Page 64 of Take Me Under

As Alexander spoke about potential contract concerns, I typed a quick email to Myla, making her aware of the incoming documents.

“How’s the family, Alex?” I asked once it was clear we were past the business portion of the call.

“Good,” he said, his tone softening. “Really good.”

“I haven’t seen you at the club recently.”

“Krystina’s got her hands full with Eva and Turning Stone Advertising. She thrives on chaos,” he said with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s been a while. We should stop by soon.”

“Yes, you should. I’m glad to hear things are going well foryou,” I said, meaning it. Alexander and Krystina had a relationship I admired. The couple had been through a lot yet had come out stronger for it. I had no intention of settling down, but if I did, I imagined my future would look something like theirs.

We wrapped up the call after a few more minutes of small talk, and I returned to my research.

The more I read, the more I realized my arsenic theory wasn’t just plausible—it was probable. The symptoms Serena described matched too perfectly to ignore.

I picked up my phone again and dialed Zeke.

“Boss,” he answered on the second ring.

“Where are you?”

“Just about to leave for the club.”

“I need to run something by you. Are you able to come to the penthouse?”

“On my way.”

Zeke arrived a short while later. He stepped into the office and frowned what he saw my concerned expression. Closing the door behind him, he waited for me to speak.

“Sit,” I said, gesturing to the chair across from me.

He did as instructed, his sharp eyes scanning my face. “What’s going on?”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. “I need your take on something.”

I outlined what Serena had told me about her father’s death, then walked Zeke through what I’d found on arsenic poisoning and the latest news about the murder at The Midtown. He listened without interrupting, his expression unreadable.

When I finished, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “You think someone poisoned her old man?”

“It’s possible,” I said. “But if that’s the case, why? And is it connected to the motel?”

“Connecting them is a stretch. I mean, we’re talking about a crime stretching across two continents.” Zeke paused andfrowned. I could see the wheels turning in his head. “Unless whoever broke into her room was looking for something related to her father.”

“It’s a theory,” I said.

He shook his head slowly, his gaze narrowing. “If someone wanted him dead, they had to have a reason. Money? Revenge? He didn’t exactly have the kind of job that makes enemies.”

“Unless he found something he wasn’t supposed to,” I countered.

Zeke raised his eyebrows, appearing skeptical. “You aren’t the type to entertain conspiracies.”

“No, I’m not. There’s just something about this that isn’t sitting right. I feel like it’s all connected somehow. Call it a hunch.”

Zeke frowned again, considering the possibility. “You think Serena knows more than she’s letting on?”

“No,” I said firmly. “If she did, she wouldn’t have described his symptoms so openly or casually mention the murder at The Midtown. I don’t think she’s hiding anything.”

Zeke studied me for a long moment before nodding. “Alright. What’s the next step?”

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