Chapter 46
Cormac
The minute I step into that ballroom, it becomes all too clear who will get more attention tonight. Scarlett’s sleek black number might as well have arrived on its own, under a spotlight.
I’ve kissed every inch of her and have gotten lost in all those curves now on display.
I do take pride in the way she walks beside me like she was born to be on my arm.
Chin high and smiling. Every jealous bastard in the room looks at her like they want a shot at her next.
That if I were to let her go, she’d be quickly scooped up. That thought makes me dizzy.
Those jewels I clasped around her neck glitter against her throat like a collar. Like a warning. Scarlett Ford belongs to me.
She only falters and tightens her hand around my elbow the moment she spots her father. He doesn’t greet his daughter with a smile. Bradley Ford’s lips thin in disapproval, and he looks at me like how dare I let his daughter walk around with her tits practically hanging out.
“You wore that last year,” is all he murmurs to her, like that’s the bigger crime. “I told you then I didn’t like it. Didn’t like how Pierce made you twirl for his friends.”
Last year. She wore that last year. With Langston. She fucking twirled for his friends?
My molars grind, but I keep smiling. I won’t jump to conclusions or make a scene. I’m getting better and better at controlling myself. I just keep breathing. Keep pretending I deserve this award.
As bad luck would have it, we’re seated at the Langston table, and Scarlett looks shaken all over again.
Like the day he ruined her life. But with her father on her right and me on the left, and the presentation starting soon, I squeeze her hand under the table and hope that pushes all the anxiety away.
“We meet again,” Pierce Langston says, standing behind us, holding a scotch.
Uncomfortable at the height imbalance, I stand and place my hand on Scarlett’s shoulders, making sure he sees my thumb caress her back. The way a man does when he’s been intimate with every inch of a woman. Pierce may or may not love her, but he clearly wanted to own her.
The diamond choker around her neck and my possessive touch are a slap in his smug face.
I won, motherfucker.
“Is this your way of apologizing to my wife?” I motion to the table. “Giving her husband the best seat in the house.”
Langston arrogantly throws his head back and laughs. “Absolutely. Now you won’t miss a thing.” He leans in. “And neither will anyone else.”
What’s he getting at? Miss what?
“Congratulations on the award.” He swirls the ice in his scotch and says with a slur, “I rallied the committee votes for you to have it.”
My heart fucking stops.
I cannot believe I fell into his trap. I want to haul my wife out of here. A bloodbath is coming. And she will have to watch. Have to suffer the humiliation with me.
Clearing my throat to regain some dignity, I say, “I volunteered my time to help patients with MS. What have you done that doesn’t come with a six-figure medical bill?”
Pierce smiles and pulls me closer by the back of my neck. “I’ll tell you what I did. I bought Scarlett that dress. And then I fucked her in the men’s room. She never wore underwear for me.”
There won’t be panties to ruin…
And she did mention fooling around in a lounge. But I won’t slut-shame her for wanting to indulge her sexual appetite.
I grab Langston by the arm and yank him a few feet away from the table. He bristles, his drink spilling. I keep my cool and train Pierce with a deadly stare to let him know what a piece of garbage he is.
“Do you expect me to be jealous that you raped my wife?” I mutter angrily.
Pierce goes bright red, wiping spilled scotch from his sleeve. “No. No. She begged for it.”
“From you? I highly doubt it.” I shove my hands in my pockets, staring at him, making him more uncomfortable. Too many people refuse to face their attackers.
“I predict after the event tonight, Scarlett will be going home with me.” He glares at me.
“And commit adultery? That’s your specialty, Dr. Langston.” I lift my chin and force myself to stay calm.
He whispers in my ear, “I will fuck her ass in my car. And then give my driver and guard a turn. Whether she wants it or not.”
Jaw tight, I just stare at him like he’s insane. Like he’s a child on the edge of a tantrum. Thinking he has the upper hand of a rational adult.
Pierce waits like he’s expecting me to behave badly. That’s what this was all about: getting me to react in public.
The lights dim, and applause rolls through the ballroom as the MC steps on stage.
Pierce bumps me to put his empty glass on the table. “Showtime,” he sneers and struts toward the stage in a waft of alcohol.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a last-minute program note,” a nervous MC speaks from the stage podium. “This year’s Board Volunteer Award presentation will now be led by Dr. Pierce Langston.”
“Of course, he’s presenting the award,” I mutter.
I’m two seconds from texting Harrow to give me a hot-shot so I can take Langston out. Instead, I sit and lace my fingers with my wife’s hand under the table.
