The Pretty Face of Justice

This is book 3. Please read the other books before this. The first book is called The Pretty Face of Revenge.

Preston

This is such a fucking cruel joke. Just when I think my father can’t be any more of an asshole, he takes it to a whole other level.

It’s been three weeks since Ava moved to New Italy, and it feels like just yesterday I watched her get on the plane and walk out of my life. I wanted to run after her and beg her to stay, but I had to let go. Her safety is all that matters.

The server brings me out of my fog, placing her hand on my shoulder. “Sir, would you like some wine?”

“No.” My father answers before I can.

“You’re going to make me attend this fucking debacle of a wedding sober?” I snap at him.

He looks around confirming no one is listening. “This is a family event. I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

I know my father doesn’t give a shit about spending time with me. He’s worried about how it will look if I skip my cousin’s wedding.

The only reason I’m at this sham of a wedding is because my father agreed to reduce the check-stop regulations in exchange for my presence. Dollars with medical emergencies, including pregnant women, will now be allowed to pass through after hours. My relationship with my father is so fractured that I made him put it in writing because I don’t trust a word he says.

The server delivers my raspberry vinaigrette salad. It smells like shit, although all food these days seems to make me nauseous. My father gobbles down his salad, and I leave mine untouched.

I look around the room at the dozens of tables with tacky over-the-top center pieces. It’s outdoors, and the heat is sweltering. The humidity is so high that the tent feels like I’m trapped in a sweatbox. My uncle is so cheap that he didn’t even splurge for fans.

I slump back in my chair, unable to believe that Michael is getting married. The same Michael that when I asked him to stop Ava at the check stop, he sexually assaulted her.

Fucking Michael.

I glance at him, who is seated at the head table wearing a tuxedo. He smiles at me and holds up his glass. By the end of the night, I’ll wipe that smug look off his face.

I still can’t believe Michael is out of prison. It was yet another one of my father’s harsh lessons. Michael literally intended to rape Ava, and my father used it as a learning opportunity. At least my father stuck to his bargain to vote to make rape illegal, but I also made him agree that Michael was to be put in prison. But, according to my father, I should have stipulated how long Michael had to stay in prison.

Michael is sweating profusely, and black hair dye is running down his forehead. At least he had the sense to try to cover up his frosted tips. It’s fucking hilarious and I reach for my phone to take a picture, but remember, I left it in the car. It’s way too hot for me to even consider making the long walk back to the parking lot.

His bride, Brooklyn, points to his forehead and he wipes it. He kisses her on the neck, and she pulls away from him. He puts his hand under the table. The tablecloth prevents my sight line, but she squirms, trying to move away from him.

I’ve met Brooklyn at some family events and she seems great. She does a lot of charity work with kids, and we bonded over that. She’s sweet, unlike her asshole rapist husband.

The middle-aged server comes back. “Was something wrong with the salad?” she asks, concerned.

“No.” I give her a polite smile and she takes the plate away.

The discussion at the table is centered around politics and petty bullshit. I get up and go to the bar. My father is crazy if he thinks I’m surviving this wedding sober. I loosen my tie and take a sip of whiskey. Olivia approaches me and I take a larger sip of whiskey, then turn in the other direction, but she catches up to me.

“Hey, Preston.” She holds onto my arm, and I step back.

“Fuck off,” I say coldly.

“Preston.” She pouts and puts her hand on my shoulder. “I didn’t betray you.”

I roll my eyes and step away, but she tugs at my elbow. “Say what you have to and leave me alone.”

She smiles and looks around the room. “What a sham of a wedding. He fucked two of the bridesmaids last night at the reception. One in the bathroom and the other in the back of the coatroom. I laughed in his face when he asked me to come back to his hotel.” She runs her hands along my arm. “I wouldn’t say no to you.”

I swallow the rest of my whisky and put it on a table, then return my attention to Olivia. I move close to her. “When will you get it through your head? I want nothing to do with you. You are fucking dead to me.” I walk off, and this time, when she grabs my arm, I yank it off and keep going.

She didn’t set me up the night Ava walked in on me gambling on Dollars lives, but she’s far from innocent. She screwed with Ava throughout our relationship, including lying to her that I had oral sex with her in front of everyone at Oxford’s party. Olivia also didn’t tell me that Chelsea and Oxford intended to kill Ava.

“Preston,” she calls after me, but I hold up my finger and head to the bar for another drink.

I return to my seat and dinner is waiting. It’s a pasta dish and I push it aside. My uncle is in the washroom, and Oxford takes his seat. He swipes my fork off the table and starts eating my meal, chewing the food annoyingly loud.

“I didn’t expect you here,” Oxford asks, then runs his hands through his greasy hair.

“I’m here to support my cousin,” I say sarcastically.

“Have you talked to Ava lately?” He takes another big bite and slurps the long string of pasta. “I miss looking at her. Fuck, she’s hot. Now that you’re done with her, I was thinking, I’d give it a go.”

He’s baiting me, and I refuse to respond. But the thought of him anywhere near Ava makes my stomach turn.

