Page 67 of High Reward

The pattern is becoming clearer. Someone spent months studying Grace, learning her routines, her relationships, her vulnerabilities. That means if it is Kara, she began targeting Grace as soon as her husband committed suicide.

Owen pulls up the financial analysis he’s been running in the background. “Preliminary data supports that theory. Large cash withdrawals over the past six months. Travel to Vegas coinciding with incidents involving Grace.”

The pieces fit. Kara Lindon, grieving widow, blames Grace for her husband’s suicide. Months of planning, professional-grade surveillance, escalating attacks. It lines up in a way that makes my stomach clench.

“But Harper’s overdose,” Luke says. “How does that connect?”

Owen shakes his head. “I’m not sure. Someone tried to delete security footage from whoever came to see Harper at work, so I’m combing through my backups to see if I can figure out what they don’t want us to see. But it’s going to take time. Let’s hope there’s something from the last few days as well.”

I head for the door again, mind racing through possibilities. Kara Lindon targeting Grace through sophisticated malware attacks. Someone inside our system drugging Harper. Multiple threats, multiple betrayals, all converging on the people I care about most. “Find me when you have something useful. I’m going to check on Grace and Lili and ask the doctor for an update on Harper.”

The hallway seems different now, knowing that someone has access to our inner sanctum. It seems less safe keeping everyone here, but moving is just as risky.

The stakes keep climbing, the threats multiplying. Failure isn’t an option. Not when Grace and Lili are counting on me to keep them safe in a world that seems determined to tear us apart.

Chapter 18

Lili

Istepoutofmy suite, muscles still aching from the stitches in my arm. I tried to do some of my yoga earlier, but stretching or putting any kind of weight on the injury hurts too much. The main dungeon of the club is in front of me, dimly lit and heavy with tension. Since we’re closed, it’s got a vastly different vibe from the last couple of times I’ve been in this space.

Tyson sits at a corner table with Sabrina, his hand covering hers. She looks pale and shaken. Grace came and told me whathappened while Victor went into what can only be called a war council with the other owners.

Hunter and Trinity occupy the seating area near the bar. Trinity’s wheelchair is positioned so she can see the entire room, her well-trained eyes taking in every detail. Some people still view her as nothing more than a glorified party planner, but she’s taken over most of Hunter’s private events for VIP guests and high rollers, and it takes next-level attention to detail to be the best at what she does. Hunter hovers nearby, his usual commanding presence softened by worry for his wife.

But it’s Grace who draws my attention immediately.

She paces near the main bar, steps measured but restless. Her arms are wrapped around herself, a defensive posture I’m well acquainted with. Every few seconds, she glances toward the corridor leading to Owen’s office, waiting for Victor to return. The anxiety radiates from her in waves.

I make my way across the room, navigating between tables and conversations. A few people nod as I pass, offering concerned smiles.

“Grace,” I say softly as I approach.

She turns, face lighting up with relief. “Lili. What are you doing up? The doctor said you needed rest.”

“I’m fine. Better than Harper, at least.” I study her face, noting the tight lines around her eyes, the way she’s biting her lower lip. “How are you holding up?”

Grace shrugs, a gesture that tries to be casual but falls short. “Worried about everyone. About what’s happening. About what comes next.”

I reach for her hand, interlacing our fingers. Her skin is cold despite the warmth of the club. “Victor will figure this out. They all will.”

“I know.” But her voice wavers. “It’s just... everything keeps escalating. First the flowers, then my tires, then Trinity gettingshot, and now Harper and the bomb threat. I’m bringing danger to everyone I care about.”

The guilt in her voice makes my chest tight. I’ve wrestled with the same thoughts, the weight of being at the center of violence that could get people I love hurt or killed. “This isn’t your fault, Grace. None of it. Especially not Trinity. That’s connected to me. Your stalker situation started before I came into the picture. Don’t take on burdens that aren’t yours.”

Grace nods, but I can see she’s not convinced. In the brief time I’ve known her, I’ve come to recognize that the tendency to blame herself runs deep, likely carved by years of feeling invisible and unworthy. It’s going to take more than words to heal that wound.

Something shifts in the room’s energy. Conversations pause. Heads turn toward the corridor.

Victor emerges from the back hallway, his presence commanding attention even in the dim lighting. He moves with purpose, but there’s tension in his shoulders, a tightness around his eyes that speaks of bad news or challenging decisions.

I watch as he scans the room, his gaze finding Grace immediately. His expression softens, but only slightly. He approaches us with measured steps, his poker face firmly in place.

“Ladies,” he says, voice warm but controlled. “How are we doing?”

Grace releases my hand and moves toward him. “Better now that you’re here. What did you find out?”

Victor’s hands find her waist, and he pulls her in close, dropping a kiss to her forehead. It’s sweet, and tugs at my heart. “We’re making progress. Owen is working on some technical leads.”