"It is none of your business."
Daniel's lips curled with spite. He turned to Alex. "Did you know she is a lesbian—or maybe bisexual… who knows?"
Alex met his gaze. "Maybe she just wasn't getting good dick."
Eva sputtered behind him, her composure cracking as laughter bubbled up. Daniel's face darkened instantly, rage contorting his features.
"You son of a bitch! Get the hell out of my house."
Alex turned and looked at Eva, concern radiating in his eyes. "Do you want me to leave you with him?"
She shook her head, no longer wavering.
Alex spun back toward Daniel, authoritative now. "You heard the woman. You are trespassing actually—and one tap of my phone, you'll be carried out of here like a sack of potatoes and dumped on the sidewalk."
His fury redirected, Daniel rounded back to her, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth. "You can have the public slut. I want nothing to do with her anymore." He pointed sharply at Eva, venom dripping from every syllable. "You disgraced me! My son is nowhere to be found because of you!"
That cut deeper than any lie. Eva's throat constricted, memories flooding in.
"And yet…here you are."
Daniel's face contorted with rage again. "I'm going to make sure you crawl back into the hole you resurrected from, you fucking bitch!"
"I'm all for woman power and everything," Alex muttered, leaning toward Eva with an exaggerated whisper, "but am I just supposed to stand here and watch him call you names?" He cocked a brow. "I mean… my mama raised me right but nowadays, you women are always wanting to be… what's the word… capable."
Eva shot him a look. Her lip twitched in spite of herself.
"I'll handle this." She stepped forward, even though her hands trembled slightly by her sides. "Leave now, Daniel. Or I will call the police."
Daniel's eyes widened as if the very thought offended his ego more than anything else. "You don't need the police! What the fuck are you doing? You wanna waste taxpayer dollars on this piece of shit?" Alex snapped, stepping slightly ahead. His fingers flexed at his sides.
Daniel took a step forward, and Alex took two.
"Leave, Daniel!" Eva barked this time, stepping between them before her kitchen became a crime scene. Her heart pounded in her chest. Two men, tangled in her life in different ways, now seconds from coming to blows.
Daniel's chest heaved. He pointed a finger at her, eyes hollow and wounded. "You'll regret this," he hissed. And then he turned, storming out of the house, slamming the door hard enough that a picture frame rattled on the wall.
Eva finally exhaled, her breath shaky. Her body sagged slightly against the breakfast table as though all her strength had fled the second the threat left the room.
"You let him talk to you that way." When she looked at him, he was already reaching for his shirt, fire dancing in his eyes. He threw it over his head with a frustrated grunt.
"He's just grieving in his own way…" Eva said softly. "And he needs someone to blame for the loss of our son."
"That's some bullshit, Eva. Grieving doesn't give anyone the right to emotionally decimate someone else."
She looked away, blinking rapidly. "You don't understand. He lost a child."
"Fuck that!" Alex snapped. "You lost a child too." He wasn't even trying to hold himself together anymore. His shirt hung open, half-forgotten, his chest rising and falling with frustration.
He looked at her.
"I'm gonna go." He said it quietly now. "Take care of yourself." Then, as if he couldn't help himself, he leaned in and pressed his lips gently to her cheek. It was brief but it lingered in the air long after he pulled away.
And then he walked out, shoulders tense, hands clenched, leaving behind the heavy scent of coffee, sex, and unfinished conversations.
Outside, the evening air slapped him awake. He scanned the surroundings, jaw tight, eyes sharp. No sign of Daniel. Still, he didn't trust the bastard. He'd seen the fury in that man's eyes. It was obsession wrapped in entitlement.
Alex climbed into the waiting Mercedes and settled back against the seat with a groan, running a hand down his face.
He spoke to the driver without looking up. "Fred? Find someone to keep an eye on her."
"Understood, sir."
*****
Eva stood in the center of her kitchen. Her eyes drifted to the kitchen table.
And instantly, heat bloomed low in her stomach.
She closed her eyes, cursed under her breath, and opened them again to face the crime scene. The kitchen table. Good Lord.
She'd just been… right there. Legs dangling, hair a mess, mouth open in ecstasy. She could still feel the phantom press of his lips on her skin, his hands gripping her.
Her fingers brushed her lips unconsciously. It had been so long. She had forgotten how it felt to be wanted.
And dammit, her body had answered the call before her brain had even finished calculating the risk.
She sighed, the sound full of ache and regret, and moved to the counter where her bag lay. Her phone was half buried inside. She fished it out.
Twenty missed calls from Brian.
Her heart skidded. Twenty?
Twenty.
Her mind spiraled instantly. What if it was about her son? What if something had changed? What if they found him? What if something happened and she'd missed it?
She clutched the phone to her chest for a second, too scared to look and too guilty to breathe. The memory of Alex's hands on her hips flashed through her mind and nausea curled in her belly.
If she'd missed that the call because she was getting her brains fucked out, then she truly was the worst mother alive. She didn't deserve to grieve. She didn't deserve to hope. Not when her body could still betray her heart so easily.
Her hands shook as she tapped the call history.
She stared at the most recent entry. Brian. Again.