“Hey, Auntie Agatha.” I soften my voice and she turns. “Oxford was just telling me about how much he likes antiques. I bet he’d love to hear about the new lamp you just picked up at an auction.”

“Oh, dear.” My aunt puts her hand on Oxford’s arm. “This is a gem of a story.”

Oxford stands up abruptly. “I should get back to my seat. I see they’ve delivered my dinner.”

“Okay.” I smile at him. “Make sure you come back later so you can hear the whole story.” I nod, and he rolls his eyes.

The server takes my dinner away and delivers dessert. Strawberry cheesecake used to be my favorite, but I can’t even look at it and push the plate aside.

“Preston, you should eat something,” my father says.

“I’m not hungry.” I hand my full plate to the next Dollar server walking by and she takes it.

“Do you want another dessert? Was something wrong with it?” she says, and I realize what an asshole I am.

She’s probably starving, and I’m throwing food away like a spoiled brat. Ava’s judgmental eyes flood my memory. She would be disgusted that I’m wasting food. “Can you wrap it up for me, please?” I ask. I’ll give it to her when she comes back. Ava would be happy with that.

Michael clinks his glass with his fork, signaling that it’s time for speeches. Everyone quiets down and turns their attention to the front. Brooklyn’s bridesmaid, Sarah, gives a speech about her and has several cute stories about them growing up. It’s sentimental and hilarious.

Michael’s best man gets up and makes a wildly inappropriate speech about Michael’s sexual exploits. Brooklyn’s face drops, and she pushes the dessert around with a fork. The speech is never-ending, and eventually my uncle gets up and stops it.

Brooklyn stands up, but Michael whispers something in her ear, and she sits down. Michael’s speech is crass and cringe worthy. Part way through, he glances at me and says, “I’m slumming it by marrying a Euro beneath me, but at least I didn’t date a fucking Dollar. It doesn’t get lower than that.”

“Preston, don’t.” My father puts his hand on my shoulder when I move forward in my seat.

“Details matter.” I turn to my father. “You forced me to come, but you should have stipulated in writing that I behave.”

“Seriously, you fuck a Dollar, you don’t date them.” Michael continues to stare at me and chuckles. “And you definitely don’t send family to prison over a Dollar whore.”

“So, we are doing this?” I raise my voice. “I just want it on the record; I planned for this to be less public.” I sit back in my chair with my elbows on the armrest.

“Say what you need to?” Michael snaps. “I’m not scared of you.”

I stand, and you could hear a pin drop when I walk to the front. I rest my elbow on the elevated head table. “I’d like to hear how you think Brooklyn’s slumming it being with you. From where I’m standing, she’s the one getting the bad deal.”

“A plain-looking girl like her could only hope to marry someone as popular as me,” Michael says, and I resist the urge to hit him. He’ll get what he deserves soon enough.

I turn to face Brooklyn and a tear streams down her face. “Brooklyn, you look stunning tonight and deserve way more than an asshole who has hair dye running down his sweat-soaked face,” I say, and people laugh. I toss Michael a napkin, and he scowls at me. Then I scan the crowd and point at her father.

“What?” His eyes narrow.

“This is obviously a business transaction between two conglomerates. Clearly, you are forcing your daughter to marry Michael. Is the stock bump worth selling your daughter to a rapist?”

“Preston!” my father shouts, but I ignore him.

I tap my fingers on the table and look casually at her father. “I’m waiting for an answer.”

“I haven’t seen anything to show that Michael isn’t a stand-up guy,” he protests.

Michael’s reputation as a womanizer is well known and after his best man’s speech, her father can’t pretend to be oblivious.

“Let’s discuss that.” I smirk and turn to Michael. “You should still be in prison, but you aren’t because my father wanted to teach me a lesson. You fucked two of her bridesmaids last night,” I say, and one of the bridesmaids chokes on her drink. I scan the five bridesmaids and start at the maid of honor. “Great speech.” I nod, and she smiles. “It was endearing. So, I don’t think it was you.” I turn my attention to the one that sputtered on her drink. “Closet or bathroom? I’m going with closet.” The girls face flushes, and she looks away.

“Preston, stop it!” my father shouts.

“So, who’s the second one?” I tap my hand on the table. It’s dead quiet while I scan the girls’ faces. “A wise person once taught me how to tell if someone’s lying. You look to see if their eyes dilate, their breathing increases, and their pulse races.” One girl is looking down, avoiding eye contact. I take her wrist, and her pulse is racing. “It’s you, isn’t it? If she’s the closet, that would make you the bathroom.” She shakes her head, and I turn to the crowd. “Olivia, how’d I do?”

She chuckles. “The girls are right, but the redhead was in the bathroom, and the brunette was in the closet.”

“Michael, isn’t she your cousin on your mom’s side?” I start laughing, and there’s mumbling in the crowd. “Michael, you had sex with your cousin.” I turn to her father and shrug. “Do you still think he’s a stand-up guy?”

“We aren’t blood related,” Michael blurts out.

“Does that matter?” I chuckle. “Oxford, you’re an expert on this. You’ve had sex with both a blood-related cousin and a cousin through marriage. Did it feel different?” All eyes turn to Oxford, and he glares at me.

