Good. With any luck, she’d be within earshot.
“I’ll consider it, if you agree to support Sydney and your daughter, at least financially.” Cillian stayed at full volume as he pinned Massey with a stare.
“I already told you,” Massey flipped his focus between Cillian and Victoria, “I don’t know anything about this pregnant girl, and I have nothing to do with it.”
It. Revealing use of language to detach himself from the situation.
“And I told you, we know you have everything to do with this unwed teen mom and her child. Are you seriously going to reject your own daughter? You know Sydney’s pregnant with a girl, right?”
Massey glared at him, dropping any effort to appear friendly or calm. “I don’t know who you are, but you had better think very seriously about what you’re accusing me of. I have the best attorneys money can buy, and I will destroy you.”
Cillian stepped closer to the player. Looked down at him. “I’m shaking in my boots.”
Massey met his glare, then pulled back, aiming his anger at Victoria. “I can’t believe you would be involved in something like this. Trying to smear my name, a friend of your father’s, with malicious lies. He’s going to hear about this.”
She paled a shade but didn’t flinch. “Mr. Massey, I would never attack you or try to ruin your reputation with lies. We’re only asking you to do the right thing. I’ve been helping Sydney and your unborn child. They’re staying at my house right now because her mother evicted her. She and your daughter would be homeless and in danger if not for the kindness of others. Doesn’t that concern you?”
“What concerns me,” Massey’s voice quivered with the fury his eyes shot at Victoria, “is that a Weston would come into my home and accuse me of something so heinous and untrue. What have I ever done to you or your father that you would try to destroy my marriage and my life?”
“Mr. Massey, that’s not?—”
“But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” Massey’s stance widened, as if he was setting up an attack. A verbal one? “After all, you are suspected of murder.”
She closed her mouth, surprise and dismay tightening her features.
“I assumed you were innocent, since you’re a Weston. But now, I can see why the police would think you have the capacity for cruelty.”
“That’s enough.” Cillian stepped between the jerk and Victoria. “This isn’t about her, it’s about you. And you don’t have a moral leg to stand on. You manipulated an innocent teen girl by conning her into believing you loved her, just for your own pleasure. So you could use her and throw her away. Her and your own daughter.” Cillian moved closer to the loser, shooting daggers at him with his eyes. “Only the worst excuse for a human being would stoop that low.”
Massey looked up at Cillian, fear flickering in his eyes as his features clustered like he was trying to hold his position. But he caved again, backing farther away this time. “Get out.” He pointed toward the door. “Both of you, get out of my house right now, or I’m calling the police.” He jerked his gaze to Victoria. “And we all know you don’t want that.”
“Actually, Victoria has been cleared of all suspicion now that we captured the real murderer.” Cillian gave the jerk a satisfied grin.
“Cillian, let’s go.” The tug on his arm drew his attention to Victoria.
“Not until this guy is ready to man up.”
“No, now.” She switched to pushing, shoving Cillian’s arm to try to move him toward the door. “We’re sorry to have bothered you.” She threw the polite apology over her shoulder to the heartless player.
Anger surged through Cillian. Was she really going to placate a worm like Massey?
“You’d better not tell anyone about this.” Massey delivered the statement as a threat.
Cillian swung around Victoria, facing the jerk. “Oh, I plan to tell everyone. Starting with your country club, your board members, and anyone else I can think of. Maybe a few news outlets.”
“Get out!” Massey’s screech echoed in the foyer.
Cillian grinned. “Bet your wife heard that.”
“Cillian, we’ve done enough. Please.” Victoria grabbed his hand this time. If she’d done that the first time, he might’ve gone along with her.
He let her tug him out the door as he returned the grip. Her hand felt so at home in his, so slim and perfect.
Until she let go and yanked her hand out of his. She marched ahead through the snowflakes that must’ve started while they’d been inside.
He quickly caught up as she hurried to her car, parked in the Masseys’ driveway. “That went great.”
She stopped so quickly, Cillian almost smashed into her. She stared at him. “What?”
