“It’s not about what I want—it’s about what this city needs.” Richard’s brow tightens. “You make it sound so simple, but I assure you, it’s quite complicated.” He smooths the hair sticking up on the crown of his head. “Do you understand how much debt this city was in before the mayor took office? Millions of people are collecting pensions for the first time in years. This city has been resurrected.”

He pulls back his sleeve to check his watch before shaking his arms, straightening his jacket. Richard regards his drink. “I tried to give you a chance, Lia. But you’re stubborn and, like everyone else, expendable.”

“You’re going to kill me.”

He sets his drink on the table. “You’ve given me no other choice.”

Richard takes a step closer to me as if he’s considering murdering me with his bare hands here in the mayor’s living room.

The doorbell rings.

Neither of us moves. We stare each other down. Before I have a chance to flinch, Cullen walks into the room wearing mesh shorts and a waffle-knit shirt. His hair is wet and combed to the side. His eyes are bloodshot. Cullen looks between us before settling on me with disregard. “Why is she still here?”

Richard holds his ground, blocking my path to the door and whoever’s on the other side of it.

Heart pounding, I grab my purse and coat from the couch, hoping Cullen has created an opportunity. “I’m leaving.” I have no idea whether Cullen has any allegiance to Richard.

Richard glares at me. “Not until I make the proper arrangements.”

Even if I somehow escape this room, he’ll have me killed. Stabbed. Dumped in the river. One way or another, my death is inevitable.

The doorbell rings again.

“You going to take care of that?” Cullen pours himself a drink at the wet bar from the same decanter.

Richard grabs the remote, switching the station to the grainy gray footage of a camera crew standing on the other side of the mayor’s door.

It looks like Emi, dressed for the gala. She bangs on the door, demanding someone open it.

Richard stares me down like a snake about to strike. “Cullen,” he says over his shoulder, “get rid of them. Tell them your dad will be releasing his statement within the hour.”

Cullen throws back the brown liquid in his glass and coughs. “What if they’re here for me? I was there tonight.”

Richard raises his nasal voice. “Then decline to comment.”

Cullen wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and heads for the door. Cullen mumbles something derogatory under his breath that I don’t catch, and I don’t care to either.