The Ruthless Gentleman - Page 89

I sucked in a deep breath. “Thank you, sir.”

Tomorrow I’d be on the way home to my family. I was ready to shut the chapter on the promise of love and happiness and to accept my future.

Thirty-Four

Hayden

Landon had tracked down the guy in the photographs. Why the bloody hell he wouldn’t meet us in London, I had no idea. I was paying him enough. It had been a nearly two-hour drive out to Essex. I hoped it would be worth it. I bowed my head as I entered the dark, old-fashioned pub. An inglenook fireplace that had horse brasses pinned to its breast stood at one end and a bar at the other. This place hadn’t seen a paintbrush in a thousand years.

I scanned the room and caught sight of my brother. I paused and slid my eyes to his companion sitting opposite him. The familiar stranger’s hair didn’t look so ginger in the dim light of the small-windowed room.

“Hello,” I said as I pulled out a chair.

“Good, you’re here,” my brother said, stating the obvious. “I’ve got you a beer.” I glanced at the three pint glasses on the table filled with different shades of brown liquid. I hadn’t had a beer since I’d left university. I preferred a good whiskey, but alcohol wasn’t the thing I was focused on. “You’ll recognize Phil from the photographs. As I said to you on the phone, he was a hired hand for Cannon, not an employee.”

“I work for the highest bidder, simple as that,” Phil said. His accent was non-distinct, and he matched the tone, looked as if he would blend into a crowd.

Phil seemed ready to launch into an explanation of his life story, but my brother interrupted him. “It seems he doesn’t know a hell of a lot, so I’m not sure what use he’s going to be.”

When we’d uncovered Gerald’s treachery, I’d ordered a full security check on all senior members of my staff. I was satisfied there would be no more leaks, but for me, it wasn’t over. Not yet. And not because Cannon wasn’t going to be held to account. I’d been clear I didn’t want to press charges against them or Gerald. I wanted the rot cut out and the focus back on being the best at what I did. I’d claimed my power back, kept my investors happy and bought Phoenix. I wasn’t out for revenge. The best way I could get my own back was by being successful despite Cannon’s best efforts to ruin me as they had my father.

But it wasn’t over. Not quite. We’d not managed to trace the payments into Avery’s—or any of her family’s—bank account. And if that money never showed up, I would always have a doubt in the back of my mind. I was sure I would replay our conversation where I confronted her about the phone and the photographs again and again and again. It had been three months, but the memory was fresh as if it were yesterday. I was fighting an internal war, where I changed sides every time I thought back to that conversation. Should I have believed her? I needed certainty to shut down any memory I ever had of Avery Walker.

As the money hadn’t shown up, unless I confronted Cannon’s board, who would simply deny the entire mess, then the only person who could confirm Avery’s guilt was Phil. I needed closure, because thoughts of Avery Walker were haunting me. I’d tried everything I could to bleach my mind of her, but despite the long hours, the booze and training as if I was trying to make the Olympic team, I still yearned for her. I’d assumed being with other women would help, but for some reason I couldn’t do it. Since leaving the yacht, I’d made do with my fist and some bad porn.

I nodded. “Let’s see,” I told Landon. I wanted to hear exactly what had happened from the horse’s mouth. I had nothing to lose at this point. “Phil, I’m going to pay you a lot of money and in return, I want to hear about all your dealings with Cannon, directly or indirectly, and from the beginning. If I find out you’ve lied to me or spared me the truth or misled me in any way . . . Well,” I said, glancing at my brother. “I know some very dangerous men. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?” I’d never resorted to physical violence or even threats of physical violence before. Even at school, I always left that to my brother, but I’d never been so serious. Up until now the evidence had been compelling but circumstantial. I wanted certainty when it came to Avery Walker.

Phil shrugged. “Like I said, I’m a gun for hire. And like you said, you’re paying me a lot of money.”

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