No wonder she’d noticed the bruise on Franco’s forehead earlier, along with a few other marks on his face. Thinking back to that half-joking comment Hans made, was it possible he’d actually gotten into a fight with Franco?
Before Hans could say a word, Jay looked at Petty and gave her a subtle nod, confirming that Laura was telling the truth.
Laura didn’t even spare Hans a glance. “Petty, I know Hans is doing this for you, but Hassan is already gone. Can’t we just let the past stay in the past? Or do you need my brother’s corpse to show up at your door and apologize before you’re satisfied?”
Petty’s expression stayed icy. “Don’t go there. The man just died. I’d rather not say something I can’t take back.”
“You all keep saying Hans crashed his car into Franco’s. There are dozens of cars on the street. Why would Hans hit Franco’s and not anyone else’s?”
That kind of victim-blaming always made Petty’s skin crawl. She was a journalist, and she prided herself on being fair, never picking sides at work.
But seeing Laura standing there, acting like she had some special status with Franco, looking down on everyone, just got under her skin.
Petty caught Franco’s cold stare out of the corner of her eye and felt her breath catch. “If Hans really did that, then Franco must’ve deserved it.”
“Hans is so well-behaved.”
That, of course, made Hans grin.
When Petty first asked if he’d hit Franco’s car, Hans hadn’t looked even a little guilty. He acted like he’d already won, like he knew she wouldn’t blame him for any of it.
He trusted her, and he was right. Instead of scolding him, she actually praised him.
That kind of unspoken understanding between them was almost too much for everyone else to watch.
Franco took off his glasses and put them away slowly. There was something strange flickering in his dark eyes. “Petty, don’t forget, we’re still married.”
Petty felt a sharp ache in her chest. “Didn’t Galen give you the papers?”

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