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The Copelands look at the paper and then glare at me, hatred intensifying in their eyes, but I have no sympathy for them. If their son had just left me alone, then this wouldn’t be an issue. And I’ll use the money to make sure their grandchild—whose existence they’ll never know about—is taken care of.
When it’s clear I’m not going to back down, they have a whispered conversation between themselves. The men and I wait, still and silent. We’re not in any rush.
Finally, the Copelands turn back to us, and Alexander nods.
“Alright. If this is what it will take to get you out of our lives forever, then we accept your offer.”
I smile at them both, nodding. “Good. I thought you might.”
Vic steps forward then, ready to handle the logistics of the buyout. We brought contracts with us, and he’s prepared with an account number for them to wire the money to. My stomach flutters a little as the wire transfer goes through. The amount is actually a bit less than the total value of Troy’s shares, but instead of being tied up in the company, it’s now cash sitting in our bank account.
It takes a bit of time, and I’m a bit antsy by the time it’s finally all completed, eager to get out of this too bright, too sleek office.
Vic gives me a nod, and I slide the paperwork across the table to the Copelands, then push my chair back and rise.
“I would say it’s a pleasure doing business with you, but that would be a lie,” I tell them bluntly.
With that, I turn and leave, surrounded by my men. As the door closes behind us, I can hear Alexander and Stella arguing in hushed voices, taking out their anger on each other and each pointing the blame at anyone but themselves.
I smirk.Assholes will always be assholes.
We leave the building, striding across the large lobby and then stepping out into the fresh air. As we make our way to the car, I glance over at Ransom to find him grinning broadly. The sight of it is so beautiful and infectious that it makes me grin too, and I nudge him with my shoulder.
“How pissed do you think they’re going to be when the feds come knocking on their door tonight, and they realize we not only took their money but framed them for Olivia’s murder too?” I whisper.
His smile grows impossibly bigger, ruthless glee glinting in his eyes. “Oh, very. On a scale of one to ten? I’d say a million.”
Vic is on my other side, and when I look up at him, he’s not smiling, but he looks incredibly satisfied.
He should. After all, this was his idea. I didn’t know quite what he was doing the night we cleaned up the construction site and dumped the bodies of my grandmother and her guards, but I should’ve known that nothing Vic does is ever an accident. Even then, his mind was racing ahead, setting up the pieces on the board for a checkmate that was still several moves away.
And today, we’ll play that checkmate.
Our original plan was to just let my grandmother spend eternity buried in the foundation of the building, but instead, we’ve decided to use her death to our advantage. It was actually pretty fucking easy to lay a path of breadcrumbs connecting the Copelands to Olivia. They’ve done business together for years—some of it of the decidedly illegal variety—and it was easy to paint a sordid picture of two wealthy families having a falling out over tax fraud schemes and under-the-table deals gone wrong. Along with some evidence that Vic took from the construction site that’s been planted at the Copeland’s residence, we’ve created a slam dunk case for law enforcement.
If all goes well, Alexander and Stella will spend the rest of their lives in jail.
“I only wish I could be there to see them carted off in handcuffs,” Malice mutters under his breath as we reach the car and pile inside.
I understand his sentiment, but honestly, I don’t share it. I never want to see them again, not even for that.
Malice cranks the key in the ignition, and we pull away. Ransom reaches for my hand in the back seat, running his thumb idly over my knuckles as the men talk amongst themselves. Their voices fade into background noise for a bit as I get lost in my thoughts, chewing on my lip and gazing out the window.
Before we take the turn that will lead us back toward the safe house, I glance over at my men. “Can I show you something?”
“Sure, angel. Anything,” Ransom says.
“Okay. We have to go somewhere to see it.”
Malice’s gaze snags mine in the rearview mirror. “What is it?”
“You’ll see.”
Leaning forward a little, I give Malice directions, guiding him to a spot in the city—a place where I found something the other day when I was searching online.
It’s a warehouse, large and sprawling, recently built. And it’s for sale.
We roll to a stop out front, and I open my door quickly, getting out. The men follow, glancing from the warehouse to me.
