Page 38 of High-Priority Asset

“I’m following the guy home,” she said, her voice sharp and agitated. “If you want his address and full name, send my payment for the rest of the week now. Then I’m done, after what you did to her.”

He didn’t care for Olga’s tone. Or the implication, no matter how spot-on.

“I didn’t do anything. I’ve been at my brother’s place all day.” Other than the one hour he’d snuck out and used the gardener’s car while Brett covered, telling his family they were in the office discussing business and not to be disturbed.

“Whatever,” Olga snapped. “If you didn’t do it personally, then you hired someone to do it. Either way, you’re responsible. She almost died. I won’t be an accessory to that. Understand?”

“But you already are, and you know it.” Leaving the garden, he walked across the patio adjacent to the pool, where his niece and nephew were frolicking in the water. “That’s why you’re charging me such an exorbitant rate.”

Some restraining orders stated “neither you nor your agent may” blah, blah, but not his. He was within his legal boundaries to hire a private investigator. But Olga knew this wasn’t a situation where he was looking for proof that his girlfriend was cheating or gathering evidence regarding parenting or employability.

Olga spoon-fed his fixation on Isabel every day with updates and pictures and now a video. All the while in the loop that there was a restraining order against him. Chad hadn’t even told Brett about the injunction, but he wanted a PI with loose morals who was willing to turn a blind eye for the right price.

The nerve of her to grow a conscience and get sanctimonious after pocketing his cash for the past six months.

“Send the money or I won’t give you any more information about her new boyfriend,” Olga said, deliberately taunting him. “For the record, Mr. Ellis. You disgust me.”

The line went dead.

Clenching his jaw, Chad sat and reclined back in a chaise beside his brother, facing the pool. He accessed his banking app and wired the final payment to Olga.

Mindy, his sister-in-law, waltzed out of the house and handed him and Brett each a Tom Collins. Then she pranced away in her heels and bikini, flaunting her flawless figure that some cosmetic surgeon had given her.

Why couldn’t Isabel be more like Mindy. Not the plastic body with implants. He liked Isabel all natural, preferred her a bit heavier before she’d started working out. Now she could wear anything she wanted. But Isabel needed to fall in line and meet expectations. Not give him a hard time. It’d only taken Brett two months to break in Mindy and within less than a year they were married and settled in wedded...contentment.

Bliss would be a bit of a stretch. Mindy either didn’t know or simply didn’t say anything about Brett’s philandering and she’d learned to handle his temper, squirreling the children away in their rooms while she took her punishment if she dared violate one of Brett’s rules.

They balanced everything, made it work for their family because they loved each other. For better or worse. Until death do them part.

That’s all he wanted with Isabel. Why couldn’t she see that?

He brought up the message Olga had sent him earlier and played the video.

Watching it, he sipped his drink. The low-class man with garish tattoos had his arms around Isabel, standing next to her car, as they spoke and kissed. Too bad there wasn’t audio on their conversation.

It made little difference. From the lovey-dovey looks of them, Isabel deserved what she was about to get.

She climbed into her car, pulled out of the spot and rolled her window down. The angle and distance was lousy. He couldn’t see the horror on her face, the panic in her eyes that she surely must’ve felt.

Damn it.

Then her car crashed into a telephone pole.

That was pleasantly unexpected. As Isabel was crawling from her Maserati, debilitated, face grotesquely swollen, Olga was on the move, drawing closer. The man left Isabel and ran toward her car. To fetch her EpiPen no doubt.

Honestly, Chad was a little shocked by the speed of her reaction to the bee venom. She’d been stung once when she was a child. After doing research, he’d learned that allergic reactions could be more severe in adults and in subsequent exposures.

On the screen, Olga lowered beside Isabel, the frame of the video zooming in on her face that had turned into a hideous mask. Not only was her face painfully swollen but her cheeks were drooping at the same time and her eyes were a glassy mix of agony and fear.

Holy—That was the money shot.

Chad chuckled at Isabel’s monstrous image, the sound of her wheezing sending a thrill through him.

You brought this on yourself, babe.

Never should’ve gone out with that man. Chad bet lover boy would stay away from her until she was looking her best, which should take a day or two.

“Do I want to know what you’re watching?” Brett asked.