Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
“It’s not a lie, Sue.”
“Of course, it’s a lie!” I hissed. “There’s no way my mother was blackmailing you. She can’t have been because you told me that the investigators turned up nothing! You’ve never done anything wrong, so how could my mother blackmail you? Huh? Huh!”
Rhodes fell back against the counter, shoulders slumping. The look of him said it all.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I was caught off guard when you brought it up. I’m just so fucking tired of this mistake haunting me!”
“The truth,” I demanded. The ground beef, salt, and pepper were next in the pot. I stabbed more than stirred it as I stared him down. “Now.”
“Okay, okay. This is the truth. When we came up with GloryBoi, we couldn’t get the money we needed to get it off the ground, or pay out the initial winning bets,” he began. “Micah’s parents had no money to give us. Alex’s parents wouldn’t let him have early access to his trust fund, and my family wasn’t going anywhere near a gambling app. Not after what my dad’s addiction did to our family,” he said. “So we heisted a ten-million-dollar diamond necklace, fenced it through some shady contacts I knew courtesy of my dad, and then we invented an anonymous angel investor.”
I blinked. “I beg your pardon? Did you just say heist?”
He cringed. “I did, but I’m using it loosely. I’m Rhodes Newbury of the Chicago Newburys,” he mocked, rolling his eyes. “My name and family connections have gotten me into the wealthiest homes in New York, Lantana, and Chicago. Back when we were at Columbia, I rolled with a particularly douchy group of rich fuck boys.
“We partied at each other’s places every weekend, and there was one guy—Max Thompson—who couldn’t resist bringing out the family jewels while he made a drunken fool of himself. The necklace was just hanging there around his neck while he snored on the pool table,” Rhodes cried. “Micah said we should just take it, and Alex distracted everyone so we could. I was so desperate to make GloryBoi work and save my dad from himself, that I would’ve done anything—and that’s what I did. Anything.”
I nodded slowly, taking it in. “What happened when Thompson woke up and the necklace was gone?”
“He didn’t even realize it was. He was so drunk off his ass, he didn’t remember taking it out of his parents’ room. It was a full three weeks later that anyone noticed it was missing, and in that time so many people had been in and out of that apartment, the police couldn’t pin it on anyone.” He scoffed. “And Thompson for damn sure didn’t tell anyone that he regularly helped himself to the family jewels, so they just put in an insurance claim and moved on.”
“And my mom dug all of this up?” Belief colored my voice. “When not even the police, the Thompsons, or anyone else figured out you three were behind it? Omma magically did.”
He gave me a look. “There was nothing magical about it. Did you forget she sicced a forensic accountant on us? That guy went deep into our finances, and I mean so deep that he hacked us.”
That blew my brows up.
“He dug through everything and uncovered the whole plot.” He pointed. “Somewhere in your mother’s office are old emails where we stupidly spilled the entire thing. It’s true what they say—nothing can be deleted. The internet is forever.”
“I... But...” I hated myself... but I was starting to believe him. “What could she even blackmail you for? What did you have that she wanted?”
Another cringe.
“What?” I snapped. “What did you lie about now?”
“It wasn’t entirely a lie!” he burst out, not bothering to deny it. “When I opened the investment firm, I once again had no money because I donated the buyout payment. So, at the time, I did what your mother suggested and I went to your estate’s lawyer with a business proposal.”
“You can do that?”
He tipped his head. “Apparently, it’s in your father’s will that a portion of the funds can be invested in income-generating opportunities. Whatever keeps the money growing.”
“Is that why the terms are so strict?” I asked—pieces falling into place. “Because you borrowed money from my father’s estate?”
“That’s exactly why,” he replied. “I’ll say this for your dad, he picked the perfect lawyer and executor of his estate. That man is fanatical about protecting your inheritance. The firm has to make the estate a certain profit every year, or he can and will demand the full amount of the investment be paid back.”
“Rhodes!” I half screamed, clapping my hands. “What. Does. This. Have. To. Do. With. Omma!”
“It has to do with her because she initialed next to that penalty right along with me! She’s the one who introduced me to the lawyer. She vouched for me. And she was on the hook with me if the firm went under,” he said. “But she became my not-silent and unwanted partner for a reason. Because the lawyer agreed that in exchange for bringing a successful venture into the estate’s portfolio, she’d receive a ten percent cut of the profits.”