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“Doesn’t look like you’re gonna have anything left,” I said, making my way out the back door.
My main job at the moment might technically be the Russians. But I had some other things I needed to handle with my small crew. The whole while, all I kept thinking about was how to expand, get more money kicking up to me. I was comfortable. But raising a family was expensive. And my mind was suddenly focused on shit like weddings and babies, college tuitions, all the things that came with adding new branches to your family tree.
I was so distracted that I almost walked right past Serano when I saw him on the street.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
To that, he shrugged.
“Cinna brought your sister by to hang out, told me I could get lost for a bit. Got some food,” he said, waving toward the pizza place he was standing out front of. “‘Bout to head back,” he added.
I was debating whether I should cut my day short and head back with him when my phone started ringing in my pocket.
I reached for it, anticipating Rico.
But it was Cinna’s name on my screen.
I knew before I even swiped to answer and heard her panicked voice on the other end that something had just gone terribly wrong…
CHAPTER TWENTY
Elizabeth
It was unexpectedly stressful and bittersweet to write up my resignation letter.
Not because I had any loyalty toward the senator. I mean, I’d lost all respect for him well before I learned he was trying to help a human trafficker get away with his crimes.
But I’d gotten close with the people on the campaign with me. Endless hours were spent in one another’s company. Sharing stress, relief, highs and lows. Thousands of cups of coffee with small talk to go along with it. Mini mental breakdowns over late-night pizza or Chinese.
I knew whose partners were pissed off with how much time they were devoting to work, or in some of their cases, volunteering. I knew who’d missed important milestones with their loved ones because Michael had changed his mind, and demanded we work late. I knew who’d gotten engaged over the last few months. And who was about to tell the world they were going to have a baby.
These people were the closest things I had to friends. And I was, in a very brief and feelingless letter, abandoning all of them.
I knew it would feel like an extra betrayal when, eventually, the news ran with the recording of me getting the senator to admit to his crimes.
For not giving them a heads up, for many.
But for some who genuinely loved the senator, for reasons I never quite understood, for doing something to ‘make’ him look bad. Even if it was his own actions that were truly to blame.
I tried to squash my guilt by reminding myself that Michael wasn’t exactly going to be brought to justice anytime soon. And that in the meantime, he was going to do everything in his power to change the narrative, to get the court of public opinion—the only court that mattered in his opinion—back in his favor.
There would still be jobs for those who were on salary. My main concern being the one woman who was pregnant and the other young man who had borrowed the money for his engagement ring from his father and was trying to pay it back.
They would be okay.
A crisis management team would be hired. Then they would likely be busier than ever.
I was really the only one out of work.
I had savings, I reminded myself after I sent out my email, then walked away from my laptop, not wanting to fall into the trap of endlessly refreshing my inbox, waiting for all the hate responses to flood in. I would be okay for a while.
And there was nothing stopping me from looking for freelance work as soon as I finished sharing the recording I had of the senator. At least that way, I would know I was safe.
As much as a part of me was hopeful that Elian could find a way to fix this situation with the Bratva, there was obviously a chance that he wouldn’t be able to do that.
Then what?
I had to move?