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I’m still waiting for her to ask me if every car in my garage now has a child’s booster seat in the back. I wonder how long it will take for her to notice. Because the answer is yes.
We pull into the driveway, but instead of driving straight into the garage, I circle around the front drive where Gloria and Pavel are waiting for us. Gloria quickly unbuckles Willow and helps Clara carry her—and the unicorn—to her room.
Pavel nods to me and then signals to a guard to take my keys when I join him.
“You definitely broke his nose,” is the first piece of news Pavel gives me as we walk through the main entrance.
“He’s lucky that’s all I broke.”
“Andyou’relucky you didn’t get arrested. Or shot.”
I cock a brow at him. “Are you criticizing me?”
Pavel scoffs. “Hell no. Shit, I’d have done the same thing. But it’s not exactly the best image to give Rick right after I reminded him what an upstanding citizen you are.”
I want to roll my eyes, but he has a point. I’m just not going to acknowledge it. “What’s Bambi say?”
“All of Cartwell’s current and recent warrants are being combed through under a microscope and then some. Judgments he presided over are also under examination, including the appeals overturn with Tolya. It’s going to take time, though.”
“Figures.” I should feel grateful, not irritated. We’re making leaps and bounds in the right direction after so many years of hitting dead ends. But right now, nothing is sitting right withme. “Have the flight plan adjusted for tomorrow. We’ll leave by noon.”
“‘We’?” Pavel arches a brow and gives no effort to hide the small smirk.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Just get it done, man.”
He leaves with a quick nod and I head to my rooms. I need to finish packing and I need to make sure everything is in place for when I arrive on the island. Now that we’ve started showing our hand, I can’t afford to miss any minor details—or people.
Judge Cartwell was a card I’ve been holding for a while but, to be honest, I’ve been hesitant to play it. It didn’t take long for his high-rolling habits to reveal a penchant for a particular type of escort. I made sure I had them in plentiful supply.
Between the cameras in the comped suites, their mics, and the texts between Cartwell and the escorts’ burner phones, we had what we needed in a week.
The fact that Cartwell grew addicted was just a pleasant bonus.
The way he soothed his addiction? Less pleasant.
I ended up letting his favorite escort go after paying for her medical bills, a hefty severance package, and bonuses for every night she spent with Cartwell. Not because she did a bad job—on the contrary, she was spectacular. One of my best.
But Judge Cartwell is sick. He’s a sick motherfucker who gets off by inflicting pain and fear and treating his women like slaves. He was careful not to hurt her face or do anything permanent, but he went too far. More than once.
So once we realized we had the motherfucker over a barrel… we went to work.
I don’t know what this will mean for Tolya’s case. It is possible that the appeals decision will still hold, that we’re still back at square one.
It’s too early to call it a victory just yet.
But it does feel good to rid the world of one more bloodsucking, woman-abusing leech.
I zip up my suitcase and set it by the door. All I need to do is get a good night’s sleep and wake up early enough to grab some coffee, triple-check security, and make the drive to the airport hangar.
Sleep, though… that’s not gonna come easy. Every time I close my eyes, I see Clara’s terrified face. I hear her voice in my ear telling me that Willow’s gone.
And despite what I tell myself, I can’t shake the feeling that no matter how many guards I put up or how many times I run security checks, someone is going to pull some shit and steal my kid while I’m gone.
I frown. She’s not—fucking hell, Willow’snotmy kid.
And so follows two hours of tossing and turning in my bed, chanting to myself that Willow isnotmy daughter and Clara isnotmy wife.
These are facts.
