Page 3 of Hale to Pay


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"I just thought of something. How did you two feel about your wives being years younger than you? Was it weird knowing you were a full-grown man when she was a pre-teen?"

"Nope." Oran's emphasis makes the "p" pop. "I had no idea who she was at that age. She was a grown woman primed to take this dick when we officially met."

"I would say the same, but I knew the little bastard as a baby," Jagger strokes his beard as he thinks. “Leaving made it easier to separate the child from the woman. She was a child when I left and a childish ass woman when I returned. I knew dicking her down would shut her up. Fuck. It didn’t matter those fucking assholes made us get married anyway.”

“Why? Are you trying to poach some young unsuspecting woman?”

“Nope,” I lie. “Just making conversation since you two talk about your wives all damn day.”

By the time each of us finished our cigars and had a couple glasses of whiskey, the assholes were itching to hunt down their wives. We filed out of the cigar bar with plans to see each other later. My thoughts return to Imala. If she wants to lay low, I’ll force her out. I smile at a few ladies throwing me assessing looks. They’re pretty but don't hold my attention. The birthday sash thrown across one woman’s body renews Elmer’s idea. I guess it is time for a big party.

Being back on the island lets me enjoy its slower pace. A population of a little over two million people is nothing to sneeze at, but it’s still not crowded and congested. Getting to work never stresses me out. The ocean view from my office cannot be duplicated and it offers a serene backdrop to the bullshit I’m eliminating from Elmer’s reign. He’s one shady asshat. He may try to fight me once I’m done cutting out his bedfellows but it’s necessary for the Hale legacy.

I circle something else that’s inconsistent with moral legal practices. My satisfied hum rolls through the office as I raise my pen and stare at it like a love interest. The solid eighteen-karat gold pen picks up the sunlight and winks at me. We Hales have a lot of money, as do all the founding families, but I don’t have this handcrafted masterpiece for a frivolous display of wealth. I’m a fan of quality items and this pen is art. The way it glides over the paper like a warm knife slicing through butter cannot be achieved from an office supply set.

Damn I love a good pen.

A knock on the door pulls my attention back to work.

“Come in!” I yell. I have yet to find an assistant to do things

the way I like them, so I’m my own damn assistant until then.

Dallas Parker, one of our cyber security guys, walks into the office. He’s about six-feet-two-inches tall, medium built, brown hair, hazel eyes, and he’s always frowning. You’d think he’d be a little more upbeat with what Oran pays these guys to stay on the up and up. He was placed here by Elmer and is one of the very few people who survived Oran’s clean sweep.

“What’s up?” I ask him, back to business.

He folds his body into the visitor’s chair and spreads open the manilla folder he has in front of him. We didn’t tell the employees that we’re rechecking Elmer’s dealings and weeding out the criminals, they just think it’s a company audit.

“Okay, I’ve found several thousand dollars that have come from different accounts to funnel into one dummy corporation. That corporation then disperses to different accounts at the same bank. That is where the trail goes cold, if you are doing it legally, Oran would have to ask his father-in-law for access.”

I sit back in my chair and study Dallas for a beat. There’s something off about his attitude. He’d mentioned Oran like it pains him to say his name. If I had to be dramatic, I’d say he hates him. He doesn’t appear to like me much either. A fraction of my brain wants to know why most of me is busy not giving a fuck. I don’t dwell on how someone feels about me as long as he or she does their job.

Pulling the folder to me, I close it and prepare to dismiss him. “Good work. I’ll pass the message to Oran.”

He stares at me for a beat as if he’s trying to figure something out. His jaw ticking tells me he has something he wants to say. He shakes his head as if thinking better of it, then moves along.

I watch after him for a minute before dropping my attention to the file.

What a strange man.

Chapter Two

Imala

Blue-green eyes hover over me. White clouds float behind him giving him an otherworldly glow. He’s so breathtaking. His pouty lips are curved into a soft smile just for me as his thumb traces my lips.

“You’re so beautiful, Imala,” he confesses in an awestruck whisper. We’re naked and he’s doing everything in his power not to crush me with his weight. “I love you. You’re the only one for me. Forever."

His profession of love pinken my checks and warms my heart.

"Take it," I beg. Wyn's nudity and words are all the excitement I need. "Make me yours."

"I'm honored you want me to be your first." He positions himself at my entrance, my body tingles with anticipation. "Ready to be mine forever?"

I pop up to a sitting position in my bed.

Shit! Third one this week.

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