Chapter 24

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Edward tore out the article from the day’s newspaper and crumbled it as his breathing took a heavy and sizzle turn.

Thea Collins was the weapon he was using against his nemesis.
She was the spy he wanted and she had willingly agreed to serve his purpose until the tables turned and his pawn had tasted nothing but a downfall.

Thea was working as one of the important managers in Morrison’s empire and she had been recently fired for being caught in a scandal with a politician's son. It had been all over the local news and Edward couldn’t pinpoint the possibility of her involvement in any way. The sole reason he had reached out to her in the first place was her lack of connection. In the crowd, she was those kinds of nobody who tries to make it through the day.

But now nothing more could be done. Even though Thea’s wasn’t fired because of her real intention, but Edward was aware that Morrison knew about the presence of a spy and according to Thea, he was so close to figuring that out.  

“Care to explain?” Mr. Blake demanded the minute he stepped into the living room, the paper ball he had held slipped inside the pