“My dad screwed high-end escorts and had mistresses my mother knew about. He would never fuck a whore he found on a street corner. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around this.”
Carter nodded in agreement. “Before Alanna Maxwell turned to drugs, she worked as an executive assistant at Verity Corp.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That’s interesting.”
Fifteen years ago, Verity Corp was Battle Industries’ top competitor. My dad hated the CEO and worked around the clock to put them out of business.
Their stock crashed after a scandal destroyed investors’ faith in the tech conglomerate. My father bought every available share, making himself the majority owner. Then, he dismantled the company and fired its employees.
I tossed the folder onto the desk and groaned. “Do you think she was trading insider knowledge of their tech for drug money?”
“It’s possible. Alanna Maxwell was the CEO’s assistant for ten years. She didn’t turn to drugs until after she got laid off and her boss committed suicide. There were rumors she was having an affair with him.”
“Do you have proof?”
“No, but while employed, she lived in a luxury apartment that cost more than her yearly salary.”
I opened the dossier and read Cater’s detailed report on Alanna Maxwell. She was once a beautiful woman. Long caramel-colored hair and big blue eyes. A straight nose and perfect white teeth.
Olivia inherited her mother’s looks and brains. Before working at Verity Corp, Alanna graduated with honors from Columbia University.
“My dad wasn’t paying her much if she had to turn tricks,” I said to state the obvious. “I feel like he’s doing this to fuck with me. What if this is a game? A final fuck you from the grave?”
Carter released a sigh. “I hope not.”
“It’s something he would do.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Unfortunately.”
I slid a bank statement across the desk and pointed at the highlighted numbers. “Do you have any idea what he did with the cash?”
“No. Dick didn’t leave a paper trail. You know what he was like. He stashed money all over the house.”
My family’s home had secret passages, hidden drawers, safes, and an underground vault. If my father needed cash to pay off a hooker for information, he didn’t need to withdraw money from a bank.
“Alanna died from a heroin overdose.” I focused on the police report in my hand. “Her kids were in the apartment. Tate called the police.”
I felt an instant connection to Tate and Olivia. We had very different upbringings but so much in common. Death never got easier. Not even after I joined The Devil’s Knights. My initiation into the secret society was supposed to break me, to make me impervious to all the trauma they inflicted. But I remembered the faces of every man I killed.
“Poor kids,” I said. “Unfortunately, I know what it’s like to watch someone die.”
Carter folded his hands in his lap. “Your father was a good man.”
I laughed. “No, he wasn’t. Most people hated him. He was an asshole.”
My private investigator pursed his lips.
“It’s okay. I know what people thought of him. Imagine what it was like being raised by that monster.”
“I’ll continue digging into Olivia and Tate’s backgrounds to see if I can find a link to your father.” Carter closed his briefcase and rose from the chair. “So far, I have found no payments from your family’s accounts to their mother or anyone in their family.”
“What about the foster parents?”
“No. They can barely make ends meet.”
I opened my drawer and pulled out the letter from my dad. “This makes no sense. He refused to give money to charities. I never saw him perform a good deed. My father had no heart, no soul. Making money was the only thing that fueled him.”
Carter glanced around my office, his gaze drifting to the wall of glass overlooking the city. Battle Industries towered over the surrounding skyscrapers. My dad once told me that Battles were literally on top of the world—and we would stay that way. God forbid I disgrace him or the family legacy.
