document your condition and medical causes even if you elect not to press charges.” He folded his arms, better to keep them occupied. She wasn’t ready to hear Zane had charmed the information from nurses, or lifted the evidence from files. The Taglionis had paid a considerable sum to keep the information buried.
“I wish you’d never seen them.” She’d been seven months pregnant in the first one he’d seen. She’d sported two heavily bruised eyes and a cracked cheekbone. In another, her eye bone had been fractured. The later photos showed a consistent pattern of abuse, though he’d veered away from her face.
A broken wrist.
A broken collarbone.
A littering of bruises. In one he’d left her back crisscrossed with bruises and whip marks. He’d used a belt, from the looks of it. Ryan had catalogued every injury in the last five years. Detailed all of them, paying particular attention to the injuries that could be corroborated. Illinois would grant a divorce for irreconcilable differences only if both parties agreed—since she’d indicated Giles would never agree willingly, he had to rely on other information.
“Physical cruelty.” Tiffany’s breath hitched. “Mental cruelty, criminal behavior?” Tears shimmering in her eyes, she faced him. “What criminal behavior?”
“His family is heavily invested in trucking and transporting. They have some pretty interesting clients.” Clients who wanted items shipped they didn’t want anyone else to know about. Smuggling didn’t look good on the books. Ryan had already engaged a forensic accountant to scour public records and find a pattern.
“That doesn’t mean he’s a criminal,” she began, biting her lower lip hard and drawing his attention to the injury she’d done herself. “Does it?”
Incapable of ignoring the hurt, he pushed away from the sofa and paced to her. Cupping her face, he cradled her soft cheeks in his palms and nuzzled the wounded lower lip. The faint brush of his tongue elicited a groan from her. When her arms twined around his neck and her mouth opened, he deepened the kiss.
He tasted the coffee and a hint of butter toffee from her favorite creamer. Below that, the faintest touch of hazelnut. Sugar and spice, and everything nice.
The urge to claim clamped down on him, and his wolf stretched. Easing away from the kiss, he leaned his head back, but drew her close. His ragged breathing and racing heart served as a testament to his fraying control. The desire to claim had to be tempered with letting her heal, strengthening her battered spirit, and the base acknowledgement of her personal freedom.
“I’m not going to give you a false sense of comfort, Tiffany. Everything I’ve managed to turn up on Giles Taglioni indicates he is involved in his family’s business, even the less savory aspects of it.” The anxiety in her scent climbed and she sat abruptly.
“I always thought—thought he had too much entitlement, but rich people can be like that. They expect things to happen, and they have the money to make them happen.” She ran a hand over her face. “I think that’s why all those other attorneys turned me down. They didn’t want to cross him.”
All the other attorneys were cowards. He kept the thought to himself, however. “I’m filing the papers in the morning, as well as asking for an emergency restraining order to keep him away from you and Alexis.” Navigating the human legal system would take finesse. He had more than enough evidence to make a case for keeping Taglioni away from Tiffany.
“He never hurt Alexis.” She swiped at her tears, her anguish turning fierce between one breath and the next. Yes, his lovely lady was far stronger than she realized. “I would never have allowed that. I know it sounds stupid considering he beat on me more than once, but I always thought if I were a little stronger, a little better, a little more obedient…it would stop.” Then, before he could respond, she shook her
“I wish you’d never seen them.” She’d been seven months pregnant in the first one he’d seen. She’d sported two heavily bruised eyes and a cracked cheekbone. In another, her eye bone had been fractured. The later photos showed a consistent pattern of abuse, though he’d veered away from her face.
A broken wrist.
A broken collarbone.
A littering of bruises. In one he’d left her back crisscrossed with bruises and whip marks. He’d used a belt, from the looks of it. Ryan had catalogued every injury in the last five years. Detailed all of them, paying particular attention to the injuries that could be corroborated. Illinois would grant a divorce for irreconcilable differences only if both parties agreed—since she’d indicated Giles would never agree willingly, he had to rely on other information.
“Physical cruelty.” Tiffany’s breath hitched. “Mental cruelty, criminal behavior?” Tears shimmering in her eyes, she faced him. “What criminal behavior?”
“His family is heavily invested in trucking and transporting. They have some pretty interesting clients.” Clients who wanted items shipped they didn’t want anyone else to know about. Smuggling didn’t look good on the books. Ryan had already engaged a forensic accountant to scour public records and find a pattern.
“That doesn’t mean he’s a criminal,” she began, biting her lower lip hard and drawing his attention to the injury she’d done herself. “Does it?”
Incapable of ignoring the hurt, he pushed away from the sofa and paced to her. Cupping her face, he cradled her soft cheeks in his palms and nuzzled the wounded lower lip. The faint brush of his tongue elicited a groan from her. When her arms twined around his neck and her mouth opened, he deepened the kiss.
He tasted the coffee and a hint of butter toffee from her favorite creamer. Below that, the faintest touch of hazelnut. Sugar and spice, and everything nice.
The urge to claim clamped down on him, and his wolf stretched. Easing away from the kiss, he leaned his head back, but drew her close. His ragged breathing and racing heart served as a testament to his fraying control. The desire to claim had to be tempered with letting her heal, strengthening her battered spirit, and the base acknowledgement of her personal freedom.
“I’m not going to give you a false sense of comfort, Tiffany. Everything I’ve managed to turn up on Giles Taglioni indicates he is involved in his family’s business, even the less savory aspects of it.” The anxiety in her scent climbed and she sat abruptly.
“I always thought—thought he had too much entitlement, but rich people can be like that. They expect things to happen, and they have the money to make them happen.” She ran a hand over her face. “I think that’s why all those other attorneys turned me down. They didn’t want to cross him.”
All the other attorneys were cowards. He kept the thought to himself, however. “I’m filing the papers in the morning, as well as asking for an emergency restraining order to keep him away from you and Alexis.” Navigating the human legal system would take finesse. He had more than enough evidence to make a case for keeping Taglioni away from Tiffany.
“He never hurt Alexis.” She swiped at her tears, her anguish turning fierce between one breath and the next. Yes, his lovely lady was far stronger than she realized. “I would never have allowed that. I know it sounds stupid considering he beat on me more than once, but I always thought if I were a little stronger, a little better, a little more obedient…it would stop.” Then, before he could respond, she shook her
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