“Who’s acting?” I growl, sliding my hands around her waist. “You owe me something, and I want it. The longer you keep me waiting, the harder you’ll pay.”
The way her eyes light up, it almost seems she takes that as an incentive.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m in the back of the Bentley, and Leo is driving me into the city. His gaze keeps catching mine as I stare fucking daggers at him in the rearview mirror, still pondering that shit-covered stick.
Fucker.
I stretch my neck and hear it pop. Meanwhile, Leo sticks his finger in his shirt collar.
My phone buzzes, and Lachlan’s name lights up on the screen.
“It’s a little early for you,” I say, not bothering with a greeting.
“Not even.” His response sounds happier than normal. “How’s marriage treating you?”
“That’s what you called for? A little voyeurism?”
“Well, yes, if you must know. Color me intrigued when my client insists on tying huge sums into a prenup for a marriage that’s supposed to be all business.”
“What do you want, Lachlan?” I bite out, not interested in his digging expedition.
“Apart from knowing if she was worth it?”
“Watch your fucking mouth.”
My lawyer falls quiet, and I know I’ve made my point.
“Well, I have good news. I’ve just heard from the brief of your least favorite person.”
“Dennison’s lawyer called?” I sit straighter as my chest tightens. What the fuck is Daisy's daddy dearest up to now?
“Yup, first thing this morning. But what’s even more interesting than that call was the one I got last night from the private investigator we’ve had on him.”
“Yeah?”
“Guess who he’s been banging.”
“I don’t fucking care.”
“Oh yes, you do. Who’s been the biggest pain in your arse in this whole thing?”
I make a point of glancing Leo’s way, though it’s Lachlan who has my attention. “The social worker?” My tone is incredulous—there hadn’t been one whiff of impropriety. At least until now.
“One and the same. Little Miss The-Rights-of-the-Father-and-the-Child,” he says, pitching his voice higher, “has been fucking with us all along. Fucking us over while fucking that deadbeat.”
“So what do we do with that?”
“We could go to her employer. The courts. Ruin her career, put him on his guard.”
“Would it change anything?”
“I suppose that would depend on who we were assigned next. I’m sure they’d be very careful, but there’s every chance Dennison could twist it. Allot the blame to her. Say he didn’t do anything wrong. And technically…”
“We wouldn’t be able to disprove it.”
“We only have proof of her misconduct.”
“Don’t tell me there’s no way you can spin this. That’s not what you get paid for, Lochy.”
