Chapter 115
Chapter 115:
Justin swirled his whiskey slowly, watching his younger brother. “You look frustrated p>
“She put the wall back up,” Gaston admitted, drawing on his cigar. Smoke curled lazily around his face.
“You rushed it,” Justin said, with a quiet laugh. “She thinks you’re a playboy, remember? Or worse — she thinks you’re playing for the other team. You can’t sleep with her and expect her to rewrite her entire reality overnight p>
“I’m not playing,” Gaston said, his eyes dark and steady. “I’m going to marry her. For real. No contracts. No end dates p>
Justin raised an eyebrow. “Does she know that p>
“Not yet. I need to clear the obstacles first,” Gaston said. “She has too many people trying to tear her down. She can’t see me clearly when she’s constantly looking over her shoulder p>
“Speaking of obstacles,” Justin said, setting his glass down with a measured click. “Kieran Douglas is sniffing around. My sources say he’s hired a PI p>
Gaston’s eyes narrowed. “Let him sniff. He’ll find a wolf p>
Back at the penthouse, Jocelyn’s phone buzzed on the coffee table.
It was a text from Aaden.
𝘙о𝗆aո𝘤𝘦 𝗮n𝖽 𝗉a𝘴𝗌𝗂𝘰n 𝘰ո.с𝘰𝗺
Auntie Joss! Can we go to the LEGO store on Saturday? Please please please?
Jocelyn smiled, and for the first time all day, the tension in her shoulders began to melt.
Of course, buddy, she typed back.
Can Uncle G come? Aaden asked.
Jocelyn hesitated. She looked around the empty apartment. Gaston wasn’t home yet.
No, she typed. Just us. Girls’ rule… well, you know what I mean.
Kieran Douglas sat in his office, staring at his phone. The screen was dark.
His assistant entered, looking nervous. “Sir, the flowers you sent to the Wolfe Hotel were returned p>
Kieran clenched his jaw. “Trash them p>
He rose from his chair and began to pace. “She must have a new backer. That husband of hers,” he concluded. “He’s funding her confidence p>
He stopped and turned to the assistant. “Find out if the marriage is real. Dig into his past partners. I want names. I want dirty laundry p>
Across town, Jocelyn sat at her desk holding a manila envelope. Inside were printed photographs.
Harvey had proven to be a surprisingly effective private investigator. Working through a network of off-duty security guards and hotel staff from across the city who owed him favors, he had gathered exactly what Jocelyn needed in less than a day. Sloane and Vincent kissing in a private dining room. Sloane trying on a diamond necklace while Vincent looked on. Sloane laughing with Vincent at their usual table at Le Bernardin.
“Disgusting,” Jocelyn whispered.
She pulled on a pair of latex gloves from the cleaning supply kit — she would not be leaving fingerprints. She slid the photos into a fresh envelope, typed a label, and printed it out: For Mrs. Lily Wolfe. Personal & Confidential.
“Harvey,” she called.
Harvey appeared in the doorway.
“Mail this from a box in Queens,” she instructed, handing him the envelope. “Not here. Not anywhere near the hotel p>