If I thought there was a chance that Ava would ever return, I’d never go after him, but I know she won’t. He put me through hell, I can’t pass up the opportunity to fuck with him.

“You asshole. You’ll get what’s coming to you,” Oxford spits out the words.

“I was bluffing. I wasn’t sure about the blood-related cousin, but I guess it’s true.” There’s mumbling in the crowd, and Oxford’s face turns bright red. I return my attention to Michael. “Where were we?”

“You act so high and mighty, but your mom was sold to your father.” Michael raises his voice.

“My mom’s family had way more money than my father’s. But go ahead, do tell.” I glance at my father, and his jaw tightens.

“Michael, stop it,” my uncle shouts.

There’s a story, and I want to hear it, but not publicly at my mom’s expense. “Michael, you’re going to be arrested at any moment. When my father got you out of prison, he didn’t tell me, or I would have had you watched. I can’t believe after what you did, you got your old job back as a guard. But this time, you’re not getting out.”

“What?” Michael shouts.

“After what you did, I had hundreds of security cameras set up at check stops. You sick fuck, you raped someone on your first day of work. When I eventually heard you were out, I immediately checked the cameras.”

“It’s not illegal to sexually assault a Dollar.” Michael glares at me.

“So you’re not even denying it. But, sorry, it actually is illegal. You must not have heard in prison. I thought it would have been a hot topic in there. Three weeks ago, the law was passed to make rape illegal.”

Michael’s jaw drops.

“The video evidence is enough to put you away, so don’t bother trying to threaten the girl so she won’t testify. You’re high profile and are perfect for me to make an example out of.”

Michael crosses his arms. “Who cares what happens to Dollars? They deserve whatever they get.”

“That girl is a person. She has parents, family, and friends who love her. What is wrong with you?”

“You’re not exactly the picture of morality.”

“I never said I was.”

“You won’t get away with this.” Michael steps towards me.

I shrug, then look at my father who is glaring at Michael. “The one person who could have saved you looks pissed, and from my experience, he’s not one to easily forgive, especially when you go after my mother.”

Michael groans and Brooklyn puts her hand over her mouth to suppress a grin. I pull out money and toss it to her father. “I’ll even pay for the annulment. If you ever try to sell your daughter again for a business deal, you’ll learn what it’s like to be poor. I guarantee it.”

I fucked up my life, but Brooklyn deserves a chance at love.

I walk through the crowd and put my hand on my father’s shoulder. “Aren’t you glad you made me come? We should talk later. Apparently, there’s a story you’ve kept hidden from me my entire life. I wonder if mom knows?”

My father is seething. He’s angry at me, but his rage is focused on Michael. I wonder what Michael knows.

I turn back for one final parting shot. “Michael!” I shout, and all eyes turn to me. “I don’t give a shit if you call me a whore, but never fucking call her that again.”

I walk out of the tent and a light breeze cools me off as I head to my car. The police pass me on the way, and I nod and chuckle to myself picturing Michael being arrested. I am the asshole who arranged to have him cuffed and hauled away at his own wedding. The viral video of his arrest should send a clear message that rape has consequences.

I get in my car and there’s a tap on the window.

I look up and roll down the window, surprised to see one of Ava’s best friends. “Delilah, I didn’t know you were working at the party.”

“I was preparing food in the back. You should eat something.” She hands me a container and a fork. “Ava would be proud of you,” she says and walks away without another word.

I sit in my car and slump back. Ava believed that when something bad happens, it’s important that good comes from it. I hope she would have been proud of me. I open the container and take a bite of the cheesecake. Once I’ve polished off the last bite, I turn the car on and check my phone. I scan through some messages, and then my stomach drops.

There’s a picture of Ava holding hands with a guy and she’s staring up at him with a grin. The caption says: Look who’s moved on. It was posted two hours ago. The post is anonymous, and only Elites can see it because our news feed is allowed across borders. I open the car door and throw up until there is nothing left.

Ava told me she planned to move on, but I didn’t think it would be this fast. I have no right to feel it, but I’m pissed at her.

I continue to look at the picture while I drive and scan each pixel. She’s smiling at him, and I can see her adorable dimple. It’s like a train wreck; I want to look away, but don’t have the strength to. You can see it’s a genuine smile that reaches the corner of her eyes.

It’s done; we’re done. I’ve checked my bank account repeatedly and she hasn’t cashed the check. That was the only reason I was clinging to hope. That check was for the money my father offered her to break up with me. She said she wouldn’t cash it because that would mean we were through. But I should have known she’d never take blood money from me; she has way too much pride.

The finality of it creeps in and oddly enough, I’m happy for her. She deserves better than me. Ava is the best and should have someone as incredible as her, but fuck it burns, and I do the one thing I told myself I would never do.

I dial.

“Hello,” she answers the phone and my voice falters. “Hello,” she says again

My hand is trembling and the phone slides through fingers landing in my lap. The lump in my throat prevents me from speaking.

“Ava, come back.” A male voice calls. It’s raspier and deeper than Pellegrino’s. She’s with another guy, probably the one from the picture.

I hang up the phone, and a sob escapes me from deep within