Hold on, baby…
“What is Pierce playing at?” Scarlett murmurs. “He didn’t do this last year.”
I lean in and kiss her on the cheek. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
Langston takes the mic and struts away from the podium. Oh God, this won’t end well for me.
“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we honor a once-promising physician.” His eyes narrow on me, and his smile sharpens. “A man who overcame…hardship.”
Scarlett’s eyes slip closed. “Shit.”
Pierce’s voice turns to velvet-coated poison. “Dr. Cormac O’Rourke excelled at UCLA. Was at the top of his class. As well as his twin brother. Perhaps the registrar got them confused.”
I don’t react. I won’t give him the satisfaction. This is a room of mature adults who will see right through this. This makes him look bad, not me. I have to keep telling myself that, or I’ll lose it.
“Who could have predicted this shining star would fall so fast?” Pierce waves a hand to a screen that drops behind him, and my blood goes cold.
No. Not that.
Photos flash on the screen. But it’s Cascadia. For a brief second, I relax. He got photos from the surgery, or maybe they’re stock photos. Pierce talks about how I bucked the administrators who ruled the kid was inoperable. And that I operated on the kid anyway, in the middle of the night.
I don’t even remember the kid’s name. He was just one of thousands I operated on.
I blink through tears at the crash of applause and even people standing up. I give a soft nod and wipe a tear to show how moved I am.
“Hang on with that admiration, folks,” Pierce says wryly from the podium. “Then this happened.”
Oh no.
The next photo is my fucking mug shot. God, I don’t recognize myself. Gray skin. Sunken eyes. Face gaunt. I was high, starved, and head pounding from the car accident.
I turn and slip a look at Bradley, who stares back, eyes demanding answers. Gasps ripple through the room. Scarlett squeezes my hand and looks at me with worried eyes. I shake my head, letting her know I’m choosing not to make a scene.
Langston blabbers on about me in an unhinged rant usually saved for rage bait on social media.
I glance around, and some people are on their phones, probably looking for these photos, which they won’t find.
The Langstons must have paid someone to dig them out of cyberspace’s trash can, someone craftier than my brother Balor.
“Cormac…” Scarlett whispers, her head on my shoulder. “Let’s go. You don’t have to take this.”
I watch others get up to leave. Either because they don’t think I deserve the award, or maybe they just can’t watch Pierce make a fool out of himself.
“No. I won’t give him the satisfaction.”
She squeezes my hand. “You’re right.”
Just when I think this montage can’t get worse, it does.
“And for those who want to believe Dr. O’Rourke champions women’s rights and causes, maybe we need to ask this woman.”
My heart slams into my stomach when a photo appears on screen of a very pregnant Ana from our Vegas days. Skin broken out, hair greasy, and wearing cheap clothes I bought at a thrift store with money I had left over from using, she is so unrecognizable, it’s fucking jarring.
Oddly, Pierce doesn’t name her. Does he know she’s Bratva? That he won’t make it to another sunrise if he outs her?
“That baby bump is Dr. Cormac O’Rourke’s illegitimate child.”
More gasps sound off around the room.
“Oh my God,” Scarlett hisses. “His vileness knows no bounds.”
I want to drop my head in my hand, but I stay upright. J.P. is mine, but his birth certificate says he’s Darragh’s. And DNA wouldn’t be conclusive. I want to claim James Patrick. But not like this.
It’s best I say nothing.
Pierce is now tossing my plaque back and forth in his hands like a football, further showing his massive disrespect to the foundation that sponsored this event rather than at me, his intended target.
Tucking the plaque under his armpit, Pierce reads from his phone, “Arrest records from Nevada charged Dr. O’Rourke with fraud.
Conspiracy. Theft.” He clicks his tongue.
“Oddly enough, no charges for human trafficking or abuse. Apparently, his victim was so afraid of him that she didn’t sign a formal complaint against him. ”
Scarlett stands so fast that her chair knocks over. “Shut up. You’re a liar,” she yells.
“Scarlett!” Her father grabs her wrist. “Cormac, sit her down. Control your wife.”
I merely lay my hand on her bare back. “Babe, he’s only embarrassing himself.”
“I can’t let him get away with this.” She sits with a huff. “He’s doing this because of me.”
I nod because she’s right. “And I married you, knowing you had a live wire ready to blow up. I can handle it.”
“And now, that soured, brilliant doctor is married to one of his medical students!” Pierce slaps the award. “Are you going to get her pregnant and leave her alone with a child, too?”