Page 28 of Unwillingly His

LUCIAN

“Mr. Manwarring, this is Augustus from?—”

“Is it done?” I barked into the phone.

I needed to know how much longer I had to wait.

She was fast becoming an obsession. I was impatient to get my hands on her again, and maybe a few other body parts.

“Yes, sir,” the man on the other end said, no doubt picking up on my limited patience. “She left ten minutes ago. Her room has been cleared, and the transfer came through just a moment ago. Her bill is paid in full.”

“Good.” I slammed the phone back into its cradle and turned my attention back to the spreadsheets in front of me.

Something was wrong.

Deiderich was wealthy.

Everyone knew that, but looking at his wealth, all clearly labeled in ordered cells showing money flowing in and out, he had more money than he should. Even with his little princess living full-time at one of the most expensive hotels in the world with round-the-clock medical care, spending nearly six figures a month, there was more money coming in than going out.

That wouldn’t be unusual, except for his untimely death.

His assets should have been frozen. The lawyers and accountants were still dividing everything up.

Only a portion of the estate should have been available to his daughter, with his businesses bringing in less after his death, not more. The stocks in his own company should have plummeted after his death, especially with no heir apparent. Even if just temporarily, it would have been normal for there to be some flux.

There was nothing, no signs of anything slowing down or taking any kind of dive. His assets were as strong as ever, even growing, which was not possible.

Something very… unethical had to be fueling this.

Maybe Deiderich was more of a man than I thought.

I sat back in my chair and stared at the numbers, trying to figure out what the fuck Deiderich had gotten himself into.

Was he part of some shady underground dealings? Maybe running with the morally depraved rich and their sick little islands? Deiderich certainly had the money and influence, but he didn’t seem like the type.

He didn’t seem skeevy enough for underage girls and blow.

Maybe he ran his own outfit, using his legitimate businesses to traffic weapons or drugs.

That didn’t fit either.

I couldn’t see him interacting with the lower classes to sell such merchandise, but it was still a possibility. It wasn’t like true drug kingpins dealt with the sellers and buyers of illicit goods.

God knows I never did.

But that still didn’t feel right.

He was too white-collar for something like that, but that didn’t make sense either. Most white-collar crimes that would bring in that kind of money would end with his death. He wouldn’t still be making that kind of money with insider trading, corporate espionage, or stock manipulation.

He was dirty.

Looking at these numbers, there was no other explanation.

I just couldn’t figure out how.

Luc would have been able to figure it out, but if it was something below board, I didn’t want him to know.

Not until I figured out if it was something I could do instead.

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