Page 29 of Devious Roses
“We’ll have staff that’ll handle it. And a nanny.”
“No nanny,” I answer, then I let a soft smile take over. “I want to raise our kids myself. With you.”
“Is that your way of telling me what you want right now? Sounds like you want to skip dinner and go straight to ‘fucking a baby into you.’”
“You’ll never let that go!”
“Sorry, Phi. But it sounded so damn hot coming from those lips. As you moaned and squeezed my—”
“Ahem,” I interrupt with heated cheeks. “The server.”
Salvatore throws an unconcerned glance over his shoulder. “They’re getting paid generously for tonight. The deal is, they see and hear nothing that transpires.”
“So very mafia of you.”
He winks at me. “Would I have it any other way? You’re a mafia wife, Phi. You know that, right?”
“How can I forget?” I answer, at first amused. Then, memories of earlier today flood in and my good humor evaporates. I study my wine glass and decide it’s time to catch Salvatore up. “Polk happened to run into me today. I was out to lunch with Medjine and Carlos.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s a little too obsessed. Too much for my liking.”
“He keeps insinuating he’ll be speaking to you soon. Jon, I think he’s serious about reopening my father’s investigation.”
Salvatore shrugs. “I’ve never been afraid of the law. Not when I was a troublemaking teenager getting hauled in on bogus charges like truancy. Not now if I’m brought in on some other bullshit. The system’s corrupt. You’ve found that out more than anybody.”
I refrain from answering, returning my gaze to my wine glass. Deep down I know everything that Salvatore says is true; Northam’s system of law and order couldn’t be more corrupt. Everyone from the mayor to the police commissioner to the district attorney has proven to have dirt on their hands and skeletons in their closets.
It was part of the reason I had to walk away from my campaign for DA and career as ADA. I couldn’t stomach the rampant corruption and shadiness another minute. Even Dad’s soul ended up having a price, the one man I always thought was incorruptible.
But I worry that Salvatore’s underestimating the same system we know is broken—he’s waving off what could become a real threat to his very freedom.
Then it’ll be on me.
It’ll be in my hands to defend him and get him off.
The scariest part is, if the powers that be want to find him guilty, theywill. Regardless of how well I represent him in court. To add insult to injury, I’ve burned so many professional bridges with different judges like Ortiz and Kodjoe, I doubt that wouldn’t play a factor too.
Salvatore draws me out of my worrying thoughts with a pointed stare. “Don’t do it, Phi. I can see it all over your face. You’re thinking about what would happen if this thing makes it to trial.”
“Because I would be the one to defend you.”
“I wouldn’t put that on you. I’ll hire a defense team.”
My brows knit. “Do you really think I’m going to stand by as my husband possibly goes away to prison when I am fully capable of getting him off?”
“You’re the best attorney in the city. Everybody knows that. Your father knew that.”
“Well?”
“You’re also my wife. You know I don’t like getting you involved in my mess.”
“But I am involved. I’m always going to be involved. I’ll handle Polk. One way or another.”
Salvatore casts me a look that’s almost scolding—as if he recognizes the dark undercurrent of my words—but then he lets it go a moment later.
We’ve been served our dinner. Delicious lemon chicken piccata on a bed of handmade linguine.
“You know what this conversation reminds me of?” he asks as we slowly dig into our meal. He picks up his knife and fork and cuts into his chicken breast. “Do you remember how we used to debate good and evil when you were younger?”