Page 66 of Claimed By My Billionaire Ex

I crossed my arms, trying to understand. "She knew how important this was. Did she say why?"

Jeff glanced around and lowered his voice. "She said...and this is a direct quote: 'You can tell Lucas that Adam texted me a link to the article about his ex-girlfriend, and I'd rather not see him right now.'"

I bit down on my lip so hard it started to bleed. "Give me one second, Jeff."

"Of course, Mr. Wilson."

Spinning around, I yanked my phone out of my pocket and quickly googled my name. The first article that popped up made my blood boil.

Family of billionaire Lucas Wilson accused of ruining high-school ex-girlfriend's reputation. Could current girlfriend, Olive Winters, be next?

It wasn't the headline...it was the name of the author.

Jake fucking Hall.

The fucking paparazzi, the man I detested. I opened the article and skimmed it quickly, searching for a reason behind the growing suspicion weighing in my chest. One specific section gave it away.

My anonymous source says Lucas Wilson confided him with this information during their time in college.

That was it. Right there. Adam was the only person I'd ever confided in my past about my high-school girlfriend. And I'd told him that information in college. So Adam was Jake's source. Dick. I didn't completely blame him, though. He was just trying to protect Olive again. But still. C'mon. There were better ways to do this.

As I exited the article, I glanced at two unread texts.

One was from Rachel:Lucas! Olive and I are having a playdate with the kids at Helen’s if you’d like to stop by.

Well, that answered one of my questions.

The second was from my personal investigator:Problem. Get here ASAP.

Slipping my phone in my pocket, I looked at Jeff. "Change of plans. We have a couple stops that we need to make."

"Yes, sir."

"Right. Let's go," I said, heading for the backdoor.

"Oh," Jeff hesitated. "Do you need to let Mr. Isaacs know you're not staying?"

"He's a big boy. He can handle it."

Truth was, Jessie was far from capable of handing any of his drama. But that was why he'd hired me. To pick up his pieces. But I hadn't expected to take a detour that required me to become the fixer of Olive's problems too. Still, that didn't bother me as much as Jessie's issues did. At least, with Olive, I actually enjoyed spending time with her.

And if I wanted that to continue, then I need to move quickly.

It was to my fortune that Jeff didn't ask questions. Granted, the NDA I'd had him sign didn't hurt.

The man I needed to meet lived on the north side of Boston in an area where I didn't venture often. It was near Olive's old apartment, which seemed ironic after everything I'd discovered in the last twenty-four hours.

The buildings were decrepit, with people sitting outside their front porches, looking despondent. On every other corner, there was a prostitute arguing with her pimp, or two men shaking hands, the pass off of a drug deal in the making.

He knew I was coming and had only agreed to meet me because money spoke louder than please. Jeff slowed outside the shop, glanced outside the window, and slid down his sunglasses. "You sure this is the right address?"

I grabbed the black bag from the seat beside me and nodded. "Yep."

Reaching for the handle, Jeff stuttered. "U-uh, should I come with you, Lucas...I mean, Mr. Wilson?"

Smiling, I opened the door. "I'll be fine but thanks. Just maybe don't go anywhere. And lock the doors."

Smoothing out my suit, I glanced around the street. This was definitely the wrong thing to wear here. More than one set of eyes were trained on me, skeptical and aggressive. Hungry, even.

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