Jon David’s smile shifts into something sly—the manipulator, right on cue, as if temptation can make you forget the poison underneath. “We had an exciting sex life, Laurette. You can’t deny that. It could be again if you’d open your mind a little.”
I laugh again, sharper this time. “My sex life is more exciting than you could imagine, more than you could ever comprehend.”
His jaw tightens, but I don’t stop.
“I know you’re wondering, and the answer is yes. He has a magnificent cock, and he knows exactly how to use it.”
I lean forward, voice a whisper meant to slice. “And I’ll never share him with you. So don’t ask.”
He blinks once, his expression scrambling into something defensive.
“I’mnotgay,” he says, his voice quick, almost wounded. “And I wish you’d stop acting like I am.”
“Gay… bi… that’s your business. It’s no longer a concern of mine. But if you’re still trying to convince me you’re straight, you’ll need to be a much better liar.”
His eyes narrow. “Have you ever once considered that he might have drugged us both? Perhaps neither of us was aware of what was happening.”
I consider it for a heartbeat and dismiss the thought. That’s textbook Jon David right there, trying to sow confusion, trying to make me second-guess myself. He’s blowing smoke. I’m familiar with his tactics and see through them.
“Sorry. Not buying it,JD.”
His tone sharpens. “I came here on business, not to discuss your latest fuck.”
“I’m not the one who brought it up. What’s your business?”
His posture changes, clipped and formal. “Julian’s death changes everything.”
“Julian’s death changes nothing. Evan still stands trial.”
His jaw flexes. I catch the flicker in his brow, quick but not quick enough. Cracks always show when you recognize where to look.
“You’re going to push forward while his family’s still mourning? You’re going to haul them into court days after they buried their beloved patriarch? That’s not justice, Laurette. That’s cruelty.”
I let the accusation hang, untouched for a moment.
“You’re callingmecruel?”
His smile fades, but I don’t let him find his footing.
“Cruel… because I won’t let a rapist walk?”
He exhales, frustrated. “He’s not a rapist.”
“Oh, but he is. And I’m not in the habit of shielding entitled predators, no matter how suddenly fatherless they become.”
“Evan’s a kid?—”
“No. Evan is a grown man who drugged and assaulted a woman. And Julian’s death doesn’t wash the blood off his hands. There’s no grieving clause in the law. He doesn’t get a pass.”
Jon David leans forward, tension winding tighter. “His father died. The family is completely shattered.”
“And what about her? What about the victim’s family who had towatch her fall apart in a hospital bed while he skated home to his estate?”
Silence stretches across the desk, dense and electric.
Jon David scans my expression and leans back in his chair. He offers a slow, deliberate smirk, a charming facade masking his intent to wound.
“Keep telling yourself you’re the hero here. But from where I’m sitting, you look like a vindictive bitch.”
