Page 127 of When Hearts Surrender

For?

Maxwell

Accessing and reviewing old autopsy files. I want a fresh set of eyes. Someone who can work off the books. I don’t want this to leak to the press.

Elias

I may know someone. Will contact you soon.

A car honks in the distance jolting me back into the present, and I lean back against the headrest, a headache quickly forming, most likely from the lack of sleep last night.

I loosen my tie, unable to breathe as my driver takes me to Fleur for a meeting to debrief on the financial performance for January. The stock price is still a third lower than what it used to be before my disastrous first press conference, even though the recent headlines are more positive.

Attempting to distract myself, I take out my phone and scroll to Lana’s messages.

Lana

Look at these articles. I’m a genius and you’re welcome. Don’t tell Rex I said that.

Lana

CBCarticle link: “Dramaat Fleur is No Longer?”

Lana

IBCarticle link: “The Frigid King Can’t Make a Speech but He Can Make You Rich.”

Lana

GossipTimeslink: “How to Find a Man Who’ll Protect You Like Maxwell Anderson.”

Rex

I’m trying to figure out if this is a passive-aggressive attempt at gloating, Lana, or if you accidentally sent the messages to the group chatagain.

He’s referring to an incident last year when Lana sent some advice to Ryland regarding Millie but accidentally sent it to everyone under the sun.

Rex

I taught you everything you need to know, Lana. I take credit.

Lana

God spare me from the fragile ego of a rich white man.

My lips twitch at the bickering between the two when the phone rings.

Elias Kent

My pulse quickens.Does he have news for me?

I quickly answer. “Elias?”

“Do you know a Cole Whelan?” His tone is brusque. No nonsense.

“Yes,” I grit out, thinking about the blond bastard I want to punch in the face for having the hots for my wife. Belle mentioned how he asked about Sydney the other day—the bastard had looked into me.

“You’ve never met him before Belle?”

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