My smile vanishes as I emerge from the bathroom and find my father waiting for me. “What are you doing here?”
He tightens his stance, annoyance appearing to be the dominant emotion clouding his features. “The apartment supervisor informed me you were taken away via ambulance yesterday. It took quite some time to locate your whereabouts.” His stare travels the length of my body. “It seems you gave your neighbors plenty to talk about.”
I’m not exactly sure what he means, nor do I care. He’s probably miffed at how the incident will reflect on him. But I’m counting on that. Until this moment, though, I didn’t realize just how much.
I release the handle to the bathroom door and step toward him, my ire blazing and raring for a fight. “I’m only here because of you. You pushed me down a flight of stairs and jeopardized my baby’s life.” Anger causes my voice to quiver, but it’s his look of stunned revulsion that boils my blood. “You didn’t know I’m pregnant. But there’s a lot you don’t know about me. Shall I enlighten you?” I nod as his eyes narrow further. “Yes, I think I should. The first thing you should know is that I’m filing charges against you for assault and harassment.”
“Against me? Go ahead and try,” he quips. “You’ll be laughed at, and any pitiable charge against me dismissed.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m interning for the office whose primary role is to investigate such charges. Unlike in your presence, I have a voice there. But it’s not simply the criminal matters that should concern you. That’s only the beginning. I’m also bringing a civil suit against you.”
“It was an accident, Contessa!”
“No, it wasn’t. And if you think the lawsuit involves this event alone, you are very much mistaken. I’m suing you for decades of financial and emotional abuse—your persistent vying for control, your ongoing harassment, your wretched cruelty, and the disgusting way you’ve used me for political gain. Everyone will know of it—everyone. Even those you consider so far beneath you.”
He fixes me with a scowl, but then laughs. “You want to play games, little girl—fine. We shall play them. My legal team will tear you apart.”
My steps are slow and purposeful. After what he did, and how he almost cost me my child, I’m no longer afraid. I’m angry. This man has caused me nothing but harm. “I’m not a little girl. I’m a woman with the best legal education money can buy. You think your attorneys are good, wait until you see me in action. There’s a reason I graduated at the top of my class.”
He looms over me, trying to force me to cower, exactly as he’s done all my life. This time, he doesn’t succeed, and he doesn’t like it one bit. “You’ll never win,” he grinds out.
“It’s not about winning. It’s about showing the world who Donald Newart really is. You’ve taken everything from me. But I assure you it ends today, and I swear to God so will your reputation when I’m done with you. Good luck in court, and with your involvement in Spencer’s campaign. You’re going to need it.”
“You wretched—”
“I would seriously watch the next few words that come out of your mouth,” Curran warns. He stands in the doorway with Killian, and with his other brothers directly behind him. It seems he never made it to the cafeteria, and that he and his family heard our conversation.
Menace drips like tar in the way Curran regards my father. He marches toward him, his mere presence forcing Father to edge aside, and away from me. Killian’s rigid grasp to his shoulder holds him in place, but just barely. I clutch Curran’s hand, fearing what will happen if he strays within reach of my father.
Curran takes a controlled breath, keeping his glare trained on my father as he places his arm around me.
The remaining O’Briens pile forward, appearing to overtake the entire room, their sheer numbers compelling my father further toward the exit. Curran’s attention never wavers. “You hurt Tess and jeopardized our baby’s life,” he tells him, his voice so lethal it’s almost too much to bear.
An odd sense of recognition tightens the hard lines in my father’s scowl. He finally realizes who Curran is. “I didn’t know she was pregnant. But it shouldn’t surprise me given your past,” he sneers.
If it weren’t for the firm press of my hand to his chest, Curran would have stormed forward and pummeled him, I’m sure of it.
“I don’t believe we’ve officially met,” Declan says, stepping in front of him. “I’m Assistant District Attorney Declan O’Brien. I should inform you that my office will investigate any and all criminal charges my future sister-in-law brings forward, and offer our support any way we can. I should also inform you that whether you were aware of her pregnancy or not, you pushed her down a flight of steps, risking her and her unborn child’s lives. Some, like me, would argue it was attempted murder. How do you think your legal team—or for that matter, a civil or criminal jury—might interpret your actions, given your history of mistreatment?”
The color drains from my father’s face. He turns on his heel, but Curran’s voice freezes him in place. “Hey, Newart. Just so you know, if you ever make my girl cry again, these legal charges will be the least of your worries.”
I lean heavily into Curran when Father stomps away. I’m not sure why he came, but informing him that I’m bringing legal action against him has put a dent in his plans.
Curran’s family closes their circle around us, speaking quietly. Their support and kindness mean a great deal; so does Curran’s love. Given my encounter with my father, I’m not sure how I would be holding up without them.
Never mind; I’m not holding up. I start to cry against Curran’s chest, not because I’m scared, but because I’m relieved. Regardless of the stress my legal actions will cause, for the first time, I feel a sense of control, but more important, peace.
And I have Curran’s love to thank for it.
Chapter 29
Curran
“Later, Levon,” I call to him.
Levon smiles. It’s forced, but it’s a step forward—not the expression of defeat he usually carries. And the way he stands makes me think he’s not done fighting yet.
“Later, Curran,” he yells back.
I cross through the church garden again, pausing in front of the Holy Mother. I thank her for giving Levon another week with us. I also thank her for Tess’s laugh that morning, and for keeping our baby safe. Tess hasn’t laughed much lately. But since the doctor assured us everything’s fine, and now that she’s twelve weeks along, she’s smiling more, and yeah, laughing, too.
As if on cue, my phone buzzes.
Hey, cop. I miss you. Is everything all right?
I speak into the mic and send her back a text. I’m fine. Group went a little longer tonight. Who am I kidding? It went a lot longer. I was supposed to meet Tess an hour ago.
Are you coming to the pub?
I grin. Of course I am. Can’t miss my brother’s big celebration, can I? Not every day one man destroys an entire mafia empire.
I know. Twenty consecutive life terms for Montenegro alone. Can you believe it?
No. Declan fucking owned it.
So you’re coming? For sure?
I’ll be there in fifteen.
Good. He needs you. Despite all the higher-ups here, they don’t mean as much to him as his family.