His smirk says it all. If I snatch his camera and smash it, then his face, I’m the bad guy. I’ll be on trial and he’ll retire from his sales of the story and photo proof.
A hoard of photographers are snapping and filming from the end of the large gravel drive which arcs around to the front of the house from the solid iron gates at the end near the street.
“Tell it to the cops,” I growl, eyeing his camera again, which I know he’s using to film me still.
“You are trespassing, and I will be pursuing a civil and criminal case against you, Mr. Kane,” I vow to him.
Feeling her hand on my shoulder, I feel my own drop. Closing my eyes, I can’t close the door quick enough, but Ashlee is right behind me and before I do close it, I hear another familiar voice, which makes Ashlee squeeze past me before I can close the door altogether.
“Mom! What are you doing?” she calls out, and I see her.
Remember her now.
Stacy.
Not just a cleaner. Not just the foster mother of my latest, my only obsession.
I recall the only time something like this ever happened, some twenty odd years ago.
That voice… her face. She’s had some work done, but it all clicks now.
Looks like someone has a longer memory than I do, more of a grudge to bear because I wouldn’t bed her.
“That’s him!” she calls out, making sure she has at least two cameras on her, as well as her own phone recording the whole thing.
“He pushed me out of the house and kept my daughter inside… my only daughter!” she calls out, turning to make sure every rolling camera gets it.
I roll my eyes and shake my head before trying to close the door again, but Ashlee is in the way now. I can’t close it and I don’t want to be seen forcing her back inside.
Not now, not ever.
“C’mon, Ashlee,” I tell her calmly. “I guess I do have something to tell you about.”
But it’s too late.
“He’s done it before, Ash. Has a history of luring young girls into his home… having his way with them and then dumping them like trash… time to come home to momma now. I’m just glad I came back when I did,” she continues, her voice getting higher, and more annoying than ever, despite her efforts to sound reasonable.
I cup my hand under Ashlee’s elbow, gently murmuring I want her back inside.
She looks from me then to her mom again, her foster mom.
Her eyes narrow on me, then widen. Confused.
Her lower lip trembles as more flashes go off as more cameras get closer, the media deciding its open season on Tony Fontana now, judge jury and executioner have spoken.
She slips from my grasp, and without looking back, she runs to Stacy, who hugs her with open arms before shielding her from me with her body, practically dragging Ashlee away from me, away from our home.
Our life together.
I don’t even get to see her face again, just more ugly reporters, grimacing that face they make when they smell blood in the water.
“Mr. Fontana? Have you any comment to make on the claims made today? Are you forcing young women into your home?”
I look at the bat inside the door again, right before I close it.
It takes everything I have, every ounce of control to fight my urge to come out swinging, to extract my own revenge.
But, the years have taught me one thing. A good lawyer and lots of money is the best revenge.
“Sue them all, and sue them for everything they’ve got and more!” That’s the legal advice given to me by my attorney, Max Shubert. I call him before anything else, noticing my own voice shaking as I speak to him.
“They trespassed, they invaded my privacy and they publicly defamed me,” I manage to get out before the doorbell rings.
A quick glance at the security camera shows a team of cops and private security.
“Just come over,” I tell Max, before hanging up.
I take a deep breath, opening the door as it rings again, expecting to see hostile faces but they all look relieved.
“Mr...Mr. Fontana,” The first officer stutters. “We’re all huge fans, and really sorry for this disturbance… how can we help?”
I feel a little smirk of my own play across my face.
Not everybody wants to bring down a celebrity.
Most people actually want to meet me, would do anything just to get a selfie, especially if they know I’m in the right.
I give them the lowdown, and in a minute, the threat of arrest is enough to send most of them scurrying, which unfortunately includes Ashlee, who decides to go with her mom after all.
I make a point of singling out that shit Kane. “He’s the one who broke in, was photographing me through my window,” I tell the nearest security muscle head who makes me look like a ninety pound weakling compared to his enormous size.
He strategically and effortlessly snatches the pricks camera, deleting everything and handing me the memory card for good measure while some cops pretend to look the other way before taking Clayton Kane away for some friendly questioning.
“Sorry again, Mr. Fontana,” repeats the original officer, his own phone in his hand, “Would I be okay if we…?”
“Sure.” I smile, chuckling to myself, holding myself up long enough with all my acting skills for a round of selfies and pats on the back before they leave me to my real feelings.
Leaning back on the door, a dry croak then snarl of rage and regret fills the hallway. I’ve only got one thing on my mind.
Getting Ashlee back.
Bringing her home again.
CHAPTER NINE
Ashlee
I know deep down it's all bull.
To be honest, I only go with Stacy, I only ever call her that when I’m furious with her, because I’m so embarrassed.
Stepping out past Tony, who I know wants me to
