Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“Holy fuck, that’s Amelie’s last name. Is this her ex-husband? I kind of need more details, boss.” No fucking kidding. I’m going to have to lay it all out now.
“Not her ex-husband. He’s Amelie’s father. The same piece of shit who tried to sell me the property I wanted. He came in, said a few choice words, and rocked their world. Cops have been called, but who the fuck knows how long it will take for them to actually show up. The call should be in the database. I’ll have Ezra hack in to have it on file. He’s been fighting Amelie’s mom, Isabelle, for nearly a year now, which makes no damn sense. Adultery was involved, so you tell me what you think is really going on. Louisiana isn’t a no-fault state in the way of a spouse cheating on the other. The way I see it, Noah Boudreaux has something on the judge, and her lawyer isn’t the pit bull mine is.” I take a breath and run my hand through my hair, hearing Sly type away on his computer. He’s taking notes, always is. You can tell him the most intricate story, and he’ll type the cliffs, come up with a strategy and executes it with little to no delay. “Either way, pull whatever strings you have, get this shit as well as the purchase of the building locked and loaded. Then work on the shit stain of my own father. Mom making a play at the same time my dad disowns me publicly speaks volumes now that I think about it.”
“I’ll grab the transcript from dispatch now. Ezra doesn’t need to hack into their database and potentially get caught. I’ve got someone on my staff who used to work with all those three-letter agencies. She’ll be in and out, all doors closed without anyone the wiser. I won’t be able to use it in court, but it’s something to hold over a head should we need to use that piece of information. As for the other stuff, I’ll be down there first thing tomorrow morning. There’s a lot I can do from my office, but this I can’t. Plus, it’d be nice to see the look on their faces when I slam them with evidence.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m going to make sure Amelie and Isabelle are alright, then set up a call with the others. Thanks again, Sly,” I respond. He’s probably got a whole slew of other clients who consume his time. Sylvester taking a day away from the office and courtroom means a lot, even if it’s coming with a fat-as-fuck bill.
“You got it. Go take care of your girl. I’ll text you tomorrow on my way to the Inn.”
“Sounds good. Later.”
“Later, boss.” We hang up. I pocket my phone and walk to where Amelie and her mother are standing. Both look like they’ve been put through the wringer with small smiles on their faces and color in Amelie’s cheeks.
“Everyone okay?” I ask. My hand lingers on Amelie’s lower back. Her warmth settles me, her scent intoxicates me, and Christ, her presence grounds me.
“Yeah, Mom was telling me that I need to make our child be a boy. She’s spoiled a girl before, and it would be better not to have a girl; they take your beauty, your clothes, and your makeup. Plus, you have to worry about boys sniffing around your teenage daughter.” A growl leaves my throat. I’ve yet to think about the future too far in advance. First things first. Get my house situated, get Amelie moved in, marry her, and then deal with things as they come. But, fuck, now I’m here hoping she has a boy, too, where before I couldn’t have cared less.
“Make sure you give me a boy first. The second child can be a girl. I’m going to need as many men around if our daughter is half as beautiful as her mother,” I grumble. If we’re living down here, my brothers won’t be here to help me stand guard either. Shit, I’m going to get an ulcer from worry now.
“Awe, that’s so sweet,” Isa swoons. Amelie rolls her eyes.
“I’m pretty sure I don’t get the choice in the making of a boy or a girl,” my woman states.
“You could have twins; they run on you grandmothers’ side, who is my mom. Maybe it skipped a generation?” Amelie groans, her head tipping back hitting me in the chest. This woman and her penchant for hitting her head against any object available.
“Hush, take it back. Don’t you say it again. Tell her, Boston, two babies at once, oh my gosh, it’s like you’re asking for me to have saggy baggy’s and a stretched vagina.” Amelie spins around. “Tell her, tell her right now. You don’t understand. If you don’t, she’ll manifest it, every single day until it happens.”