Page 80 of The Billionaire's Son

“Understood, but you’re living on the most expensive piece of real estate in the county.”

Kelly swallowed, tasting something bitter.

“Paparazzi are also surrounding police headquarters downtown,” Marshall continued. “Brass isn’t happy.”

“I don’t know what to say, sir.”

“Can you explain this photograph?”

“Yesterday was my day off. Wentworth took his son out on his boat and asked me to go with them.” She shrugged. “Another boat went by and its occupants snapped photos with their phones. I had no idea one would end up on the front page of a tabloid.”

“This photo is from an expensive long range lens,” Marshall said. “Not a cell phone.”

She’d assumed the photo was courtesy of the idiots who had zoomed too close to Drop Shot, but remembered the boat anchored in the distance. Had they been paparazzi?

“Of course, your private life is your own business, Officer Jenkins. You can date whoever you want.”

“Sir, I’m not dating Wentworth. Yes, I’ve been pretending to be his son’s mother, but that ends tonight.”

Marshall’s brows went up. “You’re leaving his residence?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The son has regained his memory?”

“No, sir. Not yet.”

“You’re sick of being the guest of a billionaire?”

“I just want my life back.” But is it already too late?

Marshall nodded and stared at her as if he knew precisely why she was leaving. The fact that she’d wear a skimpy bikini in front of Trey obviously left the wrong impression. She could have worn her competition swimsuit.

“That’s probably a wise choice,” Marshall said.

“Yes, sir.”

“Because of the corruption allegations, the department has no choice but to take this report seriously. Internal Affairs has opened an investigation.”

“Oh, my God,” Kelly breathed. Internal Affairs? This couldn’t be happening.

“As of today, you’re off patrol, Officer Jenkins,” he said in a firm voice, one that told her there would be no discussion.

“Off patrol, sir?”

“You’ll have to ride a desk until IA completes their investigation.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

IN HIS OFFICE digging through the disaster that was the latest quarterly statement from Wentworth Industries—even analyzing his father’s mistakes was better than thinking about Maria’s betrayal—Trey heard his cell buzz. He checked the readout and relaxed. Joe Schwartz. Despite the fact that the man was his father’s PR genius, Trey had always liked Joe.

“Yeah, Joe?”

“I just sent you an email,” Joe said. “There’s a photograph attached. You need to open it.”

With a sense of foreboding, Trey opened his email account and found Joe’s message. He clicked on the attachment, and a grainy photo of Kelly on the deck of Drop Shot materialized.

“What is this?” he asked. “Does someone want money?”

“It’s the cover of today’s National Intruder.”

“You mean it’s already out there?”

“Yes.”

Trey enlarged the attachment and stared at the huge headline: Wentworth Heir Picks New Mother.

He cursed. How did the Intruder get that part of the story? Hell, the media always found a way.

He hated this. Kelly was going to hate this.

Did she know about the story yet?

“You know Wentworth Industries shies away from any tawdry publicity,” Joe said.

“You mean my father does.”

“He wants to do damage control.”

Trey sighed. Of course he did.

“I wanted you to know what was happening on this end,” Joe said.

“I appreciate that, Joe, but wouldn’t it be better to just ignore the story?”

“Your father doesn’t think so.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think it’s time you took your rightful place on the board of directors.”

Trey laughed softly. “Not yet, Joe.”

“When?”

“Has my father announced his retirement?”

“If that’s what you’re waiting for, there could be a hostile takeover before you make your move.”

---