Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
***
Tyler and I ride into work together, and I’m immediately pulled to my office for a studio call. When it’s over, Tyler’s obsession with the will is back on my mind and drives me to take actions and try to help. I pull up company records and then call Hawk Senior’s retired secretary, Claire, hoping she can offer insight into where we might find an important document her old boss left behind. “Tyler’s mother threw out almost everything of his father’s,” I explain “There’s a document that’s missing we really need for litigation. Do you know where he might have kept personal items that I might recover?”
“That his wife wouldn’t be able to get to? Probably his private club, the Brook Club, but the police most likely cleared out his locker long before now. I told them about it, too.”
It’s not the news I’m hoping for, but at some point, surely Tyler can claim anything the police confiscated. Or not. The man did commit murder.
When I hang up with Claire, I dial Tyler. “Your dad had a locker at the Brook Club. Did you know that?”
He appears in my doorway with his phone in hand. We both disconnect and he shuts the door. “How do you know that?”
“I called his old assistant and told her we were looking for a document that is missing pertaining to a litigation. But she also said she told the police about it, so it might be gone.” I glance at my watch. “I’m meeting a client at the bookstore to review a contract over coffee. I need to go.” I grab my purse and round the desk and stop in front of him. “Withers has to know the truth about all the gotcha plans your father has for you, Tyler. Why not force him to tell you?”
“How?”
“You’re resourceful. Figure it out. I know you can. I’ll be back soon.”
He walks me to the elevator, but he’s clearly distracted and barely vocal, still wrapped up in this problem and I have a sense of a storm cloud hovering over us, on the verge of a tornado. I’m suddenly extremely happy we’re headed to my father’s rescheduled race this weekend. Tyler needs that break I begged him to take and this trip will force that on him.
I kiss him goodbye, wave as the elevator closes, but not before I spy one last glance at the man I love’s haunted eyes, the lines of his handsome face pulled tight.
This has to end. I have to do something to help make that happen.
I just don’t know what.
A few minutes later, I step onto the sidewalk, rushing to my meeting. I’m halfway there when a tall, good-looking Black man in an extremely expensive suit steps in my path.
“Hello, Bella,” he says, a hint of perhaps a British accent in his deep voice.
I blink. “Do I know you?”
He lifts his jacket and displays a weapon. “No. But you’re about to know me quite well. I’m going to need you to come with me.”
***
Tyler
I’ve barely stepped back into my office after walking Bella to the elevator when one of the partners appears in my doorway. “We’d like to talk to you, Tyler.”
“Who is we?”
“The partners. We’re in the conference room.”
This is not good, I think, and despite Gavin’s recent good behavior, I can’t help but think he’s somehow involved. One thing is for sure, I’m not following this asshole ordering me around like he actually has that right or like a puppy who can be taught commands. I cannot. “I’ll be right there,” I say.
He hesitates and doesn’t seem to know what to do because he’s no man at all. And anyone who thinks they have balls enough to cross me, won’t have any when I’m done with them. I stand up and walk to the conference room to find every single partner at the table. None of them will exist when I’m done with them. I step to the head of the table and sit down.
“What is this about?”
“We’d like to talk about your father’s will.” This from the little bitch who thought he was a brave leader when he came and fetched me from my office. He won’t be brave when I’m done with him.
Chapter One
Bella
I’m remarkably calm for a woman who’s just now coming to grips with the fact that I’m standing in downtown Nashville, not two blocks from Hawk Legal, while apparently being abducted. The fact that my potential captor is a refined, good-looking Black man in a ridiculously expensive suit, who speaks with what sounds like an English accent, pretty much tells me all I need to know.
He’s a professional, and for some reason, I’m allowing that to translate to him being just another attorney or agent, but he’s not one of us. He’s probably not an attorney at all. His job isn’t legal or literary. It’s criminal.