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She was going to give me heirs. Stability. Peace of mind from my mother.
And most importantly, help me fulfill my promise to Dad.
Mom pushed her plate away, losing patience. “Zachary, are you even listening?”
I snapped out of my reverie, setting my wine glass down. “Always.”
She stood, her plate still full, her tea untouched.
“Wrap this thing up with Eileen Yang.” She slung her bag over her shoulder. “She’s a good girl. Don’t you dare tarnish her reputation.”
Mom stormed out, leaving me with my oblivious aunt.
“Are you going to eat that skewer?” Ayi pointed at my plate with her chopsticks. “I’m on a carb-less diet these days.”
She’d just had a dumpling, but the last thing I wanted was to engage in a conversation with her.
“Sure.” I stood, buttoning my blazer. “Go ahead.”
At three-thirty, I strolled into one of my conference rooms. I’d scheduled the meeting a half hour before I asked Farrow to show up on purpose.
I didn’t want her to see this next part.
The minute I entered, everybody rose from their seats. Two estate and trust litigators—Dan Harlow and Bryan Di Pietro, the best in the area. My own lawyer on retainer—Deanne Tibon. And a private investigator—Tom Coates.
They sat in a row on one side of the oval table.
I unbuttoned my blazer and claimed the head seat without shaking anyone’s hand. Farrow aside, I still found most humans distasteful.
“So?” Bryan peered around the room, frowning. “What was so serious that you made us come together as a force?”
“And made me cut my vacation in Barbados short.” Deanne reclined in her chair, rolling her neck. She was in her mid-sixties and dying to retire. In fact, I was the only client she’d kept. “Are you finally taking over Walmart?”
“Not quite.”But also not out of the question. I laced my fingers together. “I have a task for you. Failure is not an option.” I stared them down, taking my time. “No dime will be spared, no stone left unturned. By all means necessary, the four of you will win this case or face banishment from your industry of expertise.”
Tom whistled. “Strong words.”
Deanne knotted her arms over her chest. “Not for me.Iwantto retire.”
“What is it, then?” Bryan unclipped his briefcase, fishing out a notepad. “What do you want us to do?”
I pressed a button on the intercom, summoning Natalie, who dished out pre-prepared folders. “I want you to drop everything you’re working on and focus on this task.”
If they ruined this, I’d ruin them.
Simple as that.
The mangled sheet of paper buried in the front pocket of my slacks burned a hole into it.
I could practically feel it scorching through the fabric, searing my skin.
“For fuck’s sake, this place is such a drag.” Oliver breezed past the glass counters of the boutique jewelry shop, stopping in front of an antique emerald necklace that must have cost a cool ten mil. Thick glass barricaded it. “Why does all jewelry look the same?” He released a provocative yawn, his burgundy suit sewn to his body, all swagger. “It’s bland.”
“What more do you need?” Rom chuckled, leaning forward and squinting at a pair of earrings he was one-hundred percent going to buy for his wife. “A cock-shaped bracelet?”
“For instance.” Oliver shrugged. “A little diversity wouldn’t hurt.”
He drummed his fingers over the display glass, surveying the luxurious jewelry store. Tiny, exclusive, and only open by appointment.
