Page 155 of Forbidden Game

This family is too affectionate.

I give Parker a stern look before pointedly cutting into my own little pie and taking a bite. Flavors burst along my tongue. The tartness of the dried fruits mixes with the sweetness of the sugary filling, all brought together with the flaky pastry.

Damn, it is good.

I immediately cut another bite, enjoying myself in the moment.

“I think she likes it,” Pricilla whispers to Parker.

“I agree,” he whispers back.

I give him a side kick under the table with my heel, and he laughs.

The staff clears our plates when we finish, and Parker’s grandfather stands up almost instantly, inclining his head to Parker.

“Can I have a word with you?”

A quite hush falls over the table.

“Oh, Philip, do you need to do this now?” his wife laments, patting him on the hand.

“It’s important.”

“We’re all family; can’t you chat with me here?” Parker leans farther back in his chair.

My senses go on alert, recognizing the telltale signs. Parker’s up to something.

Philip’s eyes narrow, assessing his grandson. I think he might put up a fight, but he sits back down.

“I had our lawyer begin the paperwork to transfer your shares yesterday,” he starts.

“Working quickly, I see.” Parker grabs his cup of tea and takes a sip.

Yeah, he’s definitely up to something.

My eyes dart around the table, reading the family’s concerned looks. Except Phoebe, whose suspicious blue gaze is sternly fixed on Parker, and Paige, who is trying to hide a small smile behind her wine glass.

“Yes, but they ran into an issue.”

When Parker doesn’t say anything, his grandfather’s gaze narrows even further, the wrinkles around his face becoming more prominent.

“They couldn’t find them.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate, now, isn’t it?” Parker hums.

“Oh, Parker,” Patrick Covington sighs at his son. “What did you do?”

“My shares were an heir’s share, so I gave them to the heir.” He shrugs.

There is a soft snick, and we all turn our attention to Paige, who opens her purse and pulls out an envelope. She holds the creamy white paper out to her older sister.

Shock ripples over Phoebe’s normally calculating features.

“The fuck is this?” she breathes.

“Phoebe Anne,” Pricilla chastises. “Language, please.”

Phoebe snatches the envelope and rips it open. She shuffles through the pieces of paper, her eyes widening.

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