“That girl is so trifling,” she talked over him. “After I gave her information about the brunch, she hung up on me. I just don’t understand how you can put up with that—”

  “Enough!” Paul roared, and his mother jumped. “I will not have you talk about my wife like that!”

  Her eyes went wide, and she took a step back with her mouth ajar. He had never raised his voice or disrespected her in any way, but he’d had enough.

  “I’m sorry, but this has to stop. I get that you don’t think she’s good enough for me. And you think she’s not worthy to be a part of this family. But how dare you badmouth her in my face!”

  “Well, I’d have to be blind not to notice that she doesn’t like me either.”

  “But she’s never treated you like you were beneath her or like she was a second-class citizen. Can you say the same?”

  At least she had the decency to look contrite. Martina said her share of bad and inappropriate things about his mother. But unfortunately, it had been warranted, and Paul hated that he didn’t address the situation sooner. Granted, he’d talked to his mother about her attitude towards his wife, but clearly, he needed to do more.

  “From now on, if you can’t show my wife the respect she deserves, I won’t be coming around. I’ve been a fool asking her to come here with me, knowing that all you’re going to do is turn up your nose to her. Well, those days are gone.”

  “Paul, you’re overreacting.”

  “Am I?” he asked, moving closer and crowding her. “How’d you feel when grandpa treated you like a leper when you first started dating dad? It wasn’t pleasant, was it?”

  Her smug expression dropped and was replaced with one of contrite.

  His father, Paul Sr. had come from old money and his parents had wanted him to marry the daughter of a friend of theirs. But his father had fallen in love with his Angelica and was willing to be kicked out of the family to be with her. It hadn’t come to that, but clearly his mother had forgotten about that time in her life.

  “You remember how grandfather made you feel. Yet, you’re treating Martina the same way. Well, not anymore. Since you can’t treat my wife with respect and make her feel welcome when she’s here, neither of us will be back.”

  Movement in the doorway caught his attention, and he was surprised to see Martina. She was standing there looking beautiful but unsure. Dressed in a short, red halter dress that showed off her toned arms, flat stomach, and shapely legs, Paul stood speechless. He couldn’t believe she was there.

  Martina stepped into the room but stopped. “Hi. Sorry I’m late.”

  If you can’t show my wife the respect she deserves, I won’t be coming around.

  Martina hadn’t meant to listen in, but they were talking loud enough to be heard outside the door. It made her heart dance at hearing Paul defend her. He always defended her, but never with an ultimatum.

  She swallowed hard as she stared into his eyes from across the room. The butler had let her in and told her where to find Paul, but she had no idea that his mother would be in the office too. She’d hope to have time with Paul before having to come face-to-face with his mother.

  Apparently, not.

  Well, here goes nothing.

  Martina strolled into the room with her head held high. Her gaze stayed on Paul until she was a foot from where he and his mother stood.

  She turned her attention to Angelica. “I’m sorry I’m late. I wasn’t sure what to bring, but I thought that maybe your favorite bottle of wine could go with dinner.” She held up The Prisoner Red Blend 2019 bottle of wine in her right hand, then lifted her left hand. “And maybe the Macallan scotch would be good for after dinner.”

  Angelica placed her hand on her chest, and tears bloomed in her eyes.

  Okay, this is a first.

  The woman actually looked grateful, or maybe that was sorrow that Martina was witnessing. She hadn’t been sure what to expect upon arrival, but this wasn’t it.

  “Thank you,” Angelica said, her words sounding heartfelt as she accepted the bottles. She set them both on the desk, and then she shocked the hell out of Martina when she embraced her.

  “Martina, I am so sorry for the way I’ve treated you over the years,” the older woman said, then pulled back slightly. “I promise you, going forward, you will know that you’re always welcome in our home. I know it’ll take time, but I hope you can forgive my horrible attitude.”

  She hugged her again, and Martina glanced at Paul and lifted an eyebrow. He gave her a slight smile and shrugged.

  God, it was so good to see him.

  When Angelica pulled away, she dabbed at her eyes, and Martina knew she needed to say something.

  “Angelica, thank you for inviting me to brunch.”

  Angelica smiled. “You’re welcome, dear. You’re always welcome here.” She grabbed the liquor and glanced between Martina and Paul before heading to the door but slowed. “Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes. I expect you both at the table and not upstairs in one of the bathrooms.”

  Martina gasped, and she could’ve sworn she heard the woman giggling on her way out the door. She swung around to Paul who was laughing.

  “She knows what we did,” Martina whispered.

  “Sounds like it,” he said and closed the distance between them.

  Martina’s hands started sweating. There was so much she wanted to say to Paul, but she didn’t know where to start.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said.

  “I’ve missed you more,” she said, feeling a little choked up. “Paul, I’m so sorry…for everything. I know I’ve promised a hundred times to watch my mouth and clean up my behavior and attitude. Unfortunately, I have failed every time.”

  “Sweetheart.”

  “But going forward, I’ll do better,” she talked over him. She had to get this out. “You have my word that I will never speak ill of your mother or father again. I feel awful about the way I embarrassed you the other night. If you want, I’ll apologize to the governor.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” He reached for her hand, but she threw herself into his arms and practically sent them both crashing to the floor.

