“Why the fuck would I do that?” I turned back. “Dante never did shit to me. And you want me to ruin him to save your career? Nah. I’m good.”
She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a folder. Thin. The kind of thin that meant bad news.
“This is why.”
She opened it slowly, like she was revealing a royal flush. Police reports. Crime scene photos—the kind with body outlines and blood spatter. Witness statements typed on official letterhead.
My stomach dropped.
“Rashid murdered the former district attorney, William Graves,” Vivica said, her voice calm, measured. Like she was discussing the weather. “It was retaliation for his sentence. I have a witness willing to testify. Physical evidence linking him to the scene. DNA. Fingerprints. The whole package.” She closed the folder with a soft thud. “If I hand this over to the current DA, Rashid goes back to prison. Life sentence. No parole. No appeals. No second chances.”
My hands curled into fists. My chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped steel bands around my ribs.
“You are so fucking petty.”
“I’m giving you a choice,” she said simply. “Help me bury Dante, and Rashid stays free. Walk out that door, and he’s back in a cell by the end of the week. Forever.”
I wanted to flip her desk. Wanted to put my hands around her throat and squeeze until that smug expression disappeared. But I forced myself to stay still. To breathe through the rage.
“No killing,” she added quickly, reading the violence in my eyes. “No physical harm. Just information. Just exposure. That’s all I’m asking.”
“That’s all?” I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You want me to destroy an innocent man so you can keep playing mayor while you fuck your assistant behind closed doors. That’s what you’re asking.”
“Yes.”
I stood there for a long moment, weighing my options. Walk away and Rashid—the man who saved my life, who gave me purpose when I had none—goes to prison forever. Or sell my soul a little bit more and save him.
It wasn’t really a choice at all.
“Fine.” The word tasted like ash in my mouth. “I’ll get your information. But after this, you leave me the fuck alone. You don’t call me. You don’t text me. You don’t manipulate me. You don’t use Rashid or anyone I care about as leverage ever again. We’re done. Completely.”
“Agreed.”
I started toward the door, then stopped. Turned back.
“You know what’s funny?” I said. “You’re sitting here asking me for help. Blackmailing me into doing your dirty work. After everything you did to me.”
“Prentice—”
“You called me stupid my entire childhood,” I continued, my voice low and steady. “Fat. Worthless. A disappointment. You made fun of my stutter in front of your friends at that campaign dinner when I was ten years old. Remember that? I tried to give a toast—tried to make you proud—and I couldn’t get the words out. And you laughed. You actually laughed at me. Your own son, struggling and embarrassed, and you thought it was funny.”
Her face went slack, color draining.
“You never got me speech therapy,” I went on. “Never took me to a doctor. Never even asked if I was okay or if I needed help. You just decided I was an embarrassment and you sent me away. Shipped me off so you wouldn’t have to deal with me. So I wouldn’t ruin your image.”
“I didn’t?—”
“You didn’t what?” I stepped closer. “Didn’t mean to fuck me up? Didn’t realize that treating your kid like he was worthless would have consequences? You made me feel like I wasn’t enough my entire life. Like I’d never be enough. And now you want my help?”
“Prentice, I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” I shook my head. “You’re sorry you got caught with your face in your assistant’s pussy. You’re sorry your marriage is falling apart and you need someone to clean up your mess. But you’re not sorry for what you did to me. To Quest. To Justice. You’re not capable of that kind of remorse.”
I walked out before she could respond, before she could spin more lies or make more empty promises.
The cool air hit my face as I stepped outside, and I sucked in a deep breath, trying to clear the poison of that house from my lungs.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
