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“Did you find anything out?” I asked in a hushed tone.

She nodded and then replied, “I did, and trust me when I say you’ll be happy to hear it.”

With a smile, I lifted my chin a little higher and walked into my office, the same office that used to be my father’s. Marge shut the door behind her and held up a large envelope.

“What’s that?” I asked, making my way to my chair and sitting. Marge took a seat in one of the large leather chairs on the other side of my desk. I’d kept all of my father’s office furniture. At the time, it had felt like the right thing to do. One of these days I would change it … well, that was if I stayed on as CEO.

“I was right. The cameras I found in here are indeed working and recording everything.”

I let out the breath I held. “Thank God.” Since the first day I set foot in this office, I swore someone was watching me. Marge waved off my concern at first, thinking I was feeling the presence of my dead father instead.

“He’s here guiding you, sweetheart,” she would say every time I mentioned it. Then she stumbled upon one of the cameras and showed me. It didn’t take us long to find three more. I had a strange feeling there might even be more.

Marge smiled. “Once I figured out who your father would have trusted with the videos, it didn’t take me long to track them down. His name is Dustin Greene.”

I was momentarily stunned when I heard the name. “Did you say … Dustin Greene?”

She nodded. “Yes, his father owned the security company monitoring the cameras and he recently retired, giving control over to his eldest son.”

I could feel my body begin to sweat. Blake’s brother owned the company who had the security tapes from my father’s office. Holy hell. Did my father know?

“Do they do the security for the rest of the office?” I asked.

Marge frowned. “No, that’s why it took me so long to figure out who was monitoring it. The bill came across your desk in your father’s name about a week ago. The moment I saw it, I remembered it was the one piece of mail your father never let me open.”

“Why was my father having his office …”

My voice trailed off, and I looked around. “Is it still recording everything?” I asked in a hushed voice.

She chuckled. “Yes.”

“Well, shit.” I dropped back into my oversized, leather office chair and sighed. “I need to figure out if I still want that.”

Marge lifted a brow. As if telling me there was a reason my father had to have recording devices in his office.

Note to self: Don’t ever have sex in this office with Tucker. Or pick my nose. Or do anything else I don’t want people to see.

My mind quickly went back to all the times I sat in this office on this side of the desk and on the opposite side. Why wouldn’t my father have told me about the cameras? Why wouldn’t he have told anyone? Even Marge.

“I’m not understanding why my father felt the need to have his conversations recorded and then kept private.”

Her brow lifted. “Maybe he knew something you didn’t. But I’m not surprised. You grandfather had them in his office as well.”

A slow smile spread over my face. “Maybe. But if we can find the conversation where he told Ricker to change that ridiculous marriage clause, maybe I can get this moving along faster than we had thought.”

“Do you still want to keep this between us?”

Leaning back in the chair, I nodded. “Yes. Not even Mitchell needs to know this bit of information.”

Marge nodded.

My eyes traveled to the envelope again. “What’s in there?” I asked. “The cameras were installed seven years ago, recently updated right before your parents were killed.”

My mouth dropped open. “What!”

She nodded. “I went back and looked at the board meeting notes and noted when Mr. Ricker said he spoke to your father about the clause. I asked Mr. Greene for that entire year, six before and six months after.”

“Looks like we have some videos to watch,” I grumbled.

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