Page 65 of The Billionaire and His Forever

Esmeralda places a gentle hand on my shoulder for a fraction of a second and then whisks out of my office, closing the door softly behind her. I shove the newspaper off to the side and don’t bother looking at it again.

The remainder of the morning is a blur of video conferences, phone calls, and emails. I’m starting to regret skipping breakfast, the headache I’ve been ignoring suddenly moving into my sinuses, when my cell rings with a call from Bowen. I consider ignoring it, calling her back later, but why not make my day a little bit worse? After all, I’m sure it can’t be good news. It never is.

“Whatever it is, just spit it out,” I say instead of hello.

“Are you sitting down?” she says.

My gut clenches. “That bad? Go on, then. I’m listening.” This whole goddamn case is giving me ulcers. Fucking Natasha.

“Your favorite person has recanted her statement.”

I freeze at my desk, not computing. Obviously, she means Natasha, but there’s no way that demon would recant her statements. She’s in too deep. That’s not her way.

“Graham, you there?”

“I’m going to need you to explain that a little better, Bow.”

“Natasha recanted her statement to the police. She admitted it was an accidental overdose, self-administered. The DA dropped all charges against you and Miss Montgomery.”

My jaw drops. “What? Natasha would never do that.”

Bow clears her throat. “Haven’t you…seen the news today?”

“Obviously not.”

“Her camp is selling it to the public as her being confused after waking from her coma—safe to say I know exactly where they gotthatidea from. She’s spinning her overdose as the result of stress and strain caused by the rumors surrounding your affair. Or some shit like that. Anyway, the press is eating it up. She’s going to come out of this smelling like a rose. And with the sympathy of her fans, unfortunately.”

“Sympathy for the devil, eh?”

“Indeed,” she sighs. “But congratulations on your freedom. You can rest easy. At least, for now. God only knows what that bitch might be saving in her back pocket for next time.”

I stand and start pacing around my office. “You’re not wrong. Natasha never backs down from a fight. Is she back at Central Park West now?”

“She’s supposed to be checking into one of those celebrity rehab centers once she gets released from the hospital. Knowing her, she’ll turn it into a reality TV show.”

“I would not be surprised.”

“Also, there’s one more piece of business we need to discuss,” Bow says. “You still need to remove Ford Montgomery’s Power of Attorney. Now that the case is over, there’s no need. Especially since PoAs can get messy.”

“Shit. I completely forgot about that. Can you take care of it?”

“Already working on it.” Bow starts typing, so fast it sounds like machinegun fire through the phone. “I’ll have it handled and the paperwork sent your way this afternoon.”

We hang up and I start shutting down my laptop to go trail riding with my daughter. I can finally breathe. I’m free from that godforsaken succubus.

I suppose that makes two vanquished succubi now, doesn’t it?

God, the Montgomerys are a real piece of work. As if Abbie’s betrayal wasn’t fucking devastating enough, her father—my oldest friend, the man who was supposed to be my closest confidant—has turned into my enemy as well. How does shit like this happen? I trusted him.

Trusted him so much I gave him power of attorney.

And then I pause, hands hovering over my laptop.

Ford’s power of attorney.

My brain starts clicking, and the pieces start coming together. I’d forgotten, amid the stress of the case, that Ford had power of attorney when Bowen was unavailable. Ford had access to all of my accounts, my business, my entire estate, my entire fucking life when I was arrested.

Ford, who showed up at the Manhattan apartment not two weeks ago to destroy my life, fresh from his trip to the Bahamas and wearing a brand new suit…even though he was so broke, he’d sent his daughter to work for me over the summer just so she could seduce me and extort me for my money.Ford, who had access to both my bank account numbers and all of Abbie’s identifying information.Ford, who has a long history of fucking over anyone and everyone when he’s up against a wall. That motherfucker. Thatmotherfucker.

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