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We arrive at Jocelyn's downtown office with ten minutes to spare.
Roman looks great in the suit he borrowed from Bishop, even if it is a little tight on him. Actually, maybe that's why it looks so good, it makes his masculine frame stand out even more.
"You got this," he says as I glance up at the tall building.
"Thanks."
It's a cloudy day, and I just feel so cold on the inside. My marriage could be over today, and while there's no part of me that wants to stay with Bailey, it's the idea that something I thought would last forever is ending that's got me in a funk.
To worsen my mood, footsteps close in behind me and a voice I hope to not have to hear again for a long, long time after today, says, "Well, well, well. Look who we have here."
Roman and I turn around to see Bailey sneering at us both.
I close my eyes and sigh. "Can we just get this over and done with today? Please. I'm sure you want to go on with your life, and I'm ready to move on with mine."
"With him?" Bailey scoffs, eyeballing Roman.
"Yes, with him."
"You know he's a criminal. An actual criminal. I looked into it, and he's been twice convicted of—"
I cut him off. "I know."
Bailey's mouth hangs open, clearly not expecting me to say that.
He glares at Roman. "And you know that Locky's not as innocent as he looks, right? Did he tell you what we did in Florida?"
"Actually," I take a step forward as Roman growls next to me. "He does know. I've told him about it. Because that's what people who love each other do. They tell each other things. All the things. Even the hard and ugly and regretful things. Because you can't have a good relationship with secrets, Bailey. I hope that, if anything, that's one lesson you take away from this."
He shakes his head. "Whatever. You are still not getting that house. It's mine."
"Like hell it is," Roman grunts out.
"I don't speak to felons," Bailey retorts, and I instinctively reach for Roman, afraid he's going to smack that smug expression right off the douchebag's face and wipe away all his progress.
All the signs are there. Clenched jaw. Fists balled by his sides. Knuckles ghost white. Chest heaving. Death staring Bailey with a murderous intensity.
But I needn't have worried.
Because the man by my side is Roman 2.0. He doesn't let snakes like Bailey get under his skin and rattle him. Yes, he's pissed.Seething, more like it. But he's reining it in and keeping his rage in check.
"You're going to go in there"—Roman points to the building—"agree to the fair settlement that's on the table, and sign the divorce papers."
Bailey looks at Roman like he's lost his mind. "And why the fuck would I do any of that?"
"Because if you don't"—Roman's voice is eerily calm, sending a cold shiver up my spine—"I'll be handing over evidence to the feds about the side hustle you've got going on."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the thing you do where you sell breached credentials and direct access to brokers using the security clearance from your job."
"You're lyi—I mean. Bullshit. You don't know what you're talking about. You're just making shit up."
"Am I?" Roman's hands land on his hips, and he tips his head up at Bailey. "See, 'cause I've got proof, buddy boy. And last time I checked, stealing and selling security access carries a jail sentence of ten years. Looks like I won't be the sole felon in the group anymore." Roman ends with a smirk, like he knows he's got Bailey cornered.
Bailey backs away from us slowly, then pivots on his heel and marches into the building.
