Tiana (Starkis Family #3)

by Cheryl Douglas

“And beat Christos before threatening to kill him,” Demi said quietly. When we all turned to face him—my mouth gaping and the police officers looking infinitely more interested—he shook his head. “Unfortunately, I saw and heard it all, Officers. He beat Christos badly.” Demi ran a shaky hand over his hair as though he was still trying to collect himself. “I’ve never seen such a disgusting display. But it wasn’t until he threatened to kill him that I realized my employee’s life was in grave danger.”

  “How could you?” I whispered, staring at my father. “How could you do this?” Then things began to fall into place for me. “Did you put him up to this? Did you send that man into my office to scare me?”

  “You always did have a vivid imagination, Tiana,” my father said, chuckling. “Or are you just so desperate to keep your husband out of trouble that you would put the blame for the whole mess on your own father?”

  He wouldn’t guilt me into taking my accusation back. I knew my father was somehow responsible for this. His being there wasn’t a coincidence any more than Blake’s being there was a coincidence. They both knew that if Blake saw anyone try to hurt me, he would react the way he had, and they set him up. I only wondered how much my father had had to pay Chris to take a beating like that.

  “You’re responsible for this,” I said, pointing at Demi. “You’re the one with blood on your hands, not my husband.”

  “We’re going to need both of you to come down to the station so we can take your statements,” the older officer said.

  “My husband?” I asked, wrapping my arms around my mid-section. “What’s going to happen to him? You’re not going to charge him, are you?” When they didn’t respond, I said, “You can’t! He was just defending me!”

  “Calm down, ma’am,” the younger officer said. “We’ll sort this out down at the station.”

  I watched them walk into the office, their handcuffs ready, and I knew they’d already made up their minds about what had happened. My father was a powerful man, not to mention a convincing liar. They believed I was just trying to protect my husband after he’d flown into a jealous rage.

  God, what a nightmare.

  “You won’t get away with this,” I whispered, invading my father’s space. “I don’t know how the hell you set this up, but I know you did. You were determined to keep Blake and me apart, and you think if he goes to jail…” I couldn’t even allow myself to consider that possibility. Living without him would kill me.

  “You’ll always have visiting days,” Demi said, smirking.

  I felt like slapping that smug smile right off his face. I couldn’t even believe this man was my father or that I’d ever been naïve enough to believe he had my best interests at heart. The only thing that mattered to him was winning at all costs.

  ***

  Blake was smart enough to demand a lawyer before answering any questions, but now he was locked in an interrogation room with the authorities, trying to explain how Chris had wound up in a hospital bed, while I tried to remember how to breathe. The police had already taken my statement. I’d tried to make it sound as though Blake had reacted the way any man would have if they felt their wife was being threatened, but I could tell by the detective’s leading questions that he didn’t believe Blake’s actions had been justified.

  My father was with the same detective now, probably trying to make Blake look like a menace to society. I wasn’t a fool. Men like my father had judges in their back pocket, but he’d never come up against an adversary like Blake. Blake would do everything in his power to fight back, especially if it meant being taken away from me.

  I was sitting in a hard plastic chair in the waiting room, watching police lead suspects through the doors in handcuffs, while praying that by some miracle, they would let Blake go without charging him. But even I knew that was unlikely.

  Deacon rushed into the station, looking more rumpled than usual. He ran his hands through his hair as he sat beside me. “What the hell is going on?”

  “You got my text?” I barely remembered sending it, but I knew it had said something about Chris being in the hospital and Blake being in trouble. I’d asked him to meet me at the police station because I knew Blake would need all of his influential friends.

  “Yeah. There are already reporters at Alabaster’s, demanding to know what happened.”

  I leaned forward and dropped my head into my hands. I should have known this would turn into a media circus. They were still hounding us about the wedding, and now we had given them something else to talk about.

  Deacon put his arm around my shoulders. “Tiana, I need to know what happened.”

  I didn’t know if we should talk about it here, but since I intended to tell my brother the same thing I’d told the detective—the truth—I didn’t see any reason to speak in private. “Chris came into my office when I was packing up. He was really angry about me marrying Blake, and he got physical with me—”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  I’d almost forgotten how menacing my brother could be when someone he loved was threatened. “No, he just tried to restrain me, but he would have tried to hurt me if Blake hadn’t come in when he did.”

  “You asked Blake to meet you at the office?”

  “No.” I still wasn’t sure how he’d ended up there. When we’d left the house that morning, he offered to come with me for moral support, but I told him I could handle it and would meet him at home later.

  “It was just a coincidence that he showed up when he did?” Deacon asked, looking confused.

  “I don’t think so.” I sat up straighter, preparing to tell my brother what I’d told the police. I couldn’t prove my theory and it may have made me sound paranoid or desperate, but Deacon knew our father as well as I did. He would believe me. “I think Dad set this whole thing up.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think Chris acted that way because Dad told him to or paid him or promised him something or—”

  “Slow down,” Deacon said, holding up his hand. “You think our father paid someone to attack you?”

