Page 56 of Dagger

“Bert must have had some foresight,” Kennedy suggested, taking in my shock.

“Jesus,” I breathed, my eyes skimming over the ridiculous numbers. “I can’t believe it. I mean, I knew Bert had money, but I never imagined this.”

“Those numbers already make you a wealthy woman,” Kennedy pointed out. “But taking into account everythingHenderson put you through, I want to get more. I could double that figure, but I need you to give me the green light.”

My lips twisted with disgust. “My ex-husband’s cash is filthy. I’d catch a disease just touching it. I’d rather get a job cleaning truck stop restrooms than have to resort to spending money gained from hurting women and children.”

“I get it. I’d feel the same way in your position, and anyway,” Ned nodded toward the screen, “six million is no amount to be sniffed at. You can live quite comfortably off the interest alone.”

“Accept it,” I instructed.

“Think about it carefully, Elise,” she requested. “I can squeeze your ex for more.”

Scanning Kennedy’s face, I tried to weigh up the pros and cons.

Six million was more than I could’ve imagined, though the tech shares made up nearly half of that amount. Robert also had invested heavily for years, so I knew he was worth way more than he was admitting. He had offshore accounts and mountains of cash stashed away in his safe.

I swore to myself if I ever got out, I’d help victims of trafficking. It would be cathartic if I donated any extra settlement I could squeeze from him. However, I didn’t want to stay married to Robert for a second more than necessary. I had a life to live and a granddaughter to spoil, but the need for some kind of retribution left a bitter taste in my mouth.

“I don’t want it dragging on,” I told Ned. “Robert’s taken enough of my life. I want out now.”

“Give me today,” Ned asked. “I can’t file the paperwork until tomorrow anyway. Whatever offer we have on the table by six o’clock is what you’ll take away from this nightmare of a marriage. He owes you big, he owes your family big, and by God I’ll make the fucker pay. I can’t get back the time he took fromyou and Sophie, but I can make the years you have left more than comfortable.”

“I’ll be happy with six million,” I reiterated.

“Why?” she inquired. “When I can get more?”

I studied her again, taking in the determination etched onto her face. “For someone so beautiful, you’re scary.”

Kennedy rubbed her hands together excitedly with a wide grin. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet. Now, sit back and watch a master at work.”

“Oh my God,” Sophie shouted excitedly over the music thumping from the speakers in the bar. “Nine million?”

“I know,” Kennedy said, disappointment lacing her tone. “One more day, and I think I could’ve gotten twelve, but my time was limited.”

I glanced at John, who was leaning against the bar with Cash and Abe, laughing at something Atlas was saying. “At least it’s more than six.”

“But less than twelve,” she retorted, pressing her lips together. “I must be losing my touch.”

Sophie bumped me with her shoulder. “Ignore her. Ned’s an overachiever.”

“Better than being basic,” Kennedy sassed, her stare sliding toward Layla and Cara, who had their arms full of baby boys. “I love how they’re sleeping through a party. It bodes well for your sex life. You and Bowie can make all the noise in the world, and they’ll just sleep through it.”

Layla laughed. “The twins and Willow might, but Sunny’s a different story.” Her gaze went to the dance floor where her daughter and Kady were shaking their little asses to some breathy-sounding girl singing about espresso. “My girlhates sleeping because while she’s snoozing, she isn’t up doing something.”

Sunny bent over at the waist and began to twerk and jiggle her ass.

“Jesus,” Layla breathed.

Cara laughed. “She’ll make a great stripper one day.”

Layla moved Finn to her shoulder, swaying him in time to the music. “Don’t tell Bowie. His head will explode. He’s already worried about her flirting. If you even suggest she takes her clothes off for money, he’ll enroll her in the nearest religious school.”

“Nothing wrong with stripping,” Kennedy interjected. “There’s some cake to be made. It paid for my law degree and my bar exam.”

My mouth gaped slightly. “You were a stripper?”

“Yeah,” she said proudly. “I was the toast of Vegas. People came far and wide to see my tits and my routines.” She looked down at her chest, her head jerking from left to right. “You wouldn’t think so now, though. They lost their pep after I breastfed the twins.”

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