“No. How did you get an invite to their house in the first place?”
Smiling at that, I slip into the driver’s seat and let my head fall against the headrest.
“Steven Turner decided to help me out by putting in a call to Grant to rave about how badly he wants to pull me in as an investor. Grant, being the dick he is, couldn’t handle being the odd man out. He gave me a call a few hours later.”
Lincoln taps his fingers against the top of the car. “Why would Steven do that? You’ve done several jobs for him, yes, but he has no reason to care about what’s going on with your personal life.”
My smile widens. “I may have told him there is a hit on Grant, and I needed access.”
Lincoln curses under his breath as he steps away. “You’ve lost it, Ari. I hope you know that.”
Reaching out to grab the door, I meet his stare.
“I lost it a long time ago. The only thing I’m doing now is accepting what I’ve always known.”
“And what’s that?”
“That Adeline belongs to me. And I’m not willing to share her anymore.”
Slamming the door, I start the car and gun the engine to head out of the garage. It takes me twenty minutes to reach Adeline’s house and park in front of their large front porch.
Grant opens the door as I’m ascending the steps, a professional grin in place.
“I’m glad you found the place. I’ve heard that GPS systems tend to screw up the directions.”
I didn’t need a GPS, but I keep that to myself.
So far, I’ve discovered his gated community lacks proper security. While the front has a small station with a guard attendant, the back entrance only has a gate. All one has to do is wait for a resident to pull through and tail him into the neighborhood.
Not that I plan on physically stalking the house. It won’t be needed if I can figure out what kind of electronic surveillance he has. But still, any information is good to know.
Our palms lock, and he attempts a firmer grip than he gave me at lunch. I’m not sure if he’s trying to play me at my own game or what, but I grin and tighten my own, this battle of who has the bigger dick ending when his callous free, delicate businessman hand crunches beneath a grip that has strangled men to death.
Grant winces and pulls away, a fake laugh falling from his lips as he leads me inside the house.
“Welcome to my home. I’m sure it’s not as flashy as someone of your caliber is accustomed to, but I’m a humble man.”
Is this guy fucking kidding me?
The home is 30,000 square feet, boasts three floors, a billiards room, an in-home movie theater, a wine cellar, its own tennis court, private helipad and three pools, one of which is inside and situated next to a fully stocked gym. And that’s not all the features.
I’d found and studied the floor plan off the property appraiser website, then located old photos from when the property was last up for sale. I also knew Grant had spent three million in updates and renovations since purchasing the home, every one of them documented by permits pulled by his construction company which I plucked from city records.
But I’m not obsessed, or anything. Just well prepared. And thorough.
“It’s impressive,” I comment while wondering how so much money could be spent on a home this cold. Rather than walking into a place that looks lived in, I feel like I’m stepping onto the page of a design magazine, if they have those for places that are so white they’re clinical.
White marble stretches the floors, topped by beige area rugs with white patterns. The carpet rolling up the winding staircase is white, the furniture, the walls, the fucking drapes and architectural ceilings – all white.
You couldn’t so much as breathe in this place without leaving a stain, which makes me oddly happy that I neglected to wipe my feet before we walked in.
Not that Grant would be scrubbing the tracks, if I left any.
Our voices echo in the large space, and I’m led through two sets of doors to a sitting room where Adeline sits primly on a love seat, her dark hair and blue dress a splash of color against the room.
Unfortunately, the smile she gives me is the fake one, and I clench my teeth in response to it. Without doubt, she’s angry, and I