Page 70 of Merciless Heir

As much as I hate myself for it, I don’t want to, either.

I take a cab home because the last thing I want is the subway ride of shame. Not that I’m shamed. I just don’t want to deal with looking like yesterday when everyone else is starting their today.

Besides, the sooner I’m home, the sooner I can get stuck into work and the sooner Kingston will be out of my life.

And maybe, just maybe, I’ll take the tiara and whatever else as a souvenir.

Three hours later and I’m exhausted. More exhausted than I’d be if I’d been pounding the pavement hard.

And I really shouldn’t think of the word pounding, as it takes my mind to other activities that could lead to exhaustion. The good kind. The naked, sweaty, depleted kind.

I lean back in my chair and stare at my laptop. It’s not quite dark web that I’m trawling, but it’s through a VPN, and for what I’m looking for I don’t want to go too deep. I need to be where any action might be, in regards to the movement of the tiara.

Me taking the damn thing aside—if I choose to do that—I know I’m on to something about his mom. The whole missing jewel situation doesn’t smell right. I don’t care about police involvement. There are plenty of circumstances where above board things go around official channels.

But the timing…

That’s what’s bothering me.

The final jewel, rumored to be the most intricate, the one worth the most and certainly the one lusted after by collectors, not only appears along with the other Sinclair jewels, but it goes missing in time to fit in to the month before Kingston’s birthday? And to get his slice of the family pie he has to make it appear again?

My involvement with his mother also has me suspicious.

Yes, she’d choose me or someone like me, but she seemed very keen I try and work with him. If he hadn’t hired me himself, would she have thrown me into his path?

If so, for what reason?

I make a mental note of everything.

Well, I need to do something as all my leads and avenues I’ve followed have ended in exactly the same place—nowhere at all.

Sure, there are whispers and rumors that grow stronger, but that’s all they are. People want it, no one is claiming to have it.

But instinct tells me they will. And soon.

Whether that soon will be in time for Kingston’s deadline, I don’t know.

It depends on who has it. And if it was actually stolen.

I’m waiting for Damon to get back to me when he bangs on my door. It has to be Damon because he knows how to get into places and I made sure the security to this building is top notch.

I get up and stomp to the door, throwing it open. “Damon…”

It’s most definitely not Damon. I look up to the unsmiling face of the dark lord himself, Kingston Sinclair.

I don’t know why an inexplicable warmth rushes my veins.

“Is that his name?”

“Who?” I glare at him.

He glares back. “The mythical ex.”

Kingston pushes past me and into my apartment that suddenly feels too small.

“One.” I tick these off on my hand. “He’s not mythical. Two, I’ve said his name before. Three, at least I mentioned I have an ex and you’re all into keeping women like deep, dark secrets. Four, what the hell business is it of yours? And five…are you jealous?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not looking for a relationship, so why would I be jealous?”

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