“That’s right. My little big brother,” Eloïse said, her voice dripping with disdain as she spat out the words. “Don’t think this has anything to do with me worrying about whether you’re right for him or if you should choose him over Bastian. Do whatever you want. I came here because of this.”
She reached into her purse and pulled out a thick bundle of cash. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it onto the floor by my feet. I bent down and picked it up. Twenty-pound notes, well-bound with a blue ribbon, the crisp edges catching the light.
There had to be… what? One hundred thousand pounds? I could tell just by looking. In fact, I knew this particular stack all too well. It had been mine.
It was the money Gina had lost at Club Montari.
The words came out of my mouth before I could stop to think.
“Why did you have this?” I didn’t know if my anger was because Eloïse had stolen the money from my friend or because she was returning it to me just hours before the deadline, when I had already thought it was lost.
Eloïse tilted her head, resting her hands on her hips.
“I’d like to know that myself. How did that money end up with Gina?”
“I gave it to her.”
“I know that already, stupid bitch. How did it get toyou?”
With each word she spoke, it was clear that Eloïse’s patiencewas wearing thin. But mine was, too. I didn’t have the time to deal with inflated egos.
“I have no idea.”
“Don’t play dumb,” she said, stepping closer. Her tone was calm, but there was an edge to it. I knew it damn well, too. Determination, thirst for control. “It was him, wasn’t it?”
“Him?”
Her face loomed inches from mine; her gaze was a sharp blade, carving its way into my soul like a wraith ready to devour.
“Enzo. You’re his friend’s lawyer.”
I took a step back.
No, I had already been through this. Ialreadyknew that he and Julian Garros were friends… And that there was no way Enzo had been the one to give me the money.
I released a deep breath. Clear mind. I had to confront Eloïse. My suspicions were aimed at her; I had overheard her conversation with Larousse. I didn’t care what she might tell me about Enzo. It could be resentment. Jealousy…
No, not jealousy; we had already ruled that out.
And not resentment either. Eloïse wasn’t that type of person. I knew she wasn’t.
“What you’re saying doesn’t make sense,” I murmured, in a pathetic attempt to convince myself that it didn’t.
Eloïse moved away. She laughed again, a much more sinister sound than before. Then, she hit the wall with her hand. I flinched.
“You’re his friend’s lawyer,” she repeated. “I don’t know how it happened, but he did it. He stole the money and gave it to you.”
The look she gave me chilled me to the bone. There itwas. Eloïse Hawtrey-Moore wasn’t the type of woman to be jealous of others or to hold grudges against her loved ones. She was the type of woman who would do anything for her family. For her name. For her status. And…
Chapter 30
Another officer enters the room where I’ve been recounting my side of the story for hours.
“Wait. Stop there, Vera,” she announces, arms crossed.
I pause mid-sentence.
She gestures for Officer John Alonso to leave, and both of them disappear through the door. I’m left alone with Officer Horseface and my boss. No one says a word, but she rubs her face with her hands.