  It sounded ludicrous, but when Demi set his mind on something, nothing got in his way, and he was determined to end my marriage.

  “Yes, I do.” I grabbed Deacon’s hand, desperate to make him understand. I needed someone to believe me, to assure me I wasn’t crazy. “You know he doesn’t want me to be with Blake and—”

  “Yeah, but come on, sis. He loves you. I can’t imagine he would go to those lengths to ruin your life.”

  And that was exactly what my so-called father had done—ruined my life.

  “He doesn’t love me,” I said softly, trying to will the tears away. I was too angry and hurt to cry over the relationship I’d lost with Demi. He didn’t deserve my tears. “He wants to control me. That’s all he’s ever wanted. When I married Blake, he realized he couldn’t anymore. This is the ultimate power play, his way of sending us a message that he still found a way to win the war even if we won the battle by getting married.”

  Deacon sank back in his seat, scraping his hands over his face. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?”

  He stared straight ahead for a few seconds. “No, sadly, I don’t. What you just described sounds like something Demi would do if he felt backed into a corner. We all know how much he hates Blake. When you married him, he must have felt betrayed, and you know the way Demi feels about people who betray him.”

  Deacon put his arm around me, and I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder. “I’m so scared. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Blake messed Chris up pretty badly.” I held up my phone. “I’ve been doing a little research. Blake could be looking at serious time for the assault charge, plus making death threats. More if they decide it was aggravated assault.”

  “Please tell me he did not really threaten to kill Christos,” Deacon said, sounding depleted. “He could not have been that stupid.”

&nb
sp; “He just said it in the heat of the moment. He wasn’t serious. But it’s my word against Dad’s, so who do you think they’ll believe?”

  “They’ll think you’re just trying to protect your husband.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Don’t assume the worst,” Deacon said. “Maybe good old Christos will develop a conscience and come clean. Damon’s over at the hospital right now, checking on him. He’ll get in to see him if he can.”

  “You really think Chris will tell the truth about what happened?” I didn’t, but I had no choice but to pray for a miracle.

  “Who knows?” Deacon kissed the top of my head. “In my experience, given the right incentive, people can be persuaded to do almost anything.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Blake

  What concerned me more than my own fate was the hell Tiana must be going through with worrying about what would happen to me. I had no regrets about beating on that loser, not after seeing his hands on my wife. But when I’d told my lawyer that, he warned me to shut my mouth unless I wanted to spend the next ten years in prison, enjoying occasional conjugal visits with my beautiful new bride. That shut me up.

  When the detective stepped out of the room, probably to check on the victim’s condition, my lawyer informed me that if I had beaten Chris to death, I was in deep trouble. Murray’s firm had been working for me for years, and they all had the same morose outlook.

  “What’s this I hear about you getting married without a prenup, you stupid bastard?” he said, leaning in. “Are you crazy or what?”

  Murray’s partner handled my personal litigation, so he would have been my go-to guy had I needed or wanted a prenup. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”

  “Were you drunk when you married her, ‘cause if you were, I think you’ve got grounds for—”

  “Shut. Up.” I was in no mood for anyone, not even my lawyer, to suggest I rescind any of the promises I’d made to Tiana.

  “Suit yourself,” he said, shrugging. “If you want to lose hundreds of millions in a divorce settlement, have at it.”

  I was trying to remain calm, but he wasn’t making it easy. “We are not getting a divorce.”

  “That’s what they all say, Blake. That’s what they all say.”

  I glared at him. “Do I pay you to preach about my personal life? That’s right. So shut the hell up unless I ask for your opinion.” Knocking my fist on the wooden table, I said, “Getting me the hell out of here is the only thing you need to worry about right now.”

  Murray checked his nails, probably gauging whether his last manicure had been worth the exorbitant price. Maybe it was because I was from Texas, but I didn’t understand why a dude would want to have shiny nails. Murray joked that he was a metrosexual, meaning he liked to look his best at all times. I understood that, but sitting down at some girlie spa to get a freakin’ manicure? Was that really necessary?

  “Relax,” Murray said, sliding a hand over his silk tie. “We’re looking at assault. You have no priors. We can probably talk the judge into community service.” He chuckled. “Or a big donation to his favorite charity.”

  “Don’t they bug these rooms?” I asked, suddenly paranoid. “We shouldn’t be talking about shit like this in here.”

  Murray rolled his eyes. “We’re not talking murder one here, Blake. Unless of course the guy dies.”

  Most of his clients would probably be grateful to be facing only a minor assault charge, but that didn’t make me feel any better. I just wanted to get the hell out of there so I could go home with my wife and put the whole goddamn day behind us.

  The detective returned with a file, and he opened it when he sat across from me. “We have statements from both your wife and father-in-law, Mr. Kessler. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to learn they paint a very different picture of what happened.”

  “My father-in-law is out to get me. Of course he’s going to say Chris was an innocent victim, but I’m telling you, I heard Tiana scream and—”

  “When you walked into the room, Christos had her pinned against the wall?”

  “Yeah.” I still saw red when I thought about it. “She kneed him right before I grabbed the son of a bitch.”

