As far as he was concerned, having Carmen as his wife was as inevitable as the sun rising in the east.
“Why are you here?” Lawrence abruptly demanded.
“I want the papers you stole from the attic.”
There was only the slightest hesitation before Lawrence was stiffly moving across the room, looking like he had something stuck up his ass. He halted at the large mahogany desk that had been hand-carved and polished until it glowed in the sunlight that angled through the tall windows.
He pulled open the middle drawer to extract a key. Then crouching down, he used the key to open the bottom drawer.
Moving quickly, Griff was next to the desk, his hand on the gun he had holstered beneath the jacket. He’d learned never to underestimate the depths of evil the Jacobs men were willing to sink to.
Including shooting him in the middle of the elegant office.
But when Lawrence straightened, he was clutching a thick envelope in his hand.
“This is the original insurance policy.”
Griff reached to take the envelope, and tucked it in his pocket. He’d hand it to his lawyer when he returned to California.
Right now he was more interested in what Lawrence hadn’t given him.
“What else?” he demanded, holding out his phone when Lawrence’s lips parted in protest. “Unless you want to get the cops involved, don’t piss me off.”
An ugly anger darkened the older man’s pale eyes. He was used to people who jumped to obey his every command. He didn’t like having to be the one taking orders.
Still, he wasn’t stupid. He knew that if Griff decided to press the issue he might very well end up in jail. If nothing else, his place in the business world would be over.
Corporate America might be cutthroat, but you weren’t supposed to get caught trying to kill off your enemies.
With a grudging expression, he bent over and dug through the bottom drawer. At last he pulled out a folded piece of paper and shoved it toward Griff.
“Here.”
Griff took the paper, unfolded it, and studied the letter that was signed at the bottom by Lawrence and a Joseph Conway, Carmen’s grandfather.
“What is this?” he demanded.
“I was named as legal guardian for Carrie,” Lawrence admitted, his expression as stiff as his voice. “This is a document that hands over that guardianship to Carrie’s grandparents.”
Griff skimmed through the brief note, realizing it was a handwritten contract that would never have held up in court if Carmen had pressed the issue. His lips curled, fury blasting through him as he realized exactly what he was looking at.
“Christ,” he rasped. “You held your own niece hostage to force her grandparents to keep shut about the three-million-dollar inheritance that belonged to Carmen.”
Lawrence tilted his chin, trying to pretend he wasn’t a total slimeball.
“They didn’t want the money, and I needed it for the company.”
Griff gave a disgusted shake of his head, tucking away the paper. He wondered if this was the reason Carmen’s grandparents had been so upset when they caught her in the attic. They wouldn’t want her to realize that her own uncle had been willing to barter her away for three million dollars.
“Maybe if you’d been less worried about money, you would have realized your brother hadn’t killed his wife or himself and would have insisted on a more thorough investigation, instead of trying to sweep everything under the rug,” he said, sickened by the very sight of the man who’d failed on so many levels. Most basically, Lawrence Jacobs had failed at being a decent human being. “And that you were raising a cold-blooded killer.”
Without warning, the man’s brittle arrogance visibly shattered. Releasing a harsh sigh, he scrubbed his face with his beefy hands, looking unbearably weary.
“I know it’s too late, but I am sorry,” he said in harsh tones.
“Sorry for what?”
“All of it,” the older man said, lifting his head to meet Griff ’s hard gaze. “I should have appreciated everything that Stuart sacrificed for me. He took care of me and the business when he was barely old enough to take care of himself. Instead, all I could do was dwell on how much better I would be if I was in charge.” He gave a slow shake of his head. “And most of all I’m sorry that I spent all my time here.” He spread his arms to indicate the large office. “I should have concentrated on being a real father and husband.” He grimaced. “And I should have protected Carrie.”
Griff bit back his words of agreement. Who knew if the older man was genuinely regretful or if he was just hoping to sway Griff into going easy on him. It didn’t really matter. As far as Griff was concerned, Lawrence Jacobs could rot in his own nastiness.
“It’s my job to protect Carmen now,” he said, leaning toward the older man. “And I take my duty very seriously.”
Lawrence didn’t miss the threat. He took a step back, his expression wary.
“What do you want from me?”
“You can start by paying back the money you stole from her.”
