Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
SALVATORE
Fucking Mikklesons. It’s them. I know it. They’re probably hoping that if they scare me and Camilla enough, she’ll pull out of testifying.
But that’s never going to happen.
On the outside, Camilla comes across as a well-to-do housewife that couldn’t fend for herself if her life depended on it. That’s what she likes people to believe. It makes her feel special. As though she’s above everyone because she has others to take care of her.
But if someone messes with her kids, she can do more than just fend for herself. Her claws come out and she’s taking them down, even if she goes down along with them.
If they think that attacking my business is going to make me put my foot down and demand she retreats, they’re sorely mistaken. For one, she wouldn’t listen to me. And two, I’m looking forward to the day those fuckers are sentenced to prison. I only wish it was the wives as well as the husbands.
If it was Paige that was testifying, though, it would be a completely different story.
Camilla and I brought this on ourselves. We’re the ones that orchestrated their arrest. It makes sense to throw it all our way. Paige had nothing to do with it. All she did was overhear a conversation that set the wheels in motion.
If it was up to me, I would have kept Paige in the dark about all of this until we knew it for sure.
The only thing I told her is that I have a security detail on her whenever she leaves the house, just in case the media come after her again now that the Mikklesons are back in the spotlight.
She didn’t need to know they were up to their old tricks, fucking with people’s lives in the hope of silencing them.
But of course, Camilla had to play the sympathy card, first with Marc, getting him to move back in with her temporarily—which I’m not entirely opposed to after hearing he was high at Paige’s rehearsal. And maybe the wedding. Then she had to include Paige.
She told Paige about the fire, the stalking, everything. She clearly has no idea her daughter is as strong-willed as she is, because if anything, that’s likely to propel Paige into taking action and offering to testify herself.
Daniel knocks on my office door, his expression weary as I glance up to meet his eyes through the glass. And it’s my fault. He doesn’t need this right now. None of them do.
“Come in,” I call out, waving him in at the same time. “How did it go?” He’s just finished a meeting with one of the clients on the Chamberland project, and I could hear the occasional swear word from across the hall. I should have been there, but he insisted I stay away.
“I calmed them down, but we have to cover the costs of the delay and guarantee we’ll meet the revised deadline.”
“Okay. Good.”
“Not really. How can we guarantee that?”
“We can’t. But this is my fault, so if for some reason we’re delayed again, I’ll personally cover the costs to keep them happy.”
Daniel rakes a hand through his short, curly hair and sighs. “This isn’t on you.”
“Actually, it is.”
“No, it’s on the Mikkleson fuckers. My brother had invested with them. If it wasn’t for you and your family, he could have lost everything.”
His words pull me short as my shoulders drop. “I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, well. I didn’t want you to feel like a hero.
” His lips pull into a smirk, making me laugh.
Daniel’s been with D’Angelo Construction for as long as I have.
He started as a project manager and worked his way up to chief operating officer the year before I abandoned ship.
If I had time for friends, he would be one of them.
“You’re already far enough above me,” he adds, shaking his head with a laugh.
He’s joking around, but I can’t laugh along with him.
“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re a better man than I’ll ever be. That’s what matters most. Not money, or cars?—”
“Though you do have a few very nice cars.”
“I do, but that’s not the point.”
“I know. And thank you.”
“No, thank you. If I didn’t have you here, I wouldn’t be able to play ball on the other side of the country. I wouldn’t have left if I didn’t know my company was in good hands. This place is as much yours as it is mine.”
“Thanks, Sal. I love this company like it’s my own, so I appreciate the sentiment. What do we do now?”
“We keep putting out fires until those assholes are behind bars.”
Daniel comically cringes and I frown until he speaks. “That was probably the wrong choice of words.”
What is he… Oh. The fire. “Fuck, you’re right. This is a goddamn mess.” I huff out a chuckle and Daniel groans.
“How long until it’s over?”
“Who knows. Camilla has been called for day two of the trial. It starts in just under two weeks. Hopefully they leave us alone after that.”
“At least they’re not getting personal. It’s just property. It may hurt you financially, but it won’t kill you.”
“I almost wish you hadn’t said that.”
