Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“Thank you,” I say, my voice filled with gratitude. “I really appreciate it.”
Before we can dive any deeper, there’s a knock at the door. The sound echoes through the house, pulling us all from the conversation.
“That’ll be my brother,” Greer says, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she hurries toward the front of the house, her anticipation almost contagious.
Devereaux. He always has a larger-than-life presence, and as soon as he steps through the door, it’s clear nothing has changed. He’s dressed in his usual effortlessly cool style—a leather jacket slung over his broad shoulders, jeans that seem tailored just for him, and an aura of control that commands attention without him having to say a word. In his hand, he’s carrying an infant car seat, his son, Devereaux Jr., nestled inside, sound asleep under a soft, blue blanket.
Greer immediately wraps her arms around him, pulling him into a warm hug. “Where’s Chloe?” she asks, glancing around, expecting to see his other half following behind.
Devereaux's face hardens slightly, his jaw tightening. “She’s at the station. There’s been a murder downtown,” he says, his voice low but steady, the weight of the words hanging in the air.
The kitchen falls silent, the lighthearted mood shattered by the unexpected news. I feel the tension creep up my spine, a cold shock settling over the room as we all process what he just said.
“A murder?” Greer asks, her voice barely above a whisper, disbelief clouding her expression.
“Who?” Ledger steps forward, his arms crossed, eyes narrowing as he studies his brother.
“Gregory Saunders,” Devereaux replies, setting the infant seat gently on the floor and glancing at us. “Never heard of him before today, but apparently, he’s some high-profile accountant tied to the Delgados—or so the word at the station says.”
A murmur of recognition ripples through the room. Posey, who had quietly entered the kitchen moments earlier, nods, her usually soft features tightening with memory. “I remember him. Bane used to meet with him all the time.” She walks toward the counter, her arms crossed over her chest, a hint of unease in her voice.
My mind races as I glance between them, the pieces slowly clicking together. The Delgados. The name alone drips with power and danger—everyone in town knows to tread carefully around them.
I need to talk to Benedict. His voice echoes in my mind, the way he had casually mentioned the name to me just hours ago, as if it were nothing more than a passing thought. Now, Gregory Saunders is dead, and the coincidence sends a shiver down my spine.
Panic swells in my chest as I try desperately to remember where I’ve heard the name before. My mind is a fog, racing through fragments of conversations, faces, and memories, but nothing clicks fast enough. My heart pounds louder with each second as I grab my phone, fingers trembling as I type "Gregory Saunders" into the search bar.
The screen flashes, loading images of a brown-haired man, his eyes sharp behind wire-rimmed glasses. He’s impeccably dressed in every picture, the kind of man who wears tailored suits as effortlessly as most people wear jeans. My breath catches in my throat, and my fingers freeze over the screen as recognition slams into me.
Yes. I remember him.
The room spins as memories flood back—dinners with my ex-husband, business meetings where Saunders’ name was mentioned in passing. He wasn’t just some random accountant; he worked for my ex-husband. I’d seen him before, sitting across from us at sleek restaurant tables, quietly discussing numbers and contracts over expensive wine. I can picture his reserved demeanor, the way he always kept his cards close, his loyalty to my ex unquestionable.
The realization hits like a punch to the gut. My ex-husband, Benedict, the church, and now this murder—it’s all connected. But how? Why now?
I swallow hard, my thoughts a jumbled mess of fear and confusion. This is bigger than I realized, and suddenly, I’m in over my head.
Chapter 19
Benedict
The club is packed with the usual contenders on Tuesday night. There’s a mix of regulars and newcomers, all vying for attention and a good time. The lights flash in a mesmerizing rhythm, casting vivid colors across the room, and the bass of the music thrums slowly through my system, vibrating in my chest.
The news of Gregory Saunders murder came at a shock to me. Now more than ever we need information on the Delgado crime family.
Because I’m sure they’re the ones behind his murder, and now I fear for Eva’s safety more than ever.
I’m on high alert, scanning the sea of faces and moving bodies. My nerves are on edge, mainly because I haven’t seen Eva since the moment she rushed out of my office, her expression a whirlwind of shock and confusion.
My eyes dart from one end of the club to the other, searching desperately for her familiar face in the crowd. I need to find her. I need to apologize and make things right. The weight of my words hangs heavily in the air, and I can't shake the feeling that I might have driven her away for good.