The Monster (Boston Belles #3) - L.J. Shen Page 0,54

the table were cunning, smart, and capable, but only one of them had murdered someone before, to the extent of my knowledge, and would go to such extreme lengths with such ease.

Sam.

Gerald Fitzpatrick was a goddamn mess.

Everything about him screamed depression. He lost weight, a lot of it—at least forty pounds—had dark circles around his eyes, and looked like he hadn’t slept or showered in days.

He was a dead man walking, and I savored every moment of watching him like this.

“The hostile takeover for FMK Petroleum is well underway.” Cillian paced Gerald’s office, hands behind his back. “We just need to finalize the small print.”

FMK Petroleum had been buying off the oil fields Royal Pipelines had their eyes on for months. The Fitzpatricks were just the type of people to squash any competition before it became a threat. Monopoly was the Fitzpatrick game of choice, no doubt about that.

I knew that there were congressmen who wanted to see Gerald and his sons go down in flames for setting the pace and rules for the oil industry. Especially the Texas folks. Nobody hated the Fitzpatricks more than the Texans.

The Irish, New England outsiders who took over the industry.

“Samuel, are you ready to go?” Gerald asked.

I nodded curtly.

“Their CEO won’t say no to the deal. I dug up too much dirt on him. By the time I’m done, he’ll be happy to sell you his shares for a fucking Costco membership.”

“That’s my boy.” Gerald smiled weakly.

Fuck you, old man.

The stab of rage I felt each time he called me “my boy” was enough to make me snap.

“In terms of the paperwork, we’ve done our due diligence,” Devon, who sat next to Hunter, added. “All that’s left is to hope the CEO has pull with the shareholders.”

We talked shop a few more minutes before everyone said their goodbyes, shook hands, and drifted out of the room. All of them except Gerald and me.

I waited until the front door to Gerald’s study was closed and the coast was clear—as clear as it could be. Nix had eavesdropped on me once in this house, and I didn’t trust her not to do it again. Hell, I didn’t trust her with a fucking Espresso machine. She was both an ally and an adversary, depending on the day. I suspected she wasn’t even home. I hadn’t seen her Prius when I parked in front of the house. It was likely she had a shift of whatever the fuck she did for a living—note to self: find out and torment her with it.

The memory of my fingers deep inside of her haunted me. It had been a few days, and I couldn’t even bury myself in another warm hole because every time I went to Badlands to look for one, all the other women in the vicinity came up short in comparison.

At least none of them had stirred anything below the belt.

“Oh, Sam …” Gerald rubbed his face tiredly, flipping through his books.

“That’s the point where I’m supposed to ask how you’re doing, right, Gerry?” I sat across from him, lighting a cigarette.

“It is.” His chin quivered. “And the answer is terrible. I am beside myself. I moved out of my marital bedroom.”

“Ah, the old doghouse,” I said dryly, unable to scrap an ounce of pity for the man.

“The doghouse is better than sharing a bed with a bitch. I don’t want to be anywhere near her. She goddamn nearly killed me, Sam. And the worst part is she is still denying it. Trying to poison me. Damn woman.”

The fact that everyone suspected Jane Fitzpatrick was the person who poisoned Gerald was a new development to me but one I welcomed nonetheless. I wanted to toy with the man, to mess with his psyche.

“Have you made the list yet?” I probed. “The faster we get to the bottom of this, the quicker we can move on from this.”

I was referring to the list of mistresses he’d kept over the years. I’d insisted on him confessing to every single one. For research purposes, of course. “Jealousy and desperation for money are key aspects in trying to mess with someone,” I explained.

“I did.” Gerald puffed his cheeks. “Three nights it took me. Doing this made me realize something, you know, son? It made me see that I’ve been spending most of my time with women but none of it with the woman I was married to. Such a sad state of affairs. Ironically, I won’t be giving Jane more attention