“Alright, then. Let’s go over it quickly. I have an appointment in an hour.”
Having been around Victor long enough to know when he set a time limit, he stuck to it, his campaign staff dove right in. In that hour, they covered as much as they could about the trajectory of his campaign. He listened as best he could, but his head wasn’t in the game. Besides, they were talking dates, campaign trails, photo ops, debate preps. It was all scheduling; shit they needed to be discussing with Kena. And like clockwork, not one minute after the hour was up, Kena walked in the conference room carrying his briefcase and jacket.
“You got this,” he told his campaign staff as he stood and abandoned the table.
Kena handed him his jacket. He slipped it on as they left the conference room.
“Taylor?” he asked, reaching for his briefcase.
“Taylor didn’t feel much like going out. I arranged for Dr. Porter to see her at the penthouse.”
“Good.”
Dr. Jonathon Porter was a well-renowned psychologist that his mother had recommended. Victor had never put much stock into therapy, but the woman he was sleeping with every night was a broken replica of his wife. Maybe she would get better in time, but he wasn’t one to waste that time hoping and wishing.
They were joined by Gregor as they bypassed his office on the way to the elevator. Victor glanced over his shoulder, noticing his security detail for the first time. They were so discreet at times Victor often forget they were present.
“Lucas called. He needs your signature on some paperwork. He’s sending them to the penthouse by messenger,” Kena informed as they stepped into the elevator.
Victor nodded. He’d take the time to review and sign whatever his brother sent over. He knew Lucas was working on the procurement of another cruise line for Brothers Creed, Incorporated. Since Victor began his career in politics, he’d been doing a brilliant job of running BCI on his own.
“Here we go,” Kena muttered when the elevator reached the lobby.
Gregor stepped in front and five others formed a protective perimeter around he and Kena. The barrier was created to shield him more so from the media than any physical danger. The story of his impending indictment brought out the sharks.
Gregor, along with the rest of his security detail, ushered them into a waiting SUV. The big man slid into the passenger seat next to Victor’s new driver, Naomi. She’d only been with his security detail for a few months, but she was a perfect fit. She was quiet, punctual, and a good driver, not at all afraid to use a little aggression when moving reporters and paparazzi from in front of the automobile.
It didn’t take long for them to reach Storm Tower. After pushing through the media, they entered the lobby. Victor felt the warmth of all the eyes on him as he walked to the elevator. When the doors slid open, he stepped inside, not giving one single fuck about any one of them. If the Attorney General was fool enough to come for him using false accusations, they were clearly underestimating his propensity for ruthlessness.
Victor entered the penthouse, anxious to see how Taylor’s therapy session had gone. Emma, the new housekeeper, hurried over to him and held her hand out for his briefcase.
“Thank you, Emma,” he told her as he handed her the briefcase.
She was polite, respectful, and fifty years old…the total opposite of the flirty housekeeper she’d replaced.
“Taylor?”
“She’s in the parlor with Dr. Porter.”
Victor began toward the parlor, but Emma placed her hand on his upper arm and stopped him.
“Just a second, Governor.”
He frowned at her worried expression. “What is it?”
“Well, sir, Mrs. Creed…well, she's in a mood, sir.”
“Okay?”
Her blue eyes were awash with apprehension. After a brief hesitation, she said, “She’s destroyed the parlor. And…I think she might have struck the doctor.”
“What?”Victor gasped.
He took off with long, determined strides to the parlor. When he opened the door and stepped inside, the first thing he saw was Taylor slumped down on the sofa looking pissed.
He hurried over and dropped to his knees in front of her. Even without makeup and with her thick, curly locks sprawled across the back of the leather, she was beautiful.
“Taylor, honey, what’s going on?” Victor kept his voice soft. She looked as if she could explode at any time. He had never seen her so angry.
