“Who that, Daddy?” Molly asks.
I press a kiss to her head, keeping her from seeing the tears that are seconds away from racing down my cheeks.
She didn’t even look at her.
Molly’s own fucking mother didn’t even look at her once after that money dropped into her account.
She walked away without a glance back.
“No one, Sweetheart,” I choke, squeezing my eyes shut and sinking my nose into her hair to breathe her in.
“It was no one.”
The night creeps by, painstakingly slowly knowing that Natasha is nearby. She checked in at The Lanceford. That much I know after asking them to inform me once she had. After a call to my father, he placed Jenson on surveillance. Natasha went out, as I expected her to, getting more drunk and leeching off some random guy she met. But she returned to The Lanceford alone, and I told Jenson to stand down until midday. Natasha will be too wasted to surface before that, and even if she does, the hotel will inform me when she checks out.
I’ll be able to breathe again once I know she’s caught her flight and left for good.
I close Molly’s bedroom door quietly after checking on her. She’s slept later this morning. I’ll have to wake her soon to get ready. Sinclair’s expecting her at her place after breakfast. And Denver will be with them. I can trust Molly will be safe with them. Natasha won’t be back now she got what she came for.
I gave her two million reasons to walk away. Something she did far too easily for a mother who claims to care about her daughter.
Fucking disgusting.
Flicking the coffee machine on I brace my arms on the countertop and roll my neck side to side in an attempt to ease the knotted muscles. I’m used to running on little to no sleep.Today will be no different. And tonight I can go to bed knowing that Natasha will be out of our lives.
Maybe I’ll even sleep well.
The buzzer goes and I walk to the security panel.
“Mr. Beaufort?” the concierge greets. “There are some members of the NYPD here who want to speak with you.”
“Detective Field,” a gravelly voice that sounds like its owner hasn’t slept either cuts in. “And Officer Jones. It’s an urgent matter, Mr. Beaufort. Your cooperation here, and not at the precinct, would be appreciated.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
“Of course,” I reply. “Come on up.”
I let go of the speaker button.
Fuck.
What the hell do they want at this time of the morning? I grab my phone from the kitchen counter and check it. There’s a text from Sinclair telling me she can’t wait to see Molly, and an email from my father with some business news article Uncle Mal sent to him that he thinks I should read.
My family is fine, so why are they here?
Tate…
My blood turns cold, and I storm to the door, yanking it open as a suited detective and uniformed officer step off the elevator. They head toward me with matching stony expressions.
“Mr. Beaufort,” the detective greets, extending a hand. “I’m Detective Field, this is Officer Jones.”
“What’s happened? Is she okay?” I clench his hand a little too hard as my heart races.
His eyes pinch at the corners, his mouth flattening into a grim line. “Can we come in?”
Not an answer.What the hell’s going on?
I step back, granting them both entry. I lead them into the living area before spinning to face them.
