Page 57 of Convict's Game
“He’s a playboy.” Mila’s lip curled in disgust. “If the yachts got any bigger, I’d assume he was compensating for something.”
I whistled. “I can’t decide if I hate him or want to party with him.”
“My grandparents despaired over both of their sons. My bio father took their money and went on drunken and drug-fuelled binges, one of which cost him his life when he overdosed aged just twenty-six. Wallace somehow escaped the same fate and is on a never-ending holiday.”
“Isn’t it in his interest to keep the money coming in?”
She reached for the stack of papers on the table. “You’d think so, but the will you found is an earlier draft of my grandfather’s. I don’t know what’s different in the newer one, only that it exists, and I’m assuming some parts haven’t changed. It is right here in black and white that Wallace gets a massive payout if the company is sold. Far more than his monthly dividend. It doesn’t matter to him that everyone else might have to wait years for a settlement, if they are even entitled to a penny once it’s all wrapped up. The reading of the new will is what we’re waiting for. Once that has been held, the voting can happen and the future of the business can be decided.”
“Tell me how Jacobs is between you and your grandmother.”
“Since my grandfather died, he seems to have permeated their business. He is absolutely in contact with my grandmother, because the solicitors told me so. She’s still talking to them, by the way. Just no one else besides Jacobs. That random businessman with a history of selling women for sex was at the funeral, in the company affairs, oh, and I forgot to mention this—if the family vote is split, from what I can tell, a thing called a trusted company panel casts the final vote. It’s like a failsafe for circumstances like this, my grandfather explained once. There are three companies listed on that panel, with any of their multiple executives being able to take the vote, and guess who’s involved with every single one? Rhys fucking Jacobs. The bastard has his fingers in all these pies and yet has vanished from sight. That’s what I discovered. That’s why I need to see him and why I was willing to go to any lengths to do so.”
She sagged back into the cushions as if telling me all of this was a huge weight off her shoulders.
On the other hand, I felt bolstered. I knew nothing about her business or the payroll, but I cared that she did. That made it matter. I was immediately on her side. I cared that she was hurting over this. She was trying to do what was right for peopleshe loved and those she felt she needed to protect. I fucking adored that about her.
I wrangled my phone from my pocket. Creating a chat with Tyler and Shade, I sent them a voice message. “I’m going to be searching for game candidate Rhys Jacobs. He’s fucking over Mila’s family. Can we make it a crew priority?”
I was pushing my luck after last night and the game. For all I knew, Arran could’ve already heard and sent them a message that I was out.
If that happened, I’d still deliver for Mila. Just on my own.
Reaching for her, I pulled her closer then kissed the mouth I’d been staring at while she’d laid her life bare for me. Mila’s lips parted under mine, and her fingers slid into my hair.
I kept it light and ran my knuckles down her face, loving the wary expectation in her eyes. “All that talking earned you a reward.”
She arched a brow. “You’re deeply messed up if emotional vulnerability gets you going.”
“Certified, probably.”
“Is my reward you finding Jacobs?”
“No, but when I do, I’ll force him to the ground in front of you to explain himself.” I stood, catching her hand to keep her with me. “You earned the reward that had you all hot and bothered when I described it.”
She breathed out, following me from the living room.
In her bedroom, I picked up the white rug from beside her bed and placed it exactly where I wanted, in front of the tall, silvered mirror. Then I smiled at my lass.
“Last chance to call for a safe word.”
She didn’t flinch. Brave little thing.
“Good,” I murmured. “Now get over here, Mila.”
Unmoving, she clung to the doorway, her cheeks flushed pink and her lips apart.
Damn. I loved the shy-girl look on her more than anything before.
“Scared?” I taunted.
A tightening of her jaw told me her thoughts, even if she still didn’t speak. It brought an idea to my mind. An upping of the ante. Mila needed help not only in her family affairs but in how she and I worked each other out. We’d be having a lot of sex, after all.
From my pocket, I drew out a skeleton bandanna and tightened it between my fists. I had just the way to help her into this.
Chapter 22
Mila