  “Whoa,” Paul said with a laugh and righted them.

  He held her close, and neither of them said a word as they stood in the middle of the office just holding each other. Suddenly, tears blurred her eyes, and she cursed under her breath.

  “These damn tears.”

  Paul chuckled and placed a kiss against her temple but didn’t let her go. “I’m sorry I left,” he mumbled against her hair.

  “Don’t ever leave me again,” Martina said, not bothering to wipe the tears that were flowing freely. “Please don’t leave me.”

  “I won’t, baby. You’re mine forever. Big mouth and all.”

  Martina sputtered a laugh and leaned back to look at him. “Good.”

  He wiped her tears with the pad of his thumb and stared into her eyes. “I know I’ve been hard on you, but I hope you know that I love you more than anything.”

  “I know, and the feeling is mutual. Things are going to be better. I promise.”

  He nodded and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

  “Now that we have that settled, let’s go eat. I’m starving,” Martina admitted, and her stomach growled. “Or…since we’re the only two people in here, maybe we should test out your dad’s desk. Do you think it’ll hold us?”

  Paul shook his head and laughed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Not giving her a chance to respond, he lowered his head and kissed her. Martina’s heart melted. Paul was her everything, and she was going to do whatever it took to become the person he deserved. Even if it meant cutting out her tongue.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Okay, so now what is this nonsense that I’ve heard about you acting like a normal person?” Peyton Jenkins-Cutter asked her cousin Martina.

  For the last twenty minutes, they’d been discussing family reunion business. But before they hung up, Peyton wanted the scoop. She’d heard that Martina and Paul had gone through a rough patch but seemed to be back on track.

  “What have you heard?” Martina asked.

  “I heard that you had some type of out-of-body experience, and you’ve been replaced by a human.”

  “Ha, ha, ha. I see you have jokes,” Martina said with a laugh. “My ass hasn’t changed that much. As soon as I find the person who’s been talking behind my back, they’ll get a taste of the old MJ.”

  They talked for a few minutes longer, and Peyton listened as her cousin filled her in on the latest between her and Paul. Peyton had always known that the man was a saint, but the longer he put up with her cousin, the more she was sure of it. Martina was a handful, always had been, especially when they were growing up.

  She and Martina weren’t only cousins but also best friends. Peyton knew her better than anyone, and one thing she knew for sure—Martina was madly in love with Paul. It would’ve destroyed her cousin if Paul had left for good.

  “Well, I’m glad you two worked everything out. I can’t imagine you without him or vice versa.”

  “Yeah, he might not know it, but he’s stuck with me. I’d follow him to the end of the earth if I had to. Okay, enough about me. What’s up with you and that hunk that you’re married to?”

  Peyton smiled. She was sitting in the living room of their renovated brownstone, and her gaze landed on one of the photos on the mantle. It was a picture of her, Michael, their son—Michael Jr., and her stepdaughter Michaela who felt like her own flesh and blood. The three of them were her heartbeats.

  Michael might’ve been her second husband, but life with him was better than anything she had ever experienced. He was loving, considerate, and ridiculously protective of her. Each day with him was a new adventure, and he was everything a woman could want in a man. And that’s what she told her cousin.

  “Yet, you’re missing Cincinnati to the point of wanting to relocate back here,” Martina said in that smart-ass tone that grated on Peyton’s nerves. “Have you told him yet?”

  Peyton sighed. “No.”

  “What are you waiting for? Are you scurred?” she taunted, using an alternative form of scared.

  “Of course not! I just want to make sure that’s what I want before I talk to him about it.”

  “You already know that’s what you want. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have brought it up with me and the girls weeks ago. So, what’s really holding you back?”

  Martina was right. Peyton was almost positive that she was ready for a change, but not at the expense of upending her family’s life.

  “There’s so much to consider, MJ. It’s not just about me. I have to think about how this would affect Michael and the kids. So that’s why I haven’t said anything. I’m sure when the time is right, I’ll have that talk with Michael.”

  That was a talk she wasn’t looking forward to. Michael grew up in Brooklyn and absolutely loved the city. It was home for him. If she ever did share her thoughts with him about moving, it wouldn’t be an easy conversation.

  Michael Cutter didn’t bother turning on the overhead light as he strolled into his small office. There was just enough sunlight slipping between the semi-opened blinds to guide his steps to his desk. Besides, the dimly lit room was just what he needed in order to take a breather.

  The moment he sat in his leather office chair, he released a long, exhausted sigh. He laid his head back and closed his eyes as he enjoyed the peacefulness of the moment. He loved being a private investigator, especially now that his business had taken off. Problem was, he was barely keeping up.

  No pain, no gain. The popular quote flitted through his mind.

  He had wanted more clients. He got them. Now he had to figure out how to manage it all. Thankfully, his father, a retired NYPD detective, had agreed to help him out on a part-time basis. Carlton Cutter was actually his stepfather but had been more of a father than Michael’s birth father had ever been.

