I Left The Jester For The King

ouse, Franco hugg

ensitive skin of my neck. "But you need to relax. Why

to the kitchen to p

I threw it into the junk drawer, right next to a pile of dead batteries and loos

humming to himself, deaf to an

name was a well-guarded secret, known only to my publisher. My boo

re clamoring i

te s

nd actually

cross the keys. The scene required no inve

pte

zes the man she sleeps next to is a stranger. S

olio of evidence. I began printing the photographs of the duplicate invoices and the side-by-side

sked, walking back into the

ed in my chair, blocking his view of the

For the new book. Tax documents, property deeds. It

. Everyone likes a happy ending." He checked his watch and emptied his glass in a single, practiced m

e addressed to a journalist who specialized i

lub where the families min

was a sheath of black silk,

ted against my ribs. Xavier, Franco's best friend and a fellow s

!" Xavier shouted, r

a smile, lifting a glass of water to

I saw

mi

skirt was hemmed too high, the shirt unbutto

was not an accident. He had placed

her eyes locking onto Fran

ark that sliced through the bass. Liquor spla

e associates yelled, jumping

nking back, her face a carefully co

napped, wiping at his shoes. "A

on the table. The boom w

anco barked. His fa

n't defend the help. Not here.

ice tight, a muscle flickering in his jaw

with wide, watery ey

n at me, confused. "Franco,

, his eyes glinting with a cruel, drunken idea. "Go on, swee

laid bare for the

co. She took a step toward him. She swayed

l faint," s

e stood up, snatched the glass of wa

ced to the table, a lie constructed with suc

ist to steady her. In front

the words meant for her, but lou

he was claiming his territory. My hand tightened on the strap of my clutch, my knuckles turning white, the delicate chain digging into my skin. I