Griff watched with pleasure at the shock that rippled over Lawrence’s face. It wasn’t that Carmen needed the money. She’d probably hand it over to the nearest charity. But he couldn’t think of any better way to punish the older man.
“But I—” Lawrence bit off his words as he caught a glimpse of Griff ’s warning expression. Griff wouldn’t hesitate to call in every favor owed to him by various law enforcement agencies to bury this man in legal troubles. “It will have to be in payments,” he agreed in sickly tones.
“Fine, but I’ll be keeping track of them,” he said.
A drop of sweat trailed down Lawrence’s jaw before landing on his gray tailored jacket.
“Anything else?”
“Stay away from Carmen,” Griff told him. “If she decides she ever wants to speak with you or Matthew in the future, that will be her choice.” As much as he wanted to add that it would be over his dead body before Carmen ever got close to a man who had not only stolen her inheritance, but had tried to ram her into the river, he couldn’t force Carmen to forget her only family. Someday she might feel it necessary to heal the past. He would stand at her side, even as he guarded her back. “Got it?” he demanded.
Lawrence gave a slow nod. “Got it.”
“And always know that I’ll be watching you.” Griff deliberately glanced toward the computer on the glossy desk. “One wrong move and I’ll nail you to the wall.”
With his warning delivered, he pivoted to head out of the office. It was overdramatic, but hey, he had to have a little fun after being forced to waste his entire morning personally delivering his threat.
He wouldn’t be nearly so nice if he had to come back.
A few minutes later he was in his SUV, making the drive to the farm at the same breakneck speed. He was hoping to get Carmen to the airport to make their evening flight to California. As nice as it was to spend time with Rylan and Jaci, as well as his grandmother, he was ready to have time alone with Carmen.
Forced to slow as he reached the gravel road, he turned into the driveway. Pulling out his phone he made a quick call to the security team he had hired. Moments later he watched a nondescript sedan appear from the shadows of the hedge and head away from the house.
He climbed out of his vehicle and walked toward the barn where the last of the equipment was being packed into a long trailer. The heavy machinery would be sold at a local auction, while the furniture was going into storage. He didn’t want Carmen to regret selling those pieces that had been hand-carved by her great-grandfather.
Someday they might have children. Then she’d want them to have something from her past.
The mere thought was enough to stir his blood. Or maybe his blood was being stirred by the sight of Carmen, who’d stepped onto the back porch.
She was wearing faded jeans and one of his flannel shirts. Her hair was a tumble of golden curls and there was dirt on her face.
&
nbsp; She’d never been more gorgeous.
With steps that were more a jog than a stroll, he moved across the yard and vaulted up the stairs. His heart soared as she walked directly into his arms.
He thought back to the first moment he’d seen her standing on the beach. Her beauty had been luminous. As if she was glowing from inside.
He’d known he was in trouble. He just hadn’t known it was a forever-and-ever kind of trouble.
“It’s about time,” she murmured.
He planted a kiss on top of her tousled curls, breathing deeply of her lemony scent.
“Did you miss me?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Just a little?”
She snuggled closer. “Maybe a lot.”
“Mmm. I like the sound of that.”
He pressed another kiss to the top of her head before urging her back into the house. The icy breeze was starting to pick up. They needed to finish up and get on the road to the airport.
Reaching the living room, he glanced around at the barren floors and walls.
“Do you need me to do anything?” he asked.
She shook her head. “The movers hauled everything to the storage unit you rented. All we need to do is drop the key by the real estate office.” She paused, glancing around with a small sigh. “It feels so empty.”
He pulled her tight against his side. “Are you sure you’re ready to give up this place?” he demanded. “You know there’s no hurry to make a decision.”
She sucked in a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “It’s time. My grandfather would be sad to see the place falling apart. He would want a family here who are willing to devote their lives to the land.” She turned to meet his worried gaze with a small smile. “Besides, I’m ready to put the past behind us and concentrate on the future.”
He leaned down to press a lingering kiss against her lips. “Our future.”
“Our future,” she readily agreed.
Lifting his head, he studied her upturned face. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” She reached to grab his hand. “I’m ready.”
Holding hands, they walked out the door, facing the world together.
Alexandra Ivy, What Are You Afraid Of?
(Series: The Agency # 2)
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