Page 35 of My Bossy Billionaire Attorney

“It doesn’t hurt to have one more set of eyes looking at the evidence,” I shrug. “But you can only help if you agree to play bymy rules. One step out of place, and you won’t see me again until you take your last breath.” I tell her firmly.

She nods eagerly, flying across the office to wrap her arms around me. The contact, because it’s familiar, feels comforting for a second. Then I remember what she did, and I push her away.

“Don’t,” I say sternly. “Don’t ever do that again. We’re not friends.”

“Oh,” her voice is somber. “I’m sorry. I know. I shouldn’t have done that. I apologize.”

I exhale loudly, scrubbing my face.

“I don’t want to argue with you. If you want to help me, find out what happened to Brandon, then I’ll need you to answer a couple of questions.”

Alice’s head bobs.

“Anything.”

I point to a chair. “Sit.”

She quickly sits.

“What do you want to know?” Alice asks.

“I never met any of Brandon’s friends because he didn’t believe in mixing business and pleasure or whatever bullshit excuse he gave me at the time. I want to know, did you know his friends?” I ask.

She nods timidly.

My fingers curl into fists, digging into my palm. It feels tender, but I keep on digging because it’s either my palms suffer, or she gets the brunt of my anger.

At having loved—or cared—for someone only to find out that they shared their life with someone else, rather than me.

“Okay?” I ask.

“You want to know which of his friends I met?” Alice asks.

I cross my arms and ask. “You think he was murdered, don’t you?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you or are you not certain?” I ask sharply.

It takes a minute, but the tone in which I ask the question echoes in my head. And I realize one startling thing,I sound like Michael Stone.

In his cold, emotionally detached way.

But she deserves it, right? I mean, she slept with Brandon. She…betrayed me. I’m the nice guy for allowing her to sit in my presence.

I tilt my chin stubbornly. If I have to be like Michael, then so be it.

“So? Alice? We don’t have all day.”

“I think so? I mean, the cops. They don’t want to say anything. His neighbors say that the only reason they found his body was because of a water leak. There’s a problem with the plumbing in his apartment, which I asked him to fix several times,so someone called the building superintendent.”

“He was the guy who found the body. But he said he didn’t do anything to it. He just saw it and ran and went to call the cops. Then they told everyone to leave,” she explains.

“That’s why nobody knows what happened to him. But I think…I suspect.”

I frown.

The detective conveniently left that part out, didn’t she? To trap me?

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