Page 69 of Twisted Knight

“Watch out, someone might claim you talk too much,” he jokes. When I don’t respond, he presses his luck with a third question. “Are you planning on buying that property, then? Scaring people off until they lower the price so then you pull the trigger?”

“No. Just making sure no one else does.”

“Hmpf.” Judgmental silence he’d never dare put a voice to. He knows where my proverbial bodies are hidden. He knows I wouldn’t hesitate to put his there either. “Whatever you say, boss.”

“Exactly. Whatever I say.”

I wouldn’t give Rhett or Chad a dime of my money to bail them out. And I’ll make sure no one else does. A loan default. An impending repossession. A life’s savings gone.

More like an entire family trust gone.

Can’t imagine what that would do to the reputation—aside from the private family shitstorm—of two of Westmore’s most prestigious families.

“What about the campaign stuff? Am I touching that or leaving it alone?” he asks.

“Keep whoever you have on the staff there. I need to stay in the know on promises made behind the scenes.”

“You think he’s running to forge shit about the WillowBend property, don’t you? Get on the council to fix his fuckup.”

“Yes,” I say in a quiet, even tone. “I do.”

“Last thing,” he says. “You saw the attempted firewall breach on your personal server the other night?”

“I did.” Someone’s fingerprints were all over my firewall. Amateur at best but still fucking there. No doubt it leads back to Rhett somehow. The fucker is rich enough to try to buy an ugly painting, but too broke to hire a good hacker. Fucking par for the course, but it never should have gotten that far in the first place. “You took care of it?”

“I’m sitting back and watching, waiting to see if they leave more of a digital trail.”

“If that digital trail makes it past my defenses, Bob, I’m not going to be a happy man.”

“So you’re telling me to, what—”

“Shut it the fuck down. Plant malware in their hard drive. I don’t fucking care but get it stopped.”

“Yes, sir.”

I end the conversation and steeple my fingers as I watch Chad point a heated finger at Rhett. Then Rhett waves a hand at him before he stalks away and toward one of the warehouses.

Trouble in paradise.

Perfect.

Why are they trying to get into my shit? That was an amusing—and admirable—surprise the other night. But the question is why? Do they doubt me? Was it just a private firm they hired to investigate me and make sure I’m kosher? Were they trying to figure out how someone is ruining their plans at every fucking turn?

Go ahead and look, assholes.

You’re not going to find what you’re looking for. Only what I want to give you.

I take pride in the slump of Rhett’s shoulders as he stares after where Chad just disappeared.

Poor fucking baby.

Time to tackle the first set of notes from my team on the due diligence for the purchase. I expect there to be a whole lot of red flags from shit Rhett’s tried to hide. Red flags that most purchasers would use to devalue the company and have a reason to lower the purchase price.

For me on the other hand, they just provide more leverage to hold over the fucker’s head. Making his life miserable is my new hobby.

I’m about a quarter of the way through the first report with eyebrows raised and head shaking when a pair of footsteps come through my door.

I glance at my computer and note the time. Thirty minutes since she pulled in the parking lot to come see me. That took longer than expected.