Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Heat streaked through him as he recalled their conversation. She’d been shocked he’d sent her breakfast. He’d send her so much more if she’d let him. Hell, even if she didn’t. This woman didn’t need to want for anything.
His phone, the private line, rang, and he picked it up without hesitation. “What did you find?”
“Morning to you too, sweetheart.” Eli’s dry tone held far more humor than his own.
“Not in the mood, Eli. Where’s my brother?”
“Haven’t found him yet.”
Livingston scowled.
“Not him, Liv. But I did find his travel plans. He hid them well, considering.”
Livingston spun back to his desk and powered up his computer. “Considering what?”
“He’s doing his best to travel under the radar. No Rhodes jet was used and he didn’t take any route of public transportation.”
“When I find him, I’m putting a fucking LoJack on his goddamn phone.”
A brief chuckle. “I don’t see your brother handling having a locator beacon on his phone for you to find him where or whenever you want.”
“Ask me if I give a fuck.”
“Nope,” he said breezily. “I have no need. Pretty sure I can figure that one out myself. Look, while I said what he didn’t do, looks like what he did do was grab a flight on a small puddle jumper.”
Livingston drilled his index finger onto the enter key of his keyboard but nothing changed, the screen stayed the same. “How? Paid cash for a flight somewhere?”
“Yeah, and I’m working on the who and where now. I’ll hit you up when I’ve got something more. I will find him, Liv. I promise.”
“Thanks, Eli.” He ended the call, no need to say more. Because Eli meant it, the man would find his brother. What hadn’t been said was if he would be dead or alive when the man found him.
Finally getting into his computer, he pulled up his file on Daisy Wentz. He didn’t need to read it, already had it memorized. Daisy L. Wentz, LLC, or how it showed, DLW LLC. The woman was incredible. CFE, a certified fraud examiner, as well as a CPA, certified public accountant. She was in high demand. Glowing reviews about her small, boutique company.
He flicked his gaze back to the security screen on the hallway before her room only to frown. Three men were moving down the hall. Didn’t matter that two were security or not. He didn’t like them going close to her.
Christ, I’m fucking territorial. Give me a few seconds more and I’ll be pissing up and down the hallway as well as in a circle around her.
He shoved his fingers through his hair and exhaled sharply. The door to her suite opened and the three went in. Jealousy ate at him and he’d just kicked his chair back when the intercom buzzed.
“Mr. Livingston, Mr. Shafgans is holding on line one for you.”
“Thank you.” He clicked off of the security feed and rubbed his temples before casting his look across the room to take another glance at the one screen that was running the weather, talking about the massive storm front moving over the Rockies. Correction. Not moving. It had stalled over them.
Winter Storm Ellis was making his presence known in a loud and blatant statement.
Three finger clicks and he had up all of the information on Mr. Roger Shafgans that his private investigator had pulled. Only then did he slip in his earbud and accept the call.
“Mr. Shafgans, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Livingston knew exactly what the man wanted—he longed to be one of the investors of Livingston’s hotel group before they branched out internationally.
That shit ain’t happening.
Like his father, Livingston was ruthless and hungry for more. What he wasn’t was stupid or foolish. He didn’t want to sit on his laurels and do nothing, nor did he. He wanted to build, create his own empire that would dwarf his father’s. Because that bastard deserved nothing less than to be outsmarted by his own children, who’d thumbed their noses at his expectations and had earned their own ways in the world, not caring if he’d withheld their trusts. All three of the brothers had plenty of money. He was the one who invested their money for them and he had made them each a shit-ton.
Hell, he wasn’t even sure if any of his brother’s had touched their trust funds other than the initial money they had given him to invest, which had become theirs by age twenty-five, or if they were still just building interest.
“So, I think this would be a mutually beneficial arrangement for the both of us.”
Livingston leaned back in his executive brown leather chair and looked at the ceiling. He wanted her again. Hell, he’d not stopped wanting her from their night in Seattle, but now that she was here, under the roof of his hotel and casino, his hunger only grew.