Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
He had practically fawned over me, without breaking that distinct, professional distance people in the service industry maintained at all times.
Everything from back then was fuzzy, at best, but I remembered him guiding me to a chair in the lobby and sitting me down so carefully. I had a cup of the most amazing chamomile tea brought to me while he called my family’s money manager to arrange payment and had housekeeping arrange one of the long-stay suites.
He even had the house doctor go over the care instructions the hospital had given me. The doctor was so sweet, taking all my medications, verifying the doses, and having them delivered when it was time for them, with either water or food, depending on the medication.
The doctor had a counselor come in and hold grief counseling sessions in the comfort of my room so I didn’t feel alone while I healed.
Augustus even had the kitchen prepare my favorite meals—meals that were designed to help me heal—a perfect blend of comfort foods and nutrition.
Now, I was being kicked to the curb with nowhere to go. That didn’t make sense.
“My card was never on file,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Augustus.
“No, ma’am.”
“The bill had always been sent to my family estate and handled with a very generous gratuity.”
“In the past, that was how it worked,” he confirmed. “And your family’s generosity has never gone unnoticed.”
“What changed? The money manager is the same. You called yourself to ensure there would not be an issue with payment. Are you worried that I won’t be as generous? Is that why you’ve come banging on my door before I even had my coffee?” My words and tone were far harsher than I had intended. But it was what it was.
I was cold, tired, and still reeling from yesterday’s embarrassment, and today’s indignation added more than I could handle.
“Ma’am.” Augustus’s eyes hardened as he looked at me directly. Apparently I had crossed some line, and I was no longer entitled to the faux feeling of privacy. “It is quite simple. I received a call this morning. The funds for this room are no longer available. You have ten minutes to pack your things, and then security will be up to escort you from the building. With or without your belongings.”
“Who called you? They were lying.” I stomped my foot like a petulant child and was immediately embarrassed.
My mother and I would have mocked someone who was behaving how I was.
She would be ashamed of me.
“The call was made by your trustee, Mr. Manwarring. He informed us none of your extravagant lifestyle will continue to be covered. He did ask that I relay a message.”
“What’s the message?” I bit out.
My blood pressure was rising, and my hands balled into fists as more cold tears built behind my eyes.
He cleared his throat. “You were a bad girl for not asking him for permission.”
With that, Augustus looked down his nose at me in disgust, turned on his heel, and walked away.
CHAPTER 13
LUCIAN
“Mr. Manwarring, this is Augustus from—”
“Is it done?” I barked into the phone.
I needed to know how much longer I had to wait.
She was fast becoming an obsession. I was impatient to get my hands on her again, and maybe a few other body parts.
“Yes, sir,” the man on the other end said, no doubt picking up on my limited patience. “She left ten minutes ago. Her room has been cleared, and the transfer came through just a moment ago. Her bill is paid in full.”
“Good.” I slammed the phone back into its cradle and turned my attention back to the spreadsheets in front of me.
Something was wrong.
Deiderich was wealthy.
Everyone knew that, but looking at his wealth, all clearly labeled in ordered cells showing money flowing in and out, he had more money than he should. Even with his little princess living full-time at one of the most expensive hotels in the world with round-the-clock medical care, spending nearly six figures a month, there was more money coming in than going out.
That wouldn’t be unusual, except for his untimely death.
His assets should have been frozen. The lawyers and accountants were still dividing everything up.
Only a portion of the estate should have been available to his daughter, with his businesses bringing in less after his death, not more. The stocks in his own company should have plummeted after his death, especially with no heir apparent. Even if just temporarily, it would have been normal for there to be some flux.
There was nothing, no signs of anything slowing down or taking any kind of dive. His assets were as strong as ever, even growing, which was not possible.
Something very… unethical had to be fueling this.
Maybe Deiderich was more of a man than I thought.
I sat back in my chair and stared at the numbers, trying to figure out what the fuck Deiderich had gotten himself into.