My father leans forward, resting his forearms on the edge of his desk. “You like chasing after rich old ladies now or what?”
Irritation flits through my blood, and I mentally tell myself to cool down. I knew he’d say something like this. It’s just his way. “I’m looking out for my fiancée.”
His brows shoot up practically to his hairline. “Your fiancée now, is it? You never bothered to tell me about this. Though I heard you took her to meet your mother. Guess you mean business after all.”
“Don’t think you much care who I’m marrying anyway,” I retort. “Besides, you knew I was with a Lancaster. You even expressed your approval.”
“Not sure if I completely approve. The Lancaster name does bring a different kind of exposure.”
I can’t deny that, but I also need to make one thing clear before this conversation goes further.
“No more insults about her. You can’t call her a liability either. Do you understand?” I lift my brows, waiting for him to challenge me.
A soft chuckle leaves him. “Look at you. Manning up. I like to see it.”
I don’t say anything in response. Maybe he’s right. I’ve been shuffling along, just living life. Now that I’ve got something—someone—to protect, I am manning up, as he calls it.
“Just watch it with that family. Don’t give anyone too many details about what you do, even your girl. That family could blow us up and put a spotlight on our business.”
“I’m not scared. We’ve always stayed in the shadows. And I’m thinking about getting out of this anyway.”
He snort-laughs. “It’s not that easy, son. You really believe I’m going to just let you walk away and let your new rich wifey take care of you? I don’t think so.”
I think of Sylvie saying her money could take care of us for life, and I realize my protests weren’t in vain. There’s no way my father will let me escape from the business. No matter how hard I try.
“Tell me what you found out about Sylvia Lancaster,” I say, changing the subject.
I asked my father to have his best private investigator do a little digging into Sylvia Lancaster’s background, see if he could come up with anything that’s been kept quiet. Any information I can use against her, I’ll take straight to her and blackmail her ass straight out of Sylvie’s life, once and for all.
Dad sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Not much. Most of what she does is public knowledge. Except for her recent facelift. She was photographed at the airport, arriving in Ibiza, but she was never caught leaving that place. They did that shit in secret, so no one would see her with bandages.”
“Already knew about that.” I jiggle my foot, anxious for something juicy. “Anything else?”
He snags a manilla envelope from the bottom of the pile of paperwork on his desk and drops it on top, flipping the file open. He scans over the information and I marvel at the fact that he’s so damn old-fashioned he couldn’t have the info sent to him via email.
“Paper. Really?” I ask.
“Easier to get rid of compared to an electronic file, which leaves a trail.”
“And paper doesn’t?”
He lifts his gaze to mine. “It was put together on a typewriter. My guy doesn’t like to take any risks.”
I almost laugh, but when I see the look on his face, I remain quiet.
“Looks like she was questioned by a team of doctors about six years ago or so,” Dad says offhandedly as he continues reading.
That has me sitting up straighter.
“Really? What about?” I keep my tone nonchalant, but my interest is definitely piqued.
This could be exactly what I’m looking for.
“Something about filling false prescriptions at a variety of pharmacies?” Dad’s brows draw together as he continues to read the report. “Yeah, she was accused of gaming pharmacies and using fake prescriptions to obtain medication for her kid.”
For Sylvie.
“The child wasn’t named because she was a minor.” He glances up at me. “Your fiancée?”