  Michael pinched the bridge of his nose trying to block out thoughts of the man who had nearly killed his mother. That was how Carlton had come into their lives. He’d been the responding police officer when Michael was a kid and barely able to pull his father off of his mother.

  He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts free. Not a day went by that he didn’t thank God for Carlton. The man had saved his life more than once, and Michael would forever be in his debt.

  Opening his eyes, he sat up and glanced at his smart watch. It was almost two o’clock in the afternoon. He wished he could cut out early and go home to his wife and block out the rest of the world, but daddy duty called.

  Today, he had to pick up the kids from summer school and take them to their karate lessons. Throughout the year it was either that, dance classes, basketball, football, or soccer. They stayed busy, and once they all got home, he’d need to spend some quality time with his wife.

  It never ends, he thought.

  Michael loved Peyton and the kids more than life. Yet, there were some days when he wished he could stop and take time to breathe.

  Today’s not that day.

  Michael booted up his computer so that he could upload pictures that he’d taken during the past week. A recent client, Bobbi Green, had hired him to get proof that her husband was cheating on her. But as of a few days ago, Paul had a feeling that the man was not only cheating but also involved in something shady.

  He just needed proof.

  Michael had gotten a few photos of the man leaving restaurants and hotels with women who weren’t Bobbi. She would be pleased to learn that her suspicions were correct. Hector was a dog, and in the three weeks that Michael had been trailing him, he’d seen him with at least two different women.

  Bobbi was planning to divorce him but wanted proof to back up her claim that Hector was unfaithful. As a wealthy woman, she’d had Hector sign a prenup. If at any time he was caught cheating, he wouldn’t get a dime should they divorce.

  The woman had married Hector seven years ago despite the fact that he’d been a construction worker with a shady work history and little money to his name. He was also ten years her junior. But she had made him into what she wanted him to be—a dutiful husband who helped her run her businesses and who was also eye candy. Somewhere along the line, he started to stray.

  Michael uploaded the photos and other documentation. Since he still had some time before he needed to report back to Bobbi, he planned to use the time to continue surveillance on Hector. A few days ago, he’d gotten photos of him standing in the shadows outside of a bar called Charity’s. What was interesting was that he’d been in a heated discussion with a man that Michael recognized. A low-level drug dealer, Curtis Barnes, who was connected to a well-known drug cartel.

  Michael yawned and laid his head back against the seat as he rubbed his eyes. Man, he was tired. He was going to have to grab a coffee for a little pick me up before he picked up the kids.

  “Rough day?”

  Michael glanced up to see his dad’s huge frame filling the doorway. Carlton was a giant of a man who Michael admired more than anyone in the world.

  “More like a long day,” he said. “What are you still doing here? You’re usually gone by noon.”

  Carlton leaned on the back of one of the guest chairs positioned in front of the desk. “I had some paperwork to finish, but I’m leaving now unless you need help with something.”

  “Nope. I’m good. The only thing I have left to do today is officially close out the Brockman case.” That required some paperwork and sending their billable hours to their accountant for her to emit a final bill to their client.

  “All right, then I’ll see you in the morning.” His dad pushed away from the chair. “Have a good evening and give the fam a hug from me.”

  “Will do. See ya, dad.”

  It took Michael fifteen minutes to wrap up the Brockman’s case and send information to the accountant. He locked up his desk and had just shut down his computer when he heard the outer office door. Normally, his dad locked that door when he left, but maybe he had forgotten.

  Michael stood to check it out, but before he could round his desk, a man entered his office.

  Hector Green.

  He appeared a little more imposing up close. Built like a heavy-weight boxer, Hector was in his mid-fifties with a low haircut, and he was graying at the temples. Dressed in a three-piece suit that probably set him back a couple of thousands, he could’ve easily blended in with those on Wall Street.

  “You don’t look surprised to see me,” the older man said.

  “But I am. What do you want?” Michael asked, and stiffened when the man pulled a SIG 365 from the back of his waistband.

  Shit.

  Unease clawed through Michael as he tried not to make any sudden moves. It wasn’t the first time someone pulled a gun on him, and in his line of work, it probably wouldn’t be the last time.

  Michael slowly slid his hand to the small pistol that he had velcroed beneath his desk. Like his father, he’d been an NYPD detective before leaving the force and always had a weapon nearby.

  “Hector, why don’t you put the gun away and we can discuss this situation like two adults,” Michael tried to reason.

  “No way. You and that witch I married are trying to destroy me! You don’t know who you’re dealing with!”

  “What do you want?” Michael asked again.

  “My wife accused me of cheating and told me that she’d hired you to find proof.”

  Dammit. What the hell was Bobbi thinking?

  “I want everything you have on me. Documents, videos, photos. Everything. There’s no way I’m going to let some two-bit private investigator ruin everything I’ve worked my ass off for. And since you’re trying to ruin my life, maybe I’ll do the same to you.”

  He raised the gun and Michael noted how steady the man’s hands were. Clearly, he was comfortable holding the pistol.

  Michael had his hand wrapped around the grip of his own gun and waited.

  “I want everything now!” Hector roared. “Then I want you to call my wife and tell her that you don’t have anything on me. Tell her that she’s shit out of luck.”

 

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