  “So it’s fair to say he was incapacitated and unable to fight back when you attacked him?”

  “Let me ask you a question, Detective,” I said, leaning across the table. “If you heard your wife scream and walked into the room to find some guy twice her size holding her against her will, how would you react?”

  He cleared his throat and glanced at my lawyer before returning to the statements in front of him. “My opinions aren’t relevant, Mr. Kessler. My job is to determine the facts.”

  “The fact is my wife was at risk, so I defended her. End of story.”

  “Mr. Starkis said you threatened to kill the victim.”

  “Haven’t you ever threatened to kill someone in the heat of the moment?” I rapped my knuckles against the table to expend some of my pent-up nervous energy. “Doesn’t mean I really want to see him dead.” I just wanted him as far away from Tiana as possible.

  “So your intent was not to kill him?”

  “Come on,” my lawyer interjected. “Don’t tell me you’re looking for an attempted murder charge here. You’d be lucky to get a second-degree assault conviction, and we both know it.”

  “Even with that, you can be looking at seven years, Mr. Kessler,” the detective said.

  I scowled at my lawyer, who’d been downplaying the severity of the situation just a few minutes ago. I knew why. Murray had a reputation for playing dirty, just like Demi. It was a small miracle he hadn’t been disbarred by now.

  “So do yourself a favor and tell me what really happened,” the detective said.

  “I already told you what happened.”

  Murray was swiping his fingertip across his phone as though he had more important business to attend to. Made me want to smack him upside the head, but that probably wouldn’t help my case, so I settled for clearing my throat and glaring at him.

  He finally pocketed his phone and sat up straight, looking more attentive. “What’s the victim’s condition?”

  “We sent someone down there to take his statement. He’ll make a full recovery,” the detective said grudgingly.

  Murray had explained the different levels of assault based on the severity of the victim’s injuries, so I knew it was a good thing I’d only roughed the guy up instead of inflicting permanent damage. But like the detective said, I could still be looking at serious jail time. I couldn’t let that happen. Not days after marrying the love of my life. If it did happen, the selfless thing would be to let her go so she could move on with her life instead of being tied to an incarcerated felon, but I hadn’t waited years to marry her only to let her go without a fight.

  “Why were you at your wife’s office, Mr. Kessler?” the detective asked.

  “Her assistant called and said Tiana needed a hand clearing her office out.”

  “Didn’t you think it was strange that she would have her assistant call you instead of calling you herself?”

  I shrugged. “Not really. I just assumed she was busy.” My assistant took care of calls like that for me all the time, so I hadn’t thought twice about it. I had told Tiana to let me know if she needed my help. “Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Your wife thinks her father arranged that call.” The detective watched me carefully, waiting for a reaction. He probably wanted me to erupt, to prove that I was volatile and became enraged at the slightest provocation.

  “It wouldn’t surprise me,” I said, trying to act nonchalant. “Demi hates me. He’s made no secret of the fact that he’s mad as hell that his daughter married me. He probably thought if he found a way to put me away for years, his daughter would have no choice but to divorce me.”

  I wanted to believe our love was stronger than that, but years without your spouse was a hell of a sacrifice for anyone
to make, especially a newly married woman who was anxious to start a family. My stomach cramped when I thought about throwing away her pills. We’d made love countless times since then. She could be pregnant. I could be leaving her alone with a baby to raise, and by the time I got out of prison, my child would be going to school, and I’d be a stranger to them. I wouldn’t let that happen.

  “So how do we prove they set me up?” I asked my lawyer. As far as I was concerned, that was his job. I didn’t expect the police to help me out.

  Before he could respond, the detective said, “The facts are the facts, Mr. Kessler. You assaulted a man.”

  “But there were extenuating circumstances,” my lawyer argued. “You can’t tell me—”

  “Please stand up, Mr. Kessler,” the detective said, cutting Murray off.

  I knew what was coming next. They’d led me from Starkis Headquarters in handcuffs, but assured me I wasn’t under arrest. Yet. That was obviously about to change.

  I stood, placing my hands behind my back as the detective cuffed and Mirandized me. I couldn’t even say this was my worst nightmare, because I’d never imagined I would be in this position. But being away from Tiana, possibly for years… that was my worst nightmare.

  ***

  Tiana

  Blake’s lawyer had assured me Blake would get out on bail today, but I hadn’t been able to sleep without him last night. I’d just curled up on the couch, drifting in and out, praying I would wake up in his arms and realize this had been a horrible nightmare.

  I wouldn’t rest until my father admitted what he had done and Chris agreed to drop the charges against Blake. I had a plan that I hoped would prompt my father to see the error of his ways. It was a lie, but given his deceitful behavior, I didn’t feel too guilty.

  Standing on my parents’ doorstep, I rang the doorbell while my stomach churned. My father could tell me that he didn’t want to see or talk to me, but this was my only hope. For Blake’s sake, I had to make this work.

  Their long-time housekeeper, Catherine, opened the door, and her smile slipped when she saw me. “I’m sorry, Tiana, your father does not wish to be disturbed.”