ric’s POV:


    My phone buzzed with iing messages. Even before I took it out of my pocket, I already knew what the messages would contain.


    Dirt.


    Dirt on the waiter who thought he could be smooth with my wife and sneak her his phone number with


    those damning words–No marriage is ever that serious.


    That still burned my chest whenever I thought about it.


    Just tossing the receipt into the trash wouldn’t have been nearly enough–I’d soaked it in vodka and


    watched the ink fade away before I left for work.


    And that was yesterday.


    “We’re here, sir,” West announced as I opened my phone to the messages from Trip. I paid no mind to him,


    instead choosing to focus on what I was looking at.


    And with every second that passed, a feeling of delight multiplied in my chest.


    The boy was a drug dealer. Not only that, but he had been arrested several months ago for selling his sick grandmother’s medication while she was on her deathbed.


    “Motherfucker,” I muttered under my breath.


    He was on parole, working for a family member who owned the restaurant, but that didn’t mean he had gone straight. He was still dealing. And if caught, he was going to spend a long fucking time in jail.


    My teeth scraped over my bottom lip.


    If I wanted to, I would bring down the entire establishment. And for a moment, I was tempted to do so.


    Fucking tempted.


    But Meadow’s voice was at the back of my fucking mind. She hadn’t said anything–had refused to speak to me, frankly–but I knew she’d feel guilty if I brought everyone down just for one fucking person.


    And normally, I wouldn’t give a shit.


    But I didn’t want to give her another reason to be pissed at me when I hadn’t even been able to fix what I did two nights ago.


    It’s why I was here.


    I dialed Trip’s number and he picked up on the first ring. “Sir, I sent you the files a few moments ago.”


    “Noticed,” I replied smoothly.


    “How would you like to proceed?”


    I shoved out a breath, rubbing my hand along my jaw. I couldn’t believe I was letting a little shit like this get to me. He couldn’t even be much older than Meadow and he had the fucking audacity to write her a note like that–even after seeing the ring on her finger.


    My jaw ticked. “Contact his parole officer and have him deal with it. Make sure he ends up back where he


    belongs.”


    I cut the call just as West cleared his throat.


    I arched a brow. “Problem, West?”


    He met my gaze in the rearview mirror, his eyes twinkling with mild amusement. “No, sir. Just that we’ve


    arrived.”


    I shot him a nk look and the amusement quickly faded from his eyes. He stepped out of the car,


    And then I stepped out.


    Above everything else, I hated that Meadow felt the need to demand my attention by stuffing the receipt


    into her bra. She didn’t need to beg for or demand my attention.


    She already had it. And she knew that. Which only further proved that something else was wrong.


    When I told her to ask me a question, I thought I was prepared to be asked anything. Anything at all. But I definitely wasn’t prepared for that.


    The only way Meadow would ask a question like that was if she waspletely sure that someone convinced me to release her sister<i>. </i>Or if she was manipted into believing it.


    By rissa.


    I knew from the moment that Meadow said she was out with her sister, that she was lying. I was keeping


    tabs on Juniper, and she wasn’t with Meadow that day.


    rissa must’ve contacted her and fed her with god–knows–what kind of fucking lies.


    “What’ll you have me do, sir?” West asked. “Should I-”


    “Wait here,” I said firmly, staring ahead at thevish building in front of me. “I won’t be long.”


    rissa’s boutique. The one she apparently wanted to hold an opening event for. It was huge, spacious. But I knew that it was all built on a lie.


    When I stepped inside, there were a few people setting things up. No shoppers. Not yet.


    “Oh!” a petite girl eximed politely, rushing over to where I stood. “I’m so sorry, sir, but we haven’t opened…” She trailed off, her eyes widening in recognition. “You’re… holy lord. Um…<i>” </i>She started to stutter and my jaw clenched in annoyance.


    “Maybe you’re not cut out for this job if you’re going to get flustered by every man who walks in here,” I muttered, narrowing my gaze at her. She swallowed, her neck turning red.


    “No, sir. It’s just… I didn’t think-”


    “Where’s your boss?” I cut in, feeling my patience running fucking thin.


    She perked up. “My manager? Or my…sorry,<i>” </i>she muttered when I fixed her with a nk stare. However,


    before I could open my mouth to berate her, rissa’s sickly sweet voice cut through the atmosphere.


    “Do we have our first customer already?” she asked. Her heels clicked against the floor, her chin high as


    she approached me.


    My jaw ticked. “Keep her employed and you might start losing customers before you even think of opening.”


    The girl gasped, and rissa smirked, lips red as always. “Always such a delight when you’re around.” She turned to the girl. “Go help the girls oversee things at the back. I’ll be in my office.”


    I shoved my hands into my pockets as rissa faced me again, the smirk ever still present. I narrowed my gaze at her and she shrugged. “You don’t want outsiders listening in on our business, ric, do you? And from what I can <i>see</i>, you have a lot to say to me.”


    Oh, I had more than a fucking lot to say. But she was right–somewhere more private would be better. Wordlessly, I followed her to the office. And only when the door waspletely shut behind me did I allow my patience to snap.


    “What the fuck did you say to her?”