Page 139 of The Rebel Billionaire

I glance up as he laughs.

“Oh, brother, you clearly have it bad.”

I frown.

“You’re looking for excuses not to like her,” he says, shooting me a smug grin. “How’s that going for you?”

“It’s not,” I say, running a hand down my face. “You’re no fucking use,” I grumble.

“I’m just stating the facts. You know, it’s okay to like her. There doesn’t have to be something sinister going on in the background just because she knows our mother.”

“How many more times? Nothing is going on between Brooke and me,” I say.

“The gentleman, in your case, doth protest too much, methinks,” he says with an enormous grin.

“You’re fucking quoting Shakespeare at me.”

“Hamlet, to be precise, but yes.”

I roll my eyes and groan. After the fashion weeks are over, maybe I’ll speak to Mother, see what’s going on with my PA.

CHAPTER 40

HARPER

“Harps… Sis, are you still there?” I can hear the panic in Eli’s voice.

At least I’m at home for this phone call.

“I’m here,” I say, lowering the fist I’ve been pressing against my mouth to prevent… I really don’t know what.

I lean hard against the kitchen counter. The beans I’m heating hiss as they stick to the pan. I shove it to one side, my muscles going weak.

“Harps, talk to us. Shit, I knew this was a bad idea,” Elijah says. I know he’s speaking to Mum and Pen.

I stumble over to the sofa and drop onto it, resting my elbows on my knees.

“I’m okay, Eli,” I say, even though the crushing feeling in my chest tells me otherwise, because I can hear his growing panic.

Pull on your big girl pants, Harper Frazer. What would Dad say?

But that’s it. Dad’s not here. He hasn’t been for over seven years. A tragic accident, or so we thought. Now, as a coldness expands in my core and bile hits the back of my throat, we’re being told it wasn’t a tragic accident at all.

“Okay,” I admit, my voice quivering, “I’m not fine or okay. You’ve just called me and…said Dad’s accident wasn’t an accident. That someone murdered him, the same person who is after me, I take it?”

Goosebumps form all over my body, and I clamp my jaw shut to stop my teeth chattering.

“Harper, listen to me.” It’s Pen’s voice that breaks through the growing fog. “I need you to listen carefully. Can you do that?”

The way she talks is slow and steady, as if trying to coax a wounded or scared animal. Which, in some ways, I am.

“Yes, Pen,” I say. “I’m listening.”

I focus on the phone in my hand.

“Good. They’ve found more files. Your dad had them hidden. They may contain the missing pieces. A team is working around the clock to go through them. When they’re done, you can come home to us. Repeat what I just said.”

“Files, Dad hidden, missing pieces, around-the-clock team, coming home.”