Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Why are you doing this?! That’s all it takes for you to flush your self-respect and reputation down the toilet? Throw some money at the coin whore, and he’ll beat up an innocent man and steal from a client!”
Rage snapped his calm. “Don’t speak about things you don’t understand. Self-respect and a good reputation don’t pay my wife’s medical bills or send my daughters to college. Ellis was contacted weeks ago by a Sheriff Davidson. He told him that Jack Sharpe was in possession of Abigail de Souza’s will, and the deed to Bedlam that she willed her granddaughters.
“The man was on vacation, so now was the time to search his home and find where he hid it.”
“Double-dealing sack of shit,” Cairo growled.
I could not have said it better. I felt twice as uncaring about his death as I did a minute before.
“I searched his place. Cracked his safe. But I found nothing. In the end, I bugged the house in hopes that when he came back, I’d overhear him mention a cabin, a storage facility, a friend—anywhere he might’ve stashed it. That worked out so much better than I can believe.”
I inched to the side, giving Cairo a clear path. “Congratulations, you’re a successful thief. But it’s over now, Gold. I’m not letting you walk out of here. Whatever leverage you think you have over Jack Sharpe is worthless. That same recording makes it clear he was under duress. A psychopath that’s killed before threatened his son. They’ll be lenient.”
“He’ll still lose his job. His credibility will be worthless. Your boyfriends will go right back in a cell.”
“My old man is due for retirement, and prison can be character-building,” Cairo returned. “Hand it over.”
Gold backed away—my deed hovering dangerously close to the flame. His cool was definitely gone. Henry’s eyes darted back and forth, looking for an escape.
“Just give it to me and it can all end here.” I tried. “There’s nothing Steven Ellis can do with that deed. I signed his contract as Rainey de Souza. That’s not who I am. It’s all void. He should’ve told you it was over.”
“Oh no, Ivy. Nothing is over. Don’t you understand?” he hissed. “Steven Ellis has all this property that he now knows doesn’t belong to the false government of a fake town called Bedlam, and when this deed is gone... it won’t belong to you either.”
My spine slackened, rocking me on my heels. “No... But you can’t—”
“I can and I will— Don’t move, Sharpe! You’d be shocked how quickly old paper like this goes up.”
Cairo stopped his advance, snarling.
“Why are you doing this!” Years of pain and frustration exploded from the pit in my throat. “This is my land. My inheritance. You have no right to take it from me!”
“You have no right to claim it! I heard what you said on that bug about making everyone who wronged you pay. You’re thinking like a selfish child. You don’t understand the weight of the choices that must be made. Bedlam is a home now. People raise their children there. They attend university there. With one piece of paper, you could wipe that all away in the name of greed, revenge, and claiming a fortune that’s too big for one mentally deranged young woman to have.”
I jerked like he slapped me.
“Let Ellis bring in his bulldozers. Let the mayor fight back. And let those mature enough to decide the future of Bedlam step in and make the right choice for the people, because that person”—Gold set the deed alight—“is not you.”
“No!” Cairo and I shouted.
Cairo tackled him, sending them both flying back into the bedroom. The burning deed soared out of his hand, landing on an area rug where the fire greedily consumed it. I dove after it.
A hand shot out and seized my ankle. Gold yanked me back, dropping me face-first on the hardwood. Pain jarred my jaw.
“Get off her!”
“Oomph,” Gold gasped. The grip on me loosened.
I scrambled to the deed—the last of my family’s legacy. The only thing my Gran had left in the world to give me. And frantically slapped the flames, uncaring of the heat and flames scorching my palm.
Sobbing, I lifted the charred scraps of parchment... and watched it crumble in my hands.
The deed was gone. It was over.