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I turned around, observing her—really looking, not just skimming her features—for the first time.
Kristen was not a bad journalist, and under any other circumstances, I would respect her. But since it was me she was trying to fuck over, I had no choice but to fuck her harder, all puns intended.
“Do you have a point to your hearsay?”
“Rossi made you an orphan, so you took his daughter as retribution. An eye for an eye. I’d say it’s a pretty good lead.” She tipped her champagne glass back, taking a sip.
I smirked, assessing her coldly.
“I took Francesca Rossi as a bride because I liked her. True, I have no kind words to say about her father, but it won’t be him warming my bed at night.”
“She doesn’t even share your bed yet. How interesting.” Kristen slow-clapped at my restraint at putting up with such behavior.
Since she finally let go of my blazer, I turned around to complete my journey to the second floor just as Angelo slipped out of a guestroom, squeezing past my shoulder in the narrow hallway.
I took one sniff at him and knew that he had just had sex. His lips were swollen, and his hair was disheveled and damp with sweat.
Kristen’s eyes lit up at the look of him making his grand escape. Glee oozed from her big fat smile.
I grabbed his arm, turning him around to face me. This night was going down in the books as my worst night as a public figure and possibly as a human being.
Angelo stared at me, heaving.
Frantic. Breathless. Guilty.
“Leave before I ruin your life,” I spat out at Kristen. “And this time, you won’t get a third warning.”
She laughed. “Seems like you two have a lot to talk about.”
My former mistress scurried away, her laughter carrying in my ears long seconds after she was gone. I plastered Angelo to the wall, grabbing him by the collar.
I knew it looked bad.
I knew I had to explain it tomorrow morning.
I simply no longer cared.
“Who was with you in that room?” I demanded.
“I’d strongly advise you stop acting like a thug unless you’d like to be treated like one.”
I strongly advise you to stay away from my future wife before I really do kill you.
“You’ve had sex,” I countered.
“Thanks, Captain Obvious. I was there.” He laughed, regaining some of his composure, which infuriated me even more.
“Who with?” I pulled at his collar, almost to the point of choking.
That sure wiped the smile off his face. I knew I had to calm down before people started noticing the little scene I’d created.
But I couldn’t, for the life of me, gather my wits.
“See, my first answer to you. None. Of. Your. Business, Keaton.”
“Senator Keaton.”
“Nah. You sure as hell don’t represent me.”
