Page 66 of Trial of Deceit

“That would not surprise me.He’s a politician.”

“Yeah.”Ashari watched as Toby pushed the chair back, stood, then approached the door.“Dad,” she called out, and he paused.“I’m sorry about Romar.He was the best big brother to me despite…”

Toby’s brows furrowed.“Despite?”

A heaviness laid on her.How could she tell the man who adopted her when he didn’t have to, that his son had been secretly in love with her all this time?

She forced a smile, unable to add more to the sadness her father couldn’t fully mask from his eyes.“Despite us not getting along sometimes.”

Toby sadly smiled, his eyes glazing over as he reminisced.“You both always fought for my attention.”

“Because you’re the best dad anyone could ask for,” she stated, and his eyes softened.She remembered nothing of her biological father except his death; selfish as it was, in this lifetime and the next, she wouldn’t want anyone else except Toby Payne as her father.

The emotion left Toby’s eyes before he nodded.He opened the door and left, closing it behind him.

Ashari chuckled.“Never great with showing affection,” she teased the locked door.Ashari stood with a stretch.She moved toward the door and was about to open it when it opened from the outside.Face-to-face with Lyssa, she smiled.“Lyssa!”

Lyssa scowled.“Married?”

Ashari’s smile vanished.She stepped backward into the room, not wanting to drag attention to them.“Yes, but—”

“But what?”Lyssa asked, refusing to enter the room.

Ashari glared.“Don’t make it seem like we were a thing, Lyssa.This is my job—”

“It’s more than a job now,” Lyssa argued, rage building in her eyes.“The Ashari I love would’ve never married that man.She would’ve found another way to win a case.”

“Maybe you don’t know me at all,” Ashari countered, and Lyssa faltered for a moment.“You’re just sex to me, Lyssa.We’re not in a relationship and would never be.You’re just a pastime when I get bored, and the sooner you understand that, the easier this case will be for you.Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go watch my informant get interrogated, then return to the person who actually gets to say they’re in a relationship with me.”Ashari pushed past Lyssa, ignoring the shock painted on her face and the redness of her skin.

Stomping away, Ashari seethed at Lyssa’s audacity.How dare her seek a confrontation — at work of all places?The headquarters was bustling with agents grabbing coffees and escorting informants around with their heads covered.Anyone could’ve overheard them.

If Romar was alive, he’d laugh at her.Probably give her a hard speech like their father would, too: Do not mix pleasure with business.You should know this better than anyone else.

Ashari bitterly laughed as she entered the observation room.She was thankful it was empty.No one was there to question why tears had suddenly formed in her eyes.She blinked them away while standing before the one-way window that took up the majority of the wall.She pressed the intercom next to the window before crossing her arms and listening to her father interrogate Isley.

Isley Pinnock was an interesting man.The F.B.I.had a hunch that he was the politician who frequented America to form connections for the Richardsons’ gun and drug trade.They’d patiently waited for him to do his regular visits under the guise of advocacy for gun reform, then intercepted him at his hotel.Shocked, he’d begun confessing to crimes before they could begin torturing it out of him.Still, the F.B.I.knew better than to make sudden arrests.The Richardsons had gotten away with their gun and drug trade for years; concrete evidence was needed to extradite their leader to the US.

Thinking of how her finger felt empty without the heavy ring, Ashari knew it wouldn’t be easy.But even if it was the last thing she did, Jediah Richardson and his entire organization would be brought to justice.

For Romar.

For her father’s legacy.

For her future’s reputation.

Jediah placed a hand in his pocket as he walked with Dimitri and the head manager.While the man raved about sales, Jediah admired the expensive interior of the car mart — from its sleek columns, to the squeaky clean tiles.Chatter bustled from every area, buyers looking into renting or owning a lavish, super car sold from Richardson Motors, the only licensed dealer in Jamaica for certain renowned brands.Others were seeking interior detailing or requesting their cars be professionally washed.

If he’d had kids, the money made through the car marts would be enough for Jediah’s great-great-great grandchildren to never work, and many generations after that.Still, Jediah wanted more.But it wasn’t from greed.

His car marts were limited to only the North, South, and West of Jamaica.It was suspicious for a booming business to not have a nexus in any of the East.What made matters worse was this was all because of the Valcourt family.

Jediah’s scowl deepened as they walked into a back garage.A man wearing a reflective high-visibility safety vest was directing car carrier trailers inside.New cars were strapped onto it.

As they stopped a distance away to watch the men work, Dimitri crossed one arm over the next.“Cameron would love this job.”

Jediah didn’t spare the man a glance.“I’ve told you to drop it,” he said in a low warning voice, to which Dimitri scoffed.Jediah faced Dimitri.“Cameron’s doing something.”

“Something I can’t know about?”Dimitri pressed.“When since?”

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