Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
I’d been sent a message from another unknown number. Shit.
“Hey. What’s wrong?” Samantha asked softly as she smoothed the worry lines on my forehead.
I forced an easygoing expression and kissed her nose. “Nothing, baby. But I need to check on a project, so I’m going to make a quick call.”
She didn’t look as though she truly believed me, but she didn’t say anything else when I gently moved her back to her seat and stood. I pointed at Tate and snarled, “If you ever want to play hockey again, you’ll stay over there and keep your hands to yourself.”
He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, and after one more hard look, I stalked into the bedroom at the back of the plane.
Opening my phone, I furrowed my brow as I tapped on the message icon.
Unknown: Break up with the bitch.
My hand clenched as fury shipped through me, but I forced myself to relax my hold so I wouldn’t break the device.
I scrolled through my contacts and tapped the number for Jonah Carrington. He was the owner of one of the largest tech companies in the world and had the best cybersecurity division in existence. One of his subsidiaries, Essex Security, handled all of JB Capital’s holdings.
He ran the company with his eldest son, Tucker, though Jonah was partially retired. But I’d been friends with Tucker since we met in England years ago while he was setting up their European division and I was running our first investment property in another country. So he and Tucker always handled my shit personally.
“James Bardot. What can I do for you?” Jonah asked when he picked up.
“Another one,” I growled as I forwarded him the message.
I’d been receiving random texts like this for the past two weeks. They’d started out as messages of admiration, and since I didn’t want to keep secrets from Samantha, I’d told her about them. She was a little worried, but since I was simply annoyed, she didn’t push me to do anything except ignore them. Then they moved into stalker territory by mentioning my clothes and places I’d been. Samantha started pushing me to tell the police or hire a PI, but it wasn’t until they started pleading with me to break up with Samantha that I finally got Jonah involved. And stopped keeping her in the loop.
The wording of the past two texts indicated that the person was escalating, and I worried they might get dangerous.
“I’m tracing it now. But don’t be surprised if it’s the same result.”
All of the texts had come from different cell numbers, and Jonah had traced them to burner phones that were discarded by the time they found them. Always at one of my properties, which just made me even more angry. This was clearly a game to them.
“No luck finding the person who bought them?”
“They pay in cash, stay away from the cameras, and never go to the same place twice. I’ve got people on it, but sometimes, there’s nothing we can do except wait for them to make a mistake.”
I knew he was right, but I wasn’t exactly rational when it came to Samantha’s safety. “There has to be something we can do about this motherfucker!”
“We could set a trap. Would Samantha—”
“Would Penny?” I snapped, referring to his wife. Jonah had a reputation for being overly possessive and protective of his wife. No fucking way in hell would he ever put her in a situation that might cause her harm.
He was silent for a moment, then growled, “Point made. We’ll come up with something else.”
I stared at my cards, trying to figure out what to do next, but kept getting distracted by Samantha’s mouthwatering scent.
She was drinking hot chocolate and standing with Landon’s wife, Zoe, and my brother Jeremy’s new wife, McKenna—who we were all meeting for the first time. They’d been playing fake fiancée, and the next thing we knew, he’d called to say they were getting married.
McKenna grinned at Zoe over her steaming mug. “Thanks so much for making hot chocolate. This is delicious.”
“You’re welcome.” She took a sip of hers with a hum of satisfaction. “The weather is usually a little warmer this time of year, but at least the sprinkling of snow was a handy excuse to make some delicious hot cocoa.”
McKenna was from California, so she wasn’t used to the Midwest chill like the rest of us.
“You don’t need an excuse.” Landon got up from the poker table and strode over to his wife’s side to brush a kiss against her cheek. “If this is what you want to drink, you can have it every day of the week. Just say the word, baby.”
“C’mon, man. Enough of the lovey-dovey crap. We’re here to play cards, not woo your wife,” Jason grumbled.
Three weeks ago, I’d have reacted exactly like Jason, but I couldn’t blame Landon when I was just as obsessed with his sister. I smiled at my girl as she wandered over to stand next to me.