Ri holds the gun on him to my head. “We walk out together or she leaves dead. Decide.”
Grayson squeezes my hand and I snap back to the present to find him staring at me. And I swear the concern in his green eyes meeting mine is all it takes for me to push past a weak moment. I cover his hand with mine, silently telling him that I’m okay. And I am. I’m alive. I’m here with him. Ri doesn’t get to screw that up for either of us.
Fired up, I focus on Reese. “The FBI and DA need to take this hammer off of Grayson. Blake obviously feels they might come after him or we wouldn’t be sitting here with you.”
“Blake’s being cautious,” Reese assures me, motioning for Blake to join us. “As he should be. Frankly, I’m of the opinion the FBI and DA won’t be stupid enough to come after Grayson. Grayson could sue—would sue—and would win. I’m more concerned about a different type of attack. Something that hits Grayson financially, or personally.”
An attack that’s financial or personal. Those words hit hard. I turn to Grayson. “I’m the personal attack, I get that. What could they do to you financially?”
“I’ve taken precautions,” Grayson assures me. “Shifted my portfolio, layered up different types of insurance.”
Blake pulls up a seat. “Eric and I are working through any and every way Grayson could be targeted.”
Frustration takes root. “My God, can’t the FBI just take down this underground group?”
“They’re as slippery as the snakes they are,” Blake replies. “The attorney holding the payout Ri promised those snakes is another story. The right move is to arrest him and freeze the money. No money, no group.”
“Then what are we waiting on?” I ask. “Why aren’t we already making that happen?”
“For starters,” Blake says, “this doesn’t erase any residual damage to Grayson or his operation that might be discovered later. The FBI and the DA already know what’s happening, and they’re sitting back and observing for now. I need to pressure them to stop sucking their thumbs and make this arrest. That means setting up a meeting that needs to include your legal counsel.”
“I’m in,” Reese replies, glancing at Grayson. “Cat will get you a client agreement this afternoon. That is if that’s what you want?”
“All-in,” Grayson replies, but his focus is instantly back on Blake. “You said for starters,” he repeats. “What else is holding you back on this?”
“I don’t want to fuck you in the process of trying to stop these assholes from fucking you. Everything isn’t online and documented with technology. There could be another method of payment or a backup source of payment. If there is, we could trigger a rapid attack. It’s like cutting a wire on a bomb. If you cut the wrong one, you blow the hell up.”
Grayson’s hand tightens over mine. “Then where does that leave us?”
“The attorney in question, Brian Johnson, is attending a party tonight. I’m having a team search his house and office, but even if it’s clean, even if we find nothing we don’t already have—”
“You can’t eliminate all risks,” Grayson supplies and he doesn’t hesitate to add, “Take the risk. Pressure the DA and the FBI. Make this happen. I need this over with.”
Chapter sixty-eight
Grayson
Take the risk.
I’m all about calculated, well-researched risk-taking, but as Blake leaves Mia and me with Cat and Reese to act on that risk, it feels more like a Vegas gamble. I’m not a Vegas gambler.
“This feels like the right move,” Mia murmurs as he departs, “but I still think I could use a drink I can’t handle once we get home.”
And just like that, Mia charms the moment into something lighter and the tension around the table fades into laughter.
The rest of the lunch, we relax into the conversation, as best as I can relax under these circumstances, but through our meal, I decide that I’m impressed with Reese Summer. If I could buy out his firm and bring him on board, I’d do it in a heartbeat and not because he needs me to grow and thrive. Because he’s one of the good guys and good guys need to align.
He and I talk about his firm, his partner, and the stock markets while Mia and Cat fall into their own deep conversation, an obvious connection between the two. Watching Mia just be Mia is a piece of my life that was sadly empty when we wereapart. Her laugh charms me. Her smile heats my blood. Her presence calms me in ways I was never truly calm before her or apart from her.
She’s in the middle of a sentence when her gaze lifts to the TV to her right and mounted to the ceiling. The entire table’s attention follows hers to the image of a woman, with a subtitle under her photo that reads:Wife of billionaire claims self-defense in his murder.
Mia sets her fork down and sighs. “Nothing like your client on the TV to ruin a meal.”
“Delaney Wittmore is your client?” Cat asks, glancing at Reese. “She’s her client.” Excitement lifts her voice and she turns back to Mia. “Mia, I had no idea. I’m intrigued by this case. I’m interested in following the trial in my column. When does the trial start?”
“Four months,” Mia says. “But right before this Ri mess, I submitted to have the judge removed, so I don’t know how that will play out.”
“That’s a big move,” Reese comments. “Why?”