Game Of Love Read online Lulu Pratt

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
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“Beatrix, they know who I am.” I said it quietly, as though it was something I had done wrong, but I had been thinking about it the entire time I was with Taylor, and I could not figure out how they had discovered me.

“Shit,” she said. “Well, it isn’t a crime to take a job at a rival firm. And you didn’t look at anything you weren’t permitted access to, did you?”

“Err,” I said, hesitantly.

“Freya?” Beatrix’s tone was suspicious.

“Okay, so I have some files at home. It’s just some internal reports. I didn’t have time to look through them while I was there. I thought maybe we could go over them together, but then there was the Ireland trip.”

“Where are they?” Beatrix asked, suddenly serious.

“At the apartment,” I said, suddenly scared. “On a USB key.”

“Bring it around,” she said. “I don’t think it’s likely they will search you… but bring it here.”

“I’m on my way home, I will bring it tonight,” I said, reaching my bus stop.

“I will make dinner,” she said, softer now. “And I don’t think Mom and Dad need to know anything more than the fact that Keegan has been arrested and you have given up the fake job, okay?”

“Yeah,” I agreed, glad to let her make the decision for me.

There was something quite pathetic about sobbing on the bus on the way home, but one thing was for sure, it guaranteed that nobody sat beside you. I sat alone and looked out at the rain, wishing myself a thousand miles away, and then remembering that Keegan had told me there were three thousand miles between Dublin and Boston.

Chapter 35

KEEGAN

IT STRUCK ME AS I sat in the cold square room that I had never been in an American police station, and it was exactly like it was on TV. Everything was sort of echoey and gray. I’d been in plenty of them back in Ireland, and they were a lot different – smaller, less threatening. As I mused over the differences, my lawyer argued with the police officer. It was the same argument that they had been having over and over for an hour, with each of them stepping out to make phone calls or talk to colleagues and leaving me sitting there. I felt strangely uninvolved in the whole process. Like a child whose parents were arguing over custody. This was a different kind of custody, though. I’d been asked the same questions time and time again, mostly about my financial accounts, and as time went on, I felt a rising sense of panic. I clearly wasn’t giving them the answers they wanted.

After six hours, I was allowed to leave, and given some ‘advice’ not to leave the state, to remain contactable, and continue to seek legal advice. I nodded, and my lawyer gave me a particularly unsympathetic look as we left. He said he would be in touch, and disappeared. So much for the best that money could buy. I wondered what he knew that I didn’t. I thought back to when they had taken me in for questioning and how Sean had tried to stop them, claiming I had done nothing wrong, patting me on the shoulder as I went, reassuring me he would send the lawyer. I took out my phone and called him.

“Sean?”

“Keegan!” he sounded surprised to hear my voice. “Are you out?”

“For now,” I grimaced. “What the fuck is going on? What happened while I was gone?”

“They wanted to see your files. They had a warrant, but nobody told me anything. Dad is flying over.”

“Great,” I said. That was all I needed. “Look, Sean, if you know anything about this, you’ve got to tell me. I have no idea what is going on.”

“All I know is that they spent a lot of time in your office, and that it has something to do with Effie – or rather, Freya – not being who she said she was,” he said, too casually, like he knew this was going to have an impact.

“What?” I asked, my heart thumping. “Say that again.”

“She was a… mole, I think they call it. A phony. Her family owns Dynasty Games. She was here to infiltrate the company. They are accusing us of intellectual property theft, or copyright infringement, or whatever other trumped-up charges they can get to stick,” he said flatly.

“Nah,” I laughed nervously. “That can’t be true.”

“Ask her. It was all a scam,” he said. “And either you have been up to no good, or she has set you up, but either way, looks like you are basically fucked, mate.”

“They are talking about theft of intellectual property, as well as skimming money. I could be in a lot of trouble, Sean, you’ve got to help me out here…” I was desperate, and as much as it hurt my pride to beg him, I had no other option.



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