Rise (Rise & Fall Duet #1) - Grahame Claire Page 0,41
head toward Eric. “When?”
“A couple of weeks ago. I gave them to the mailman.”
“Why would you do that?” I whispered.
How? How had he known where to send them?
“I thought it might cheer them up.”
I closed my eyes. I’d worked so hard to make sure he never thought about them. I didn’t bring them up. I pretended as if they’d never existed, and he’d seemed to have let them go.
I should’ve known better.
Eric just didn’t talk about them because he was hyper-sensitive to the fact that it distressed me.
“Please don’t do that again,” I choked out.
“Why?”
We’d been through it over and over right after they left. They weren’t good people. They were dangerous to us.
“Because they’re bad—”
“Bad people need to smile too.”
I put an arm around him. “Oh, Eric.”
I leaned my head against his. How was I supposed to argue with him about that? Maybe they did deserve a morsel of happiness. I just wasn’t a big enough person to be the one to give it to them.
I would not forgive them.
Period.
“I made you sad.” He hung his head.
“No, bow tie. You didn’t.” I patted his shoulder. “Please don’t do that again without telling me though.”
“Okay,” he said agreeably. “Did Lincoln text?”
I’d taken to keeping my phone on silent in case our father called again. I didn’t have to look to know the answer. “No.”
Just another person who had disappointed Eric. I needed to be more careful.
His expression turned determined. Certain. “He will.”
I appreciated his faith in humanity, but that was one lesson I’d never learn from my brother.
People always let us down.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lincoln
“You purchased a sixty-million-dollar apartment without a title search?”
Kane Zegas set his glasses down on his desk. I had a team of lawyers on retainer who were good, but they weren’t Zegas.
“I ordered a title search. Paid for a title search. The company didn’t perform it, although they sent me paperwork declaring otherwise.” I leaned back in the chair and willed the pounding in my head to stop.
“But you’re only now finding out about it?” He might as well have added idiot to the end of the question.
“I presume when I hire someone to do work, they do it competently.” I glared.
He pointed at me. “That’s your problem. Never presume.” He picked up his glasses and twirled them. “I presumed my wife wanted to marry me for my sparkling personality. I can assure you that’s a mistake I won’t make again.”
Zegas had a sparkly personality?
“Why would you think anyone likes your personality, let alone enough to marry you because of it?” Patrick Whitley strode into the office and tossed his briefcase on Zegas’s desk.
He grumbled something unintelligible.
“And can one of you please explain why you believe I’m still practicing criminal defense?” Whitley dropped into the chair beside me. “What are they trying to nail you with now?”
“I am not a criminal.”
It was the first time I’d denied any of the potential charges against me.
Whitley grinned. “But now you’re talking like one.” He wagged his finger.
Perhaps I should’ve contacted my usual attorneys first.
“Get a load of this, Whitley.” Zegas smirked. “This guy bought a shit-ton of property without a proper title search and now it’s come to light a lot of it ain’t clear.”
Whitely looked at me incredulously. “I thought you were the premier property expert behind your father.”
I pressed my lips together. “I am,” I said through gritted teeth.
“How’d you figure out they screwed you?” Zegas asked.
“City attorney gave me a courtesy call.” If it could be called as such. After spending a few hours in his office, I’d determined much of my personal portfolio of properties as well as many company holdings were potentially in jeopardy.
“What tipped them off?” Whitley angled toward me.
“I’m not sure, but they have an entire room of filing cabinets they’re checking into.” Over half were my properties.
“Ooh. Class action suit.” Whitley rubbed his hands together. “I’ve never handled one of those.”
“Thanks for dropping a gold mine in our lap,” Zegas said. “But we’re still charging you for fixing this mess.”
Money. It was always about the money.
“Fine. Just make sure I keep my holdings.”
“You’re a greedy bastard.” Whitley glared at Zegas.
“You know I don’t have the time or inclination to get involved with a class action suit.” Zegas shuffled a stack of papers on his desk. “I need the records of all properties you used that company to do title searches on.” He considered a moment. “It might be beneficial if you provide records of all properties so we can prove you did