Page 36 of My Bossy Billionaire Attorney

“Is something wrong?” Alice asks.

“Nothing,” I quickly respond. “We’re dealing with murder. Do you think anyone had a vendetta against Brandon?”

Alice stays quiet.

“Alice?”

“From what I know, he was well-liked. Everyone wanted to be around him. He was charismatic. I mean, that’s why you fell for him, right?” Alice gently reminds me.

Right, I think to myself with venom and regret. When we met, he was charming, and the event we were at sucked, and he was fun enough to divert my attention. Then, I was pressured to agree to marry him.

And everything went downhill from there.

“I don’t know if anyone would want to hurt Brandon, not even the people he went up against in court. He had a way of settling things amicably, making it feel as if both parties had some sort of win.” Alice continues.

I roll my eyes as her cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

“Cut it out. I didn’t ask you to list the reasons why you believed his bullshit and went behind my back.” I snarl.

She snaps to attention.

“Right. I’m sorry. Honestly, the only person I know that might want to hurt him…” Alice glances away, “is you. He hurt you. I hurt you. But I know you didn’t do this, so I don’t know who else would want to hurt him.”

A frustrated sigh forces itself out of my mouth. That’s why the detective was so quick to throw me to the wolves. A charismatic lawyer whom everyone loves cheats on his fiancée. They meet at a restaurant where she’s seen threatening revenge.

She talks about him dying. She hands him the ring.

Even though cheating isn’t a staple for good behavior, it pales in comparison to murder. And as it stands, I’m the poster woman for murder.

“Let’s end this here.” I sigh.

“What?” Alice gets up. “You don’t want to find out what happened?”

I feel like tugging my hair out.

“I do. But I’m done for today. I’m tired. You can go home.”

“Do you—"

I pin her with a glare.

“I don’t. At least not in your company.”

Alice sighs, and I watch as she grabs her bag walking out the door with her shoulders slumped. When the door closes, I head over to the board.

“What am I doing?” I mutter as I finishing wiping the board. “I have no leads. No clue. No idea. I knew next to nothing about the man I was going to marry.”

“It’s hopeless,” I say with exasperation.

I might as well handcuff myself and admit to the crime.

Chapter 11

Michael

Ipace up and down my office, spinning the pen around in my hand in an attempt to balance my thoughts and somehow find a silver lining or at least some sort of solution.

I throw the pen up, reach out to catch it, and then forget about it and let it drop to the floor when someone knocks on the door.

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