Page 112 of Billion Dollar Revenge

“I don’t want to see it.”

“But if you don’t get over your fear, that’s what will happen. She’s an intelligent, kind, strong, beautiful woman who deserves a man who loves and trusts her.”

I squeeze my neck, tension building there as I wrestle with what to do.

“Is she someone you want to lose and let someone else marry?”

“No, but?”

“There’s no ‘but.’ It’s either you let her in, or you let her go…forever.”

A life without Chelsea. Her married to someone else? Baring someone else's child. No fucking chance. I curl my fingers into a fist, and I swallow the curse that’s sitting on the tip of my tongue.

Gram gives me a knowing smile. “Don’t let that good woman go, E. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

I sit up straighter. “I won’t, Gram.” And as I say it, I feel it in my bones, the truth of it.

“Make sure you do something special for her.”

“Well, I actually have an idea, but I need you, Mom, Dad, Oliver, Jeremy, and Harvey too.

Her eyes light up, her excitement palpable. “What is it?”

Chapter 32

Chelsea

I’ve been home fora few days, and since I’ve been back, I’ve thrown myself into work.

The grand opening is this Sunday. The food, drinks, and entertainment are organized.

There are still a few finishing touches like artwork and plants to add, but overall, everything is done. My family will fly in early on Sunday, and I can't wait to pick them up. I’ve been sending photos or video calling them as it all comes together. I live for their emojis and excitement.

I’m cooking beef mince on the stove when the doorbell rings.

“Are you expecting anyone?” Summer asks from the living room, throwing the blanket off her legs. She stands abruptly and walks to me.

My eyebrows draw together. “No.”

She opens the door and a small gasp leaves her mouth. “Officers?”

Police? My stomach bottoms out as worst-case scenarios flood my mind. Is my family or Summer’s in trouble? She rarely talks about her parents who are separated and with new partners. Both sets live in New York. She has four step-siblings who she sees at family events and frequently calls, but her work and college hours make visits difficult.

I turn my head to see what’s happening, but I can’t leave the food unattended, so I just listen in.

“I’m Officer Fletcher, and this is Officer Maverick. Are you Miss Macfarlane?”

“No, she’s inside,” Summer replies.

The door creaks open, and heavy footsteps enter. I turn off the burner. My blood pressure rises at the sight of two middle-aged officers stepping into the room.

“Hi, I’m Chelsea Macfarlane,” I say, stepping forward to shake their hands, pretending that I’m not panicking inside.

“Hi, Chelsea. Can we take a seat?” Officer Fletcher asks.

“Sure,” I say, sitting down opposite them.

“Did you want a drink?” Summer asks. At least one of us remembering our manners.

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