Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“I was just going to call you,” she greets me.
“Why?”
“We hacked Logan’s e-mail.”
“We had his e-mails,” I point out, frowning down the line. “He gave us access.”
“Not to this one. He chose not to give us this one. Any clues why?”
“I fucking knew it.” My lip curls. “He is hiding something.”
“Yes. He received an e-mail two days ago. Unknown IP address and account untraceable. The e-mail was deleted from the server, but I can tell you that it had an attachment.”
I sit up a little in my chair. “What was attached?”
“I can’t confirm that, but the untraceable IP address is ringing alarm bells, as well as the swift deletion from the server. Logan called and confirmed your contract is terminated. I pointed out the photos that arrived by Royal Mail and the ones you found on Camille’s car earlier. He said his personal security team is closing in on the source of the threats. I don’t believe him.”
“Neither do I.” I take a deep breath and recline in my chair, the side of my finger brushing across the stubble of my chin. “The threat’s not gone, but he wants me gone?” I muse, hearing Lucinda hum down the line.
“Seems so. Now why would that be, Jake?”
“No idea.” I cut off her intended line of conversation in its tracks. “Anything on the current wife?”
“Why are you asking me to look into his wife?”
“She’s shifty. I don’t like her.”
“You think everyone is shifty!” She laughs. “But why you think his wife would threaten to harm her stepdaughter is beyond me.”
“Just tell me what you have,” I groan, my frustration building. All these dead ends we keep hitting. There has to be something somewhere that tells me something!
“I have a name for the guy you sent me a picture of. Simon Sanders. He’s Logan’s lawyer. His divorce lawyer.”
“Logan’s wife is having an affair with his divorce lawyer?” I ask, stunned. You couldn’t write this shit.
“Yep. And by the looks of it, it’s been going on for months. E-mails flying between them at a rapid rate. I won’t make you blush and read them to you.”
I laugh, amused. “Keep looking. I’ll call you in the morning.”
I hang up and dial another number. Logan answers swiftly, despite the fact that he’s still undoubtedly entertaining guests at his cheating wife’s birthday garden party. He must have been expecting my call. “Your security guys were quite keen to catch up with me when we left earlier.” I cut straight to the chase.
“Yes, I wanted a private word with you, but you seemed in a bit of a hurry.” There’s an undercurrent of mistrust in his tone, telling me we’re on the same page.
“You pay me to protect your daughter. I didn’t like the intent on their faces.”
“Their intent was to ask you to return for a few moments, so we could have a private conversation. Camille is in no danger from my security team.”
Team? His security is a fucking joke. There could be an army of the fat fuckers. One man with half a brain could outwit them. “Everyone is a danger,” I growl. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Your services are no longer required.”
He says what I knew he would, but rather than hit him with what I know, namely an e-mail account that he has chosen not to share with us, I take a different angle. There’s a reason why he’s keeping that to himself, and I plan on getting to the bottom of it. “So I hear. May I ask why?”
“We’re dealing with it,” he says matter-of-factly, making my skin tingle with anger. The lying bastard. “As I expected, just rivals with a beef. All mouth, no trousers.”
“Names?”
“Probably best I deal with it.”
“Are you willing to risk Cami’s safety based on probably?” I pray he says no, or so help me God, I’ll run back to that fancy fucking mansion of his and gun him down.
“‘Cami’?” He misses everything and homes in on my one mistake.
Shit!
“Since when have you earned the privilege of calling my daughter by a nickname?”
His tone says it all. His impression of me, his disapproval. Bring it on, Logan.
I’m aware I’m talking to her father, but everything I know isn’t making me want to shower him with respect. “Since she asked me to.” I grind the words out. “As long as my subjects’ requests don’t put their life in danger, I’m all for accommodation, Mr. Logan.” I can’t fucking help myself, letting him read between the lines. “I don’t think a simple wish for me to call her by her shortened name is a risk to her life, do you?” I want to add that her name sounds even better when it’s falling from my mouth on a moan of pleasure. When I’m driving my cock into her, firm and deep. I want to. But I don’t. Because that would be vindictive and serve no purpose other than confirming what he thinks he knows.