Page 63 of Boss's Fake Wife


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Chase was already expecting me. When I got there, he was leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette.

“Call a meeting,” I instructed, and this time, he nodded without giving me shit about how he was the boss around here. It wasn’t the time for egos to get in the way.

Something was going down, and if there was a rat in The Brotherhood, they needed to be called out and eliminated before they caused more problems for all of us.

Right now, no one could be trusted.

I sat and waited as, one by one, all the men in the compound filed into the large meeting room. They glanced at me out of the corners of their eyes, mostly surprised to see me there. I knew some of them thought I didn’t belong as I had been distancing myself from The Brotherhood. Some thought I didn’t deserve to be here as I hadn’t gone as deep into their crime world as I should have. And some sided with my father and thought I never should have been born. They thought I had killed my mother.

But I didn’t care.

If any of them were messing with me, I would destroy them.

“I think, so far, I’ve been very lenient with you all.” I stared them down, meeting each of their eyes. “But my leniency has a limit.”

None of them gave any impression that they knew what the fuck I was talking about, so I continued talking, “Today, a very important cufflink belonging to me was found on the murdered body of a man I didn’t kill, so what do you have to say to me?”

Low grumbling echoed throughout the room as they looked at each other and then back at me.

“Are you accusing us of something?” someone voiced.

“Names,” I said. “I need names of anyone who has an issue with me, anyone who’s ever said shit about me. Anyone who looks suspicious.”

They still looked doubtful.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I won’t shoot the messenger.”

No one said anything for the longest time. But I already knew they wouldn’t. This wasn’t necessarily about getting them to confess. It was more about seeing their reactions to what I was saying.

If any of them indicated satisfaction with my frustration, I would know I got the person.

“Last week, J said you style your hair funny,” someone quipped after about a minute of silence.

“You’re a damn liar, Red,” J responded. “You were the one who was talking shit about his fancy shoes.”

“I did not,” Red, one of the younger recruits, sounded indignant. Some laughter sounded throughout the room, and I smiled too.

“Good,” I said. “Glad you were all able to bare your grievances, but at the same time, I want you all to know that if you do anything again, I will kill you.”

At those words, all traces of humor disappeared from the room. I nodded, glad I’d made my point. And with that, I left.

* * *

I finally headed home,apprehensive of what I had to do. I knew I would have to tell Emily about the murder. I didn’t want her to hear it from one of her cop buddies and jump to the wrong conclusion.

But I needed to say it in the right way so as not to freak her out. She was just coming out of her shell around me. I didn’t want to make her suspicious again.

However, the minute I opened the front door, she rushed out of the room toward me, speaking very fast.

“Someone is trying to frame you,” she said in one breath.

“Slow down,” I said to her. “What are you saying?”

“A murder,” she explained after taking a deep breath. “There has been another one, and Angel told me they found your cufflinks there. I think someone is trying to frame you. We have to do something.”

“I know that,” I said with a bemused frown. “But how do you know I’m being framed? How do you know I didn’t do it?”

She blinked at me, looking torn. “Did you?”

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