Broken Reign: Enemies-To-Lovers Romance

“I don’t know. It looks like a list of some sort.”

“Interesting. Let’s see what it says.”

Together, we look over the list to decipher its meaning. There are a few names on the list. The next page has lists of court cases. Fitzpatrick’s name is all over it.

Tobias looks over the page. “It looks like someone threw out a case and tried another one . . . over land.”

“Do you think this is the proof?

“It’s hard to say.” He is staring off into space. “But I think we are on to something.”

I lean back in my chair and toss my pencil on the table.

“I found it!” I scream a moment later.

“What is it?”

“Look.”

“Fitzpatrick had the original owner, a man by the name of Michael Laundry, arrested and tried for embezzlement. When the land went up for auction, Felix scooped it up. I wouldn’t put it past them if the case was bogus and completely fabricated.”

“We got him. That’s the connection. Felix couldn’t get the land without Fitzpatrick, but Fitzpatrick couldn’t clean up the city without Felix. He leverages that arrangement straight to the New York Attorney General’s office and then straight to the top.”

“Holy shit!”

“What?”

“Look at this.” Tobias passes me another folder. “It seems Felix kept evidence. Lots and lots of evidence.”

My fingers flip through pages, transcripts of phone calls. Screen shots of texts. It’s everything.

“He was probably blackmailing him.”

I’m still in shock. “We got him.”

I knew the encrypted files had to be important, but this is more than I expected

“We do.”

“Now what?” I ask.

“We need to come up with a plan. It’s not enough for us to know. We need to take him down.”

55

Skye

Despite how hard I try, I can’t help but feel nervous. I know I will be safe here, but I can’t help but feel that something might go wrong. What if I never have a chance to confront him? What if the computer doesn’t work? What if Jaxson didn’t set up the feed right?

It might be over the top to have all the evidence we’ve gathered playing during this celebration of the attorney general’s accomplishments, but Tobias thought this would hit him where it hurts the most.

His ego.

To me, it feels like my heart will burst out of my chest.

This isn’t like the last gala I attended. Yes, I’m dressed to the nines, wearing a long purple dress with a slit up the side that exposes my leg, my hair is done up, and long diamond earrings dangle down my neck. But this time, instead of searching for the person who killed my family, I’m about to take him down.

Tonight, the party is being held in a grand ballroom with a beautiful chandelier. It has floor-to-ceiling windows that look out into the city. It should take my breath away, and it usually does, but tonight, I can’t breathe enough to enjoy the sweeping views.

People are everywhere, some on the dance floor and some at tables. My gaze moves throughout the space, looking for my target. He’s standing at the far wall, talking to a group of people. Attorney General Fitzpatrick.

Walking into the crowded room, I head in his direction. As I walk, my skin pricks with awareness. My eyes dart around to find Tobias, and when I do, I almost falter. Our gazes lock. He looks at me so intently. The blue of his irises is not visible from this distance, but still, it would be easy to get lost in them.

He nods his head, a silent sign that he is here. Yet again, he’s making sure I’m okay. I nod back and continue toward the devil himself.

Making my approach, the attorney general sees me. He’s quick to smile and hold out his hand. Every part of me screams to pull away, but another part of me doesn’t want to give any hints. I want to see this bastard’s face as I serve the damning blow. So, I extend my hand and shake his, squeezing as hard as I can.

He eyes my hand curiously, pulling out of my death grip.

“How are you, Skye? I can’t imagine how hard it is to be here tonight after just losing your father.”

Inhale. Exhale.

“I’m okay,” I say with a fake smile. “It is very hard.”

“He was far too young to die,” he says in a concerned tone, shaking his head as though he gives a damn.

“Yes. He was. But there is one thing that came out of this . . .” I lead, and his forehead scrunches. “There is nothing like a dying man’s confession.” His face freezes at my words. “When you have nothing left, you want to absolve yourself of sin. Do you have anything to absolve?”

Fitzpatrick’s face turns a dark and angry shade of red. “This is highly unprofessional, dear.”

“I am not your dear. But now it’s your turn to pay.” I narrow my eyes and glare at him.