Van
A few moments earlier
Iwatched as Julia walked away with one of the bodyguards, pausing to send me a sexy smile over her shoulder. It was a grin I could never tire of seeing. Eyeing the bodyguard, I nodded. I’d seen him around throughout the week. I could trust him—it’s what I told myself as I answered the call.
Hitting the green button on the phone, I connected the private detective’s call. “What do you have for me?”
“He’s in Chicago.”
“Phillip?”
“Yes, sir. He was slippery about it. Three days ago, his bank account received an interesting deposit. It didn’t feel right. I started digging. The shell company is layered in shell companies. Today, the transaction came up.”
“What transaction?” Hurry the fuck up was what I wanted to say.
“Airline ticket. Seems that your twin has been in Chicago since yesterday.”
“He’s not my twin; he’s my triplet.” Only Phillip and I are identical. Wrong word. We look alike. Olivia escaped that hell, coming out with blond hair. All three of us shared the same fucking green eyes as our bitch of a mother.
“Fuck,” I mumbled. “Fuck him, we’re leaving the city in the next hour.” I looked over the crowd. Michael’s car was out front, but I didn’t see Julia. “Where in Chicago is he?”
“I found footage of him meeting with a man yesterday at a restaurant west of the city. I’ll send you the picture from the security camera.”
My phone pinged.
I tried to keep my voice low. It wasn’t easy as the concoction of anxiety and rage was growing, a cauldron, bubbling to the surface. “Where in Chicago? I need a fucking pinpoint location.”
“I-I’m working on it. I can’t find hotel reservations under his name or any tied to his credit cards. That’s why I didn’t call sooner. I wanted to give you more. I’m sorry, Mr. Sherman, I thought you’d want to know that he’s where you are.”
I do.
Shit.
I ran my hand over my face. “Find him and keep him tailed until Ms. McGrath and I are out of the city.”
“Yes, sir.”
After hanging up, I saw a text message from an unknown number.
Ms. McGrath forgot her purse. I’m escorting her to the suite and back to the car.
I exhaled as I checked the attachment the private detective sent. “Fuck, it was a grainy picture of Phillip and Logan Butler.” I would bet my company that Logan was the provider of Phillip’s recent income, maybe the reservations were under his name. “What do you two have planned?”
Shaking my head, I sent my hypothesis to the private eye and made my way toward the front door.
“Mr. Sherman,” the bodyguard said, his eyes wide as we passed in the rotating door.
I stepped out onto the sidewalk, and he soon followed. “Sir, how are you here?”
My heart thudded against my chest as I looked around. “Where is Ms. McGrath?”
“Sir, you were here. I saw you.”
My circulation sped as I stepped forward, reaching for the man’s collar. “Where is my fiancée?”
“She left.”
“What the fuck did you say?”
“Mr. Sherman, she left with you.”
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