Page 69 of Impressing Brett

Maximillian narrows his gaze. “No. I’ll grab it.”

While he’s gone, his son saunters closer. “Did you think you needed a fucking bodyguard to visit us?” he snarls, glancing at Brett.

“He’s my boyfriend, not a bodyguard.” I come a second shy of adding asshole. I’m beyond grateful Brett is letting me handle this for the most part. I can feel him stiffen beside me, but he’s letting me speak for myself.

Max narrows his eyes.

“But you don’t need me to tell you that, do you?” I continue. “After all, you have dozens of pictures of us fucking. How much did those cost you? Must have been a bundle since you only paid for the pictures and no other information.” I’m hedging, but I know I’m correct.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Max says. He even manages to look shocked.

I roll my eyes. “Sure…”

His father returns. He’s holding a manilla folder. “It would be easier for you to come back to my office. There’s not enough room up here to sit and no table.”

I hold out my hand. “We don’t need to sit at a table. Give me the will.”

He doesn’t release it. “There are things we need to go over, Lacy. It takes time and space.”

“What things? Like how I’m the beneficiary instead of you? That must’ve been a shock. You really needed that money, didn’t you?”

His eyes widen. “How could you know what’s in the will?”

I glare at him. “Doesn’t take a rocket scientist. You wouldn’t have harassed me, stalked me, blackmailed me, and hired an arsonist to smoke me out of my apartment building if my father had left the money to you instead of me. You probably wouldn’t have even called to let me know he’d died. It must’ve been a shock when you opened that will, huh? I bet you shit yourself. You really should’ve forked out the money to dig a little deeper into my boyfriend’s background before you hired an arsonist and a PI.”

Brett steps closer to me. I know he’s prepared to step in front of me or even take me down to the floor if either of these motherfuckers pulls a weapon.

Though I’m not very concerned since Brett is a trained former Army Ranger. If needed, he will have his gun out before either of them can even reach for a weapon. He could shoot both of them in the forehead without flinching.

“Now, you listen to me, Lacy. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You should watch yourself before you go around accusing people of things.” Maximillian hitches up his pants, but he can’t get them over his gut, so it’s a wasted effort.

Brett growls. “And you should consider not using your personal bank account to pay your PI or your hitman. It’s common knowledge. They teach it in Assassins for Hire 101.”

Even though Brett and Blade explained all of this to me before we left Seattle, it’s still hard for me to wrap my head around. I never liked my father’s partner, but I didn’t figure he would try to have me killed. Greedy fucker.

Maximillian gasps. His face goes completely white. He knows he’s caught. A slow smirk grows on his face a moment later. It’s time to go in for the kill. I hope this fucking works.

“You’ve got just one choice here,” Brett informs him. It’s his turn to handle this situation, just like we planned. “Give Lacy the will and let her walk out of here or spend the rest of your lives in prison.”

“You can’t prove any of that. It will be your word against mine. Now, I know you’re guessing. I never used my personal account for anything. I used offshore accounts. No one will ever be able to trace a dime.”

I count to three slowly while Brett wraps an arm around me and eases me to one side of the room.

The door behind us flies open, and the four cops storm in, guns drawn. “Hands in the air,” the one in front shouts.

The Rutherfords look stunned, and they don’t comply.

“Now,” the officer shouts. “I want to see hands in the air.”

One of the other officers reaches out to snatch the manilla folder from Maximillian’s hand. He passes it to Brett as he circles behind Maximillian and wrestles his arms to the small of his back to cuff them.

I’m doing everything I can to keep from shaking. My knees are close to buckling, but I manage to remain standing. I do not want to appear weak in any way.

When the younger Max starts to argue, his father tells him to shut up. “I’ll be calling my lawyer,” he informs us.

“You do that,” Brett says.

Max smirks on his way by as he’s escorted out of the office. It makes my skin crawl. “This isn’t over,” he grumbles.

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