The next time she asked me about my job and my clients, this was what I’d talk about—not the murderers I defended because they paid exorbitant fees for me to get them off capital punishments, not the mafioso who had me on retainer because I was better with loopholes than a knitter. This.
This was my legacy.
Flushed with success, I did the unthinkable—after listening to the speeches of some of the charity workers, the heads of the homes my charities funded, the coordinators, I took to the stage.
I’d never done that before, but I felt on top of the world for once.
Most of the attendees had been listening to the other speeches with half an ear, their interest waning. They weren’t here for the cause, just to curry favor with me, so when I stood before the podium, I drew the room’s gaze.
With no speech planned, I decided just to verbalize what I was feeling. How proud I was of FAST. How proud I was of what I’d achieved.
Funny how that pride was something I felt because Wynter had made me realize how ashamed I was of my career.
Dirty money.
Blood money.
But, through both, my charities existed so it couldn’t be all bad.
"I see very few strangers amid the crowd and know most of you all intimately.” It didn’t hurt to remind them of those favors they owed me again. “Your repeated support of FAST means more than you could possibly know, and to be fair, more than a lot of you even care to know.
“I’m aware that your support is tied to your work with me, and I don’t begrudge that.” I shot the crowd a rueful smile and it drew some titters of amusement from around the room before I declared, “You’re here, and that’s all that matters.
"This year, things are a little different on a personal front. I lost a man who was like a second father to me, and my own personal circumstances are changing. It reminds me of a time when I was eighteen, just about to turn nineteen, and I was pregnant… I was terrified. Absolutely petrified. I had no idea where to go, what to do, who to turn to. A foundation like this one would have meant the world to me."
I never shared private information, and I knew from the shock on the faces of those in the front row, that they hadn’t anticipated my revealing something so personal.
But it was okay.
Two group meetings with Giulia’s Posse, and I was realizing that Tiffany was right—I wasn’t the one who’d done anything wrong.
I was the victim.
I was the survivor.
Shame wasn’t something I should be feeling when I thought about my attacks.
That was on them.
Tiffany hadn’t wrought miracles, but being around people whom Rex’s brothers loved, women who were all like me, there was no denying that it helped.
A lot.
And that it gave me hope.
A lot.
Still, the hardened cynic in me had me pursing my lips as I said, "Life being what it is, things didn’t work out for me but I’d like to think that some women out there get to have their child and an education at the same time.”
That didn’t cut through to the heart of my personal circumstances, but that would definitely have been oversharing.
I let my words settle and cast my gaze around the room once more.
That, of course, was when I saw him.
It was only years of maintaining and developing my poker face in the courtroom that enabled me to carry on talking.
"That’s why FAST exists,” I continued, even though the sight of him had my heart pounding.
Had he had a haircut? It wasn’t like he was unrecognizable, but in the tuxedo, he couldn’t have looked any more different.
Throat thick, a strange ache in my chest appearing as I watched him raise his glass to me, I managed to choke out, “To make sure that women have options.” I blinked. “They can have both. This isn’t the Dark Ages. It doesn’t have to be either/or. So, that’s why I’m grateful to you all. Because you help make that happen." I knew my smile turned strained, it probably even wobbled as my eyes turned to Rex again. "Thank you for being here."
Though the applause I received was boisterous, the confidence and flushed joy I’d had before dissipated some, even as a slow burn heat started to grow inside me.
As supportive as I knew Link was, even he hadn’t attended tonight’s gala.
Not only because of Giulia and Kendra’s fight, but because of the tux too.
Yet, here Rex was… sitting at a table, hobnobbing with Manhattan’s elite like he belonged in these environs.
And to be frank, in that get-up, he did.
I licked my lips as I stepped away from the podium.
When the auction began, I always helped the assistants with the lots, so it wasn’t like I could go to him.
Wasn’t like I could do much more than stare at him as he stared at me.
It helped that I wasn’t on the stage, but at the side, so I could watch as he raised his flute of champagne again and took another sip all while his gaze was locked on mine, and the act of drinking became an extended affair.
I had never known anything like it.
As I watched him, I was sure time slowed. All I knew was the heat of his gaze, the warmth of that regard, the need that unfurled throughout my limbs. That craving, again, lodging deep inside my being.
I’d always been his. Always. That brand Lily wore, I should have one, but I didn’t deserve one.
I’d pushed him away, always pushing, never drawing him to me. But the love I felt for him was real. So real. It was an ache in my being, one that had my heart crying out for him.
I’d denied us both.
Wasted so much time.
But it wasn’t my fault.
It wasn’t.
The Posse had taught me that.
Those bastards were to blame.
That didn’t mean I had to let them keep on stealing more precious moments from me.
Change was coming; a thought that was rammed home as he watched me watch him.
I didn’t even hear the gasps as a lot heated up, not until one of the assistants elbowed me in the side.
“Eighty thousand on the Hermés bag!” she half-gasped in my ear.
Torn from the moment, I turned to watch the crowd and saw Luciu Valentini was engaged in a bidding war for the questionable bag that had been donated by a husband who was sick of the sight of it.
“Ninety.”
My lips quirked as, aware attention was not on me, I called out, “One hundred!”
There was dead silence, then Luciu tossed down, “One-twenty.”
My eyes bugged at the price, but the woman at his side squealed with delight.
I studied her, certain I’d seen her before…
Then it hit me.
She’d been at Bellevue Hospital when I’d gone to collect Luciu from there with a police escort.
His arm had been broken in the holding cell after his arrest and, like he’d asked, I’d had him taken to Bellevue where I’d met up with him after he’d visited with his sick great-uncle who was in the prison hospital there.
Mind whirring as I watched the woman throw her arms around Luciu, I collected the bag once the auction was over.
I wanted nothing more than to go to Rex, but with a single donation of a hundred and twenty thousand dollars, Luciu deserved to have the damn monstrosity delivered to him by hand.
"For you, I assume?"
The woman with him squealed again which made Luciu laugh as she cradled the purse I handed to her.