Saving His Blackmailed Lover - Maureen Child Mills & Boon M&B

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the crowd. Wes turned to Isabelle with a look of shock on his face before he turned and shook Teddy’s hand. Cecelia could only smile. Isabelle seemed sweet, but she was shrewd, as well. She had managed to accomplish tonight what Wes had been unable to over the past three months. Bravo. Perhaps she had more competition in the Texas Toy Company than she thought with Isabelle behind the scenes.

      Wes turned back to Isabelle, they kissed and everyone in the club went wild. Deacon held Cecelia tighter to his side as though he sensed tension in her.

      “Is this bad news for your company?” he whispered in her ear. Clearly, he knew it was or he wouldn’t be asking.

      “Perhaps, but I’m trying not to look at it that way. Those kinds of thoughts were what landed me such a miserable reputation in town. That’s a worry for another day. Tonight I’d rather focus on the happy couple.”

      He nodded and pressed a kiss into her temple. “Then that’s what we’re going to do.”

      Cecelia sighed contentedly in his arms while Isabelle and Wes cut the cake and pieces started circulating around the room. “They cut the cake,” she noted. “Cake is the universal sign at parties that it’s finally okay to take your leave.”

      “Are you ready to go so soon?” Deacon asked. “I thought you were having a good time. And it looks like strawberry cake. We should probably at least stick around to have some. I love strawberry cake.”

      “When did you get such a sweet tooth?” Cecelia asked.

      “It started back in high school when I couldn’t get enough of your sugar.”

      Cecelia laughed aloud and leaned close. “You don’t need any cake, then. You’re getting plenty of sugar once we get out of here. You’ve made it through the night with no complaints, and you should be rewarded.”

      Deacon smiled. “I’m glad you agree. It wasn’t that bad, though.” His glance moved around the room at the club and the people who frequented it. “I think I’d made more of this place in my mind because I couldn’t be a part of it.”

      “No one would dare keep you out now.”

      Cecelia felt her phone vibrate in her purse, but she wasn’t going to get it out just yet. As they waited on cake, she noticed quite a few people pulling theirs out.

      “Oh, my God, honey.” Simone ran up to her and clapped her hand over her mouth to hold back a sob.

      Cecelia looked at her and again around the room in sudden panic. One person after another seemed to be looking down at his or her phone. The feeling of dread was hard for Cecelia to suppress. Especially when those same people immediately sought out Cecelia when they looked up.

      Had Maverick’s deadline already come and gone so soon? She had consciously decided not to pay the blackmail money again, but she never dreamed it would come out tonight, while she was at the club with everyone else.

      “What is it?” she asked as innocently as she could, although she already knew the answer.

      Simone held up her phone, showing the screen to her and Deacon. An old newspaper article about the drug overdose of Nicole Wood was there. It even featured the photo of Nicole and her infant daughter, the same one Cecelia carried in her purse. The section was circled in red and accompanied by a note:

      Cecelia Morgan? More like Cecelia Wood—a liar and the daughter of a junkie and her dealer. No wonder the Morgans hid the truth. The homecoming queen isn’t so perfect now, is she?

      Deacon’s arms tightened around Cecelia as she felt her knees start to buckle beneath her. It was only his support that kept her upright. She looked around the room, and it seemed like everyone was looking at her as though she smelled like horse manure.

      Her head started to swim as she heard the voices in the room combine together into a low rumble. She could pick out only pieces of it.

      “Who knew she was so low class?”

      “I should’ve known she wasn’t really a Morgan. But it looks like she’s not Maverick, either.”

      “Her mother probably used drugs during her pregnancy, too. I wonder if that’s why Cecelia is so incapable of empathy.”

      “Have they ever revoked someone’s club membership for fraud?”

      “You can see the resemblance between her and this Nicole woman. She never had Tilly’s classically beautiful features.”

      Cecelia covered her ears with her hands to smother the voices. Her face flushed red, and tears started pouring from her eyes. Deacon said something to her, but she couldn’t hear him. All she could feel was her world crumbling around her. She should’ve made the second blackmail payment. What was she thinking? That he would decide maybe that first payment was enough? That people wouldn’t judge her the way she would’ve judged them not long ago?

      It was a huge mistake, and yet, she knew this was a moment that couldn’t be avoided no matter how much cash she shelled out. It wasn’t about the money, she knew that much. He probably didn’t care if he made a dime in the process. Maverick was set on ruining people’s lives.

      He would be a happy man tonight.

      * * *

      Deacon didn’t know who Maverick was, but he sure as hell was going to find out. Why did this sick bastard get pleasure out of hurting people in the club? Deacon would be the first to admit this wasn’t his favorite crowd of people, but who would stoop that low? If he could get his hands on Maverick right now, the coward would have bigger concerns than whose life he could make miserable next.

      First things first, however. He could see Cecelia breaking down, and it made his chest ache. He had to get her away from this. With every eye in the room on them, he wrapped his arm around Cecelia and tried to guide her to the exit. She stumbled a few times, as though her legs were useless beneath her, so he stopped long enough to scoop her into his arms and carry her out. She didn’t fight his heroics. Instead, she clung desperately to him, burying her face in the lapel of his suit.

      The crowd parted as they made their way to the door. Half the people in the room looked disgusted. Some were in shock. A few more looked worried, probably concerned that their dark secret might be the next exposed by Maverick. There were only a few people in the room who looked at all concerned about Cecelia herself, and that made him almost as angry as he was with the blackmailing bastard that started this mess.

      That was the problem with this town—the cliquish bullshit was ridiculous. It was just as bad in high school as it was now. It made him glad that he’d decided to leave Royal instead of staying in this toxic environment.

      The problem was that most of the people in the town were in the clique, so they didn’t see the issue. It was only the outsiders who suffered by their viper-pit mentality. Deacon had always been an outsider, and money and prestige hadn’t changed that, not really. He’d gotten through the doors of the club tonight, but he still didn’t fit in. And he didn’t want to.

      Yet if he had to bet money on Maverick’s identity, he’d put it on another outsider. Whoever it was was just kicking the hornet’s nest for fun, watching TCC members turn on each other so they would know what it felt like to be him.

      Cecelia didn’t need to be around for the fallout. This entire situation was out of her control, and she would be the one to suffer unnecessarily for it. Brent and Tilly should be here, taking on their share of the club’s disgust for forcing her to live this lie to begin with. If they’d been honest about adopting Cecelia, there would’ve been nothing for Maverick to hold over her head.

      He shoved the heavy oak door open with his foot and carried her out to the end of the portico. There, he settled her back on her feet. “Are you okay to stand?” he asked.

      “Yes,” she said, sniffing and wiping the streams of mascara from her flush cheeks.

      “I’m going to go get my car. Will you be okay?”

      She nodded. Deacon

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