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“That doesn’t prove that Juliet and I are defrauding our fiancé visa. We fell in love—I proposed—we got married. People do it every day.”
He doesn’t have anything. He can only accuse me of proposing to Amelia for the K-1 visa, but there’s no recorded evidence of Juliet and I making any deal.
“Mr. Haynes, we can do this one of two ways. The first option is that we take this to court, play the video message to the jury, along with this same concerned citizen testifying against you and Juliet’s relationship, and prove that Frank Bishop fast-tracked your application for his gambling addiction,” he says, slipping his phone back into the pocket of his button-up shirt. “If you’re found guilty, you will get deported and I’ll see to have your eligibility to reapply for a visa revoked for up to ten years. Juliet will be looking at up to five years of prison time, felony charges, and a possible fine of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
I swallow hard at the outlook for Juliet if we lost that court battle. The shame of not only putting Juliet in this predicament but also for being the one who gave my ex-girlfriend the ammunition to cause this kind of damage weighs heavy on my conscience.
I can’t let Juliet take the fall for this.
I need to fix this. And ideally without Juliet knowing the details about Amelia’s evidence against us and the fact that I took a deal from a guy with a gambling addiction. All of which is my fault and is sealing our fate.
“And option two?” I ask.
“Because Frank is under my jurisdiction, and my boss will demand a department-wide audit of all the employees who work under me if this abuse of power gets out, I want this to go away as quietly as possible. If my ass wasn’t on the line, I wouldn’t be offering this to you… do you understand? This is a sweetheart deal.”
I wish the guy would shut the fuck up and just tell me what the hell I have to do to get Juliet out of this mess.
At this point, I’ll do anything he asks. I won’t let my wife spend a day in prison for this.
“What do I have to do?” I ask, pinching my hand on my hips and glancing over my shoulder one more time. The girls have left the hall.
“I’ll give you until tomorrow by ten am to pack up and leave the country… quietly. You don’t tell a single soul why you’re leaving. No one can know about what happened, just in case it gets out.”
“And if I agree to this, you’ll leave Juliet alone?”
“If you do this, Juliet will not be charged, and I’ll allow you to reapply for the yearly visas you’ve been applying for to play sports here after two years.”
“The Hawkeyes will drop my contract before then,” I argue.
“That’s not my problem, Mr. Haynes.”
“I need to at least tell my GM that I’m getting deported. I have a four-year contract I have to get out of. I need a good reason.”
“Fine, your GM but that’s it, Mr. Haynes. And leave the fiancé visa out of this. Do we have a deal?” he asks.
He’s not giving me time to think about this but I don’t have a choice. Juliet can’t get in trouble for this and protecting her is more important than the Hawkeyes or my contract. A contract that I’ll violate for failing to meet my terms.
All this shit because someone didn’t mail in a goddamn check.
“Yes, we have a deal. I’ll be gone by ten am. You have my word.”
“Good. Enjoy your win tonight,” he says, before turning and leaving toward the illuminated exit sign.
Two years… I’m going to be deported for two years.
My phone vibrates with a text.
The only thing I care about now… will Juliet come with me?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ryker
I’ve been texting her for the last couple of hours to make sure she’s ok but it turns out that breaking down a project of that magnitude takes a lot of time.
But every minute that passes, and she isn’t home, is a minute I won’t get back and the anticipation of her answer to my question makes it hard to think about anything else
“I’m home.” Juliet’s voice comes through the door as I sit on the bed with an ice pack on my shoulder and knee.
