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Chapter 829:

He had assumed Cole Compton was his greatest obstacle. It had never occurred to him that before he even stepped onto the field, someone else would already be moving. Easton Hahn — that polished Wall Street attorney with his perpetually measured smile.

Crawford turned the name over in his mind, slowly, with quiet fury.

He watched them disappear through the revolving door into the bright lobby. A wave of heat shot through him. His fist came down hard against the leather seat.

The driver and assistant in front both flinched. “Sir?” the assistant asked carefully.

Crawford drew a long breath. When he spoke, his voice was as cold as the street outside. “Turn around p>

“Our destination p>

A thin, humorless smile touched Crawford’s lips. “Lucas’s club. I need a drink.” He picked up a second phone and dialed. “I want a full background check on Easton Hahn. Every case he’s working, every client, every dollar moving through his accounts. Everything p>

He hung up and leaned back, closing his eyes. But the image of June smiling at Easton had already burned itself in. He felt like a fool for abandoning a billion-dollar meeting to race back to New York.

The Rolls-Royce pulled silently from the curb and disappeared into the snow, leaving the street empty behind it.

Crawford’s Rolls-Royce stopped at the discreet back entrance of The Underworld in Tribeca. He bypassed the main entrance entirely, taking a private passage directly into the club’s inner sanctum.

𝘙еа𝘥 𝘄i𝘵h𝘰𝗎t i𝗇𝘁𝗲𝗿ruр𝘵i𝗼𝗻𝗌 𝗈𝘯

Lucas Romano was personally polishing a crystal tumbler behind the bar. He took one look at Crawford’s expression and raised an eyebrow. “What kind of bad news could make the Caesar of the media world look like that p>

Crawford said nothing. He sat at the bar, took the glass of twenty-five-year Macallan Lucas had just poured, and drained it in one swallow. The burn did nothing to touch the heat in his chest.

Lucas refilled it without a word. “Alright, talk. Who was stupid enough to cross you p>

“Easton Hahn,” Crawford said.

Lucas paused, then let out a quiet laugh. “The lawyer? What did he do — steal your deal, or steal your woman?” The second half of the question landed with obvious precision.

Crawford didn’t answer it. Instead he said, “You have the best information network in this city. Tell me the real story with June Erickson and Cole Compton.” He held Lucas’s gaze, needing to confirm what he already suspected — that Cole was truly out of the picture.

Lucas leaned against the bar. “What else would it be? The divorce was signed this afternoon, at Hahn’s firm. Cole left with nothing.” He paused. “Actually, my mistake. It was June who left with nothing p>

The tight line of Crawford’s jaw finally eased. The largest obstacle had been cleared.

“Word is it was an ugly scene,” Lucas continued. “Cole was stripped of his power by his grandmother. Old lady Eleanor is running the show at Compton Industries now p>

Crawford already knew about the Compton family’s internal fractures. He was more interested in June. “How is she p>

Lucas shrugged. “How else? She’s the most sought-after single woman in New York. And that Easton fellow you just mentioned — he was the first one to make a move p>