I take it briefly and let go. If she wants distance, I can give her miles.
The awkwardness stretches like gum between us, sticky and unbreakable.
“How do you know our daughter?” the Chief asks then, cutting straight through the bullshit. He looks at Dallen when he speaks, but the question is aimed at me. A cross-examination.
My heart gives one hard thud. That’s the thing about men like him, they don’t waste time.
Dallen beats me to it. “We…met on a night out,” she says quickly, that bright fake smile plastered on again. She doesn’t look at me, and that hurts more than I want to admit.“Remember when I told you I got a ride home. It is Mr. Moretti who was kind enough to give me one. Our meeting is totally by chance.”
It is by chance, but I saw her in the club and moved to the bar to be near her, to see if she was there with anyone. But the benign, cold way in which she terms our first meeting, well, that won’t do at all. I’ll be reminding her later that I did a lot more than just give her a ride home. She rode me, if memory serves me right.
The Chief turns his full attention on me, weighing every inch, every line of my expensive suit. “Moretti Global,” he repeats slowly. “Quite the operation.”
“We try,” I say. “Shipping, construction, and real estate. A few other ventures. You’ve got a couple of our developments on your beat, I imagine. The community center on Forty-Second, the youth complex in Queens?—”
“Funded by blood money,” Mrs. Byrne murmurs under her breath. It’s barely audible, but I catch it. Of course I do.
Heat flashes under my skin, hot and savage. I keep my smile, but it tightens at the edges. A part of me wants to lean in and ask her if she prefers her daughter fucking a broke accountant instead. Another part wants to walk away before I say something that will have Lucien dragging me off the front page of tomorrow’s papers.
Instead, I let the anger settle, cold and heavy. I’m used to this. To be the villain in every room I walk into.
But this is different. Because they don’t just hate a name. They hate me. And she’s standing there, my girl who kissed me like I am the only man she’s ever wanted, letting them.
Fine.
If they want a villain, I can oblige.
“You’re welcome to come see the books anytime, Mrs. Byrne,” I say, voice silky. “We’ve been audited more than mostFortune 500 companies. Everything above board. That’s the beauty of going legitimate. People can dig all they like and find nothing but tax returns and building permits.”
The Chief studies me with that cop stare that feels like an internal examination. “Some stains don’t wash off, Mr. Moretti. No matter how many buildings you put your name on.”
My jaw ticks. “Some stains built this city,” I shoot back softly. “At least we’re using ours to give something back, not merely pretending to help at yearly held charities.”
There’s a tiny, almost invisible wince from Dallen. She finally looks at me, properly, and the sheen of confusion and hurt in her eyes slices straight through my armor.
You could have told me, I want to say.About your father. About who you are. You could have given me a chance to tell you who I am, too.
Instead, I tip my head slightly, eyes never leaving the Chief’s. “We’re glad you’re here tonight,” I say. “Your presence means something to the donors, to the press, and to the kids these programs help. Optics matter, don’t they?”
He knows what I’m doing. We both do. If he walks out now, he looks petty. Political. Like a man with a personal vendetta instead of a public servant. And he can’t afford that.
So he gives me a smile with no warmth. “I’m here for the cause,” he says. “Not the company.”
“Of course.” I let the lie sit there. “I hope you enjoy the evening.”
The mother gives a brittle laugh. “We’ll do our best.”
Lucien’s voice booms from across the room as he calls everyone to take their seats, the lights dimming a fraction. The usual shuffle and murmur follow as people start drifting toward their tables.
“You’re at my table,” I tell them, because if I’m going to be judged, I want front-row seats. “What a jolly night this willbe.” Sarcasm laces my words. I hold Dallen’s gaze for one last heartbeat. There’s so much I want to say in that look.Don’t let them decide who I am for you. Don’t run. Don’t you dare pretend what happened between us was nothing.
She looks away first.
The cold, hard thing inside me snaps into place.All right, sweetheart. If this is how your family wants to play it, I can play.
They think I’m not good enough? They think a Moretti is something you scrape off your shoe? Fine. I’ll show them exactly what happens when you look down on a man who’s spent his whole life crawling out of the gutter they shoved him in.
I turn away, walking back toward our table, my stride easy, unhurried. People nod, smile, call my name, and I let the charm slide back into place like a well-tailored coat.
