Page 65 of Parker
He clears his throat. “Joel, the only threat to her was Worth. And he’s gone. It’s been a year since your divorce. Isn’t it time you moved on?”
I glare at him.
He holds my stare. “The resources could be put to better use.”
“No,” I repeat, firmer this time. “Keep two men on her. I want daily reports on her routine.”
Boyd nods, says nothing more, and leaves the room.
This whole time, I’ve been doing everything in my power to keep her safe. Even when I couldn’t have her. Even when she wanted nothing to do with me. All I want is for her to be happy.
Losing her was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. And even now, standing at the head of a united empire, with more power than I’ve ever held… there’s still a Nicky-shaped hole in my heart that will never heal.
Chapter twenty-nine
Sauchiehall Street, Glasgow
April 2020
Nicky
“One million pounds?” Sophie shrieks at the top of her lungs. We’re standing at an ATM in the middle of Sauchiehall Street. “Fucking hell!”
“Shut up. It must be a mistake.” I eject the card, wipe the magnetic strip on my sleeve, then slide it back in and punch in my PIN. Joel’s birthday. The screen reads:
Account Name—Mrs. Nicola Parker.
I need to change that. But changing my name on every document feels so final.
Account Number—36788976
Account balance—£1,001,221.00
This can’t be right. I blink again, but the numbers don’t change. I lean against the machine, steadying myself.
“Nope,” my friend says. “There it is, one million pounds in your account.” Sophie leans over my shoulder, squints, then steps back, fanning herself dramatically.
“I don’t have one million pounds. I was worrying about paying rent this month.”
“You do now,” she says, nudging my ribs with her elbow. “Did you win something? A lottery?”
My mind races with possibilities. Nothing that makes sense comes to mind.
“Is it your divorce settlement?” I shake my head, eyes fixed on the numbers in case they dial back to nothing.
“Divorce settlement? I didn’t ask for anything.”
People huff behind me for taking so long. I press the button to print a mini statement and retrieve my card. We wander to the small tearoom across the street to sit down and absorb what’s happened. “Where did the money come from?”
I unfold the statement. The last entry on a long list of debits is a credit transaction. One million pounds received from Parker Fashion on the first of April. My eyes move from the paper to my friend and back again.
“Why would he give me a million pounds? It doesn’t make sense. We’ve been done for over a year. He owes me nothing.”
Sophie shrugs, unconcerned about the why of the situation. “Who cares, Nicky? Now you can do what you’ve always dreamed of and open your shop. Nicky’s Alterations. I can see it now,” she says and stands, lifting her arms in the air, mimicking a sign above a shop window. “All those hours of business planning and scouring the internet for cheap shop fronts won’t be in vain. Maybe that’s what Joel is trying to do? Give you an opportunity to make something of your life.”
“Perhaps,” I mumble. “But I can’t just accept this. Not without knowing why. Not without seeing him.” A heavy ache settles in my chest. I haven’t seen him since I stormed out of his office. There’s that familiar sting again. Sharp. Precise. A paper cut to the heart every damn time.
Sophie is very active in social circles. She hears a lot of gossip about the Parker family. The past six months, she’s bounced from one business owner’s bed to another, and seemingly, my ex-husband is making a name for himself in the darkest parts of the city. I try not to listen, but she insists on telling me every piece of gossip. Now, she knows the truth about the Parker family, what I married into and, subsequently, walked away from.
