Of course.
This is his territory.
People here treat Mr Wardgrave as though he belongs to the royal family.
I’m telling you, he doesn’t.
All I can do is hope my husband never finds out about this and decides once and for all that I’m not worth the trouble.
I can already picture the headlines.
Piper Ashthorne Pronounced Dead at the Scene. Authorities Suspect Domestic Dispute.
A bitter laugh almost escapes me.
Because that’s not what the headlines would say at all.
Not with my husband’s influence.
No.
They’d read something more like…
Piper Ashthorne Tragically Takes Her Own Life. Husband Discovers Heartbreaking Letter.
The grieving husband would receive sympathy, condolences. And nobody would question the bruises covering my body.
And if someone did, enough money would change hands for them to call it suicide anyway.
Chapter 39
Hunter
She’s wound so tight that the food in front of her remains untouched, and the champagne flute hasn’t moved either.
Every few minutes, she scans the restaurant.
Every time a server approaches our table, she flinches.
And I grit my teeth.
Ready to put a hole through a wall.
Just not here.
I am Hunter Wardgrave, heir to Wardgrave Dynamics.
On the outside, I look calm.
Like I don’t give a bloody fuck and everything is exactly as it should be.
But it isn’t.
Because this tiny, red haired menace stole that control from me.
The reason I was so determined to bring Piper to lunch is simple.
The private investigator finally delivered something useful.