“I thought the same as soon as I finished. But you have nothing to worry about. If I know you, you already have security on Camilla and Paige.”
“Let’s not forget Marc.”
“I knew it! You probably had security on them before this all started.”
“I’m kidding. Camilla has security, but that’s her team. I have one guy on Paige and I’m lucky she let me. Marc would kill me if I tried. But he’s with Camilla at the moment anyway.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Have you upped your security?”
“I… ah…” I scratch the back of my neck, preferring not to say this out loud. “I don’t have security.”
“You don’t? You’re worth millions. Maybe you need something. Just in case.” My eyes drop to the photos of the fire damage and the workplace safety report, and I sigh dramatically.
“You might be right. But God, I hope you’re wrong.”
“Me too.”
Istay back at the D’Angelo Construction office until the early hours of the morning, and because of that, it’s a struggle to get up when my alarm goes off. Which is not at all like me.
I could work right up until an hour before my alarm, have a short power nap, then do it all again, providing I get a decent sleep the following night. The problem is that I’m not sleeping well in general. I haven’t been sleeping well since before Paige’s wedding.
Since the moment I first laid it all on the line with Keeley and she told me we’d talk about it. Now we’re having goddamn phone sex and still haven’t addressed any of the issues between us.
All I know is that I want more. As complicated as that might be.
As complicated as that is.
Keeley is only thirty-three. She’s beginning her life while I’m a few years past my midlife crisis. I own a fucking football team to prove that.
She’s going to want kids and a wedding. A wedding I could probably come around to, but kids? I’m well past that and— What am I even thinking?
We haven’t discussed any of that, and until we do, I’m spiraling for nothing. Again. While I have a company that’s literally burning to the ground.
I could have demanded we talk last night, but I didn’t. Instead, I let her talk me into phone sex, and fuck, was that an experience and a half.
My hand has never felt so good.
And I hate that it feels so wrong.
Like I’m using her without declaring my intentions, as old-school as that sounds. I am fucking old-school and I’m going to own it.
Why the fuck am I in New York when I could be home with Keeley in my arms right now?
Fucking Mikklesons. Yet another reason I need to put a stop to their bullshit.
I groan into my pillow, and I’m about to say fuck the world and roll over to go back to sleep, when my phone rings and I huff out a laugh. Of course someone would call the first time I ever decide to sleep in.
I blindly reach for my phone, only sitting up when I see that it’s Wes.
Since we’re three hours ahead it must be important. It’s only six a.m. there.
“Morning, Wes. I’m hoping the early call means you have some news?”
“I do. I’m meeting Vance for breakfast this morning, but wanted to speak to you first.”
“I appreciate that, but you know you don’t have to.”
“I know that.”
“Good. So what are your thoughts?”
“We still have the same issue that Thomas was worried about—with Vance and Beckett being similar in age—but they never actually played against each other. At least, not during the regular season. They’ve never been considered rivals and have only been mentioned in the same articles when the best quarterbacks have been discussed.
” I nod even though he can’t see me, waiting for more. “He’s a solid choice.”
“You’re right. He could be the exact guy we need to build strong backups so we don’t face another situation like this year.” Thank God for Beckett.
“I agree.”
“Good. And after talking to him on the phone yesterday, you still think he’s going to fit our culture?”
“Seems that way. He’s committed and says he’ll work hard to fit in with our team. He’s just started a foundation of his own, proving he likes to give back like the rest of us.”
“Sounds promising. Have we dug up any skeletons yet?” He has to have them. I know it.
“I found one. He was suspended for a game in his senior year of college.”
“Grades or a fight?”
“The reason wasn’t listed. I could call his college?—”
“That’s not necessary. It was college. We all did crazy shit back then.”
Wes laughs, and yet, I imagine the two of us are probably the only two people who didn’t do crazy shit in college. But we can’t fault Vance for that.
“Let me know how breakfast goes. I should be back tomorrow if he’s around.”
“Perfect. See you then.”
“Bye, Wes.”
I hang up and fall back onto the bed, releasing a slow drawn-out breath. At least things are falling into place for one of my businesses. Why I thought I could run them both is beyond me.
Is it possible I’m spreading myself too thin? It sure feels like it.
I need to fix that. Fast.