finding the toy that rests under my thin panties. He yanks it out in a single swipe, causing me to arch and writhe with shock, pleasure, and a bit of pain.
“Ouch, Carter!”
“Shh,” he snarls, hooking his arm around my stomach so I can’t move off his legs. “Be silent, dove.”
I retreat back into myself for now, watching the city pass by as we drive to the penthouse. Ernesto doesn’t speak, which is abnormal for him. We all just sit in stunned silence until the car pulls into the garage. I spy my little red sports car, the sight of it under the penthouse almost comforting.
The door swings open, and Carter hikes me over his shoulder, carrying me to the elevator. I thrash in his grip, unsure why he won’t just let me walk, but every push away leads to a harsh slap against my ass cheek. He doesn’t say anything or give me a playful warning.
We make it upstairs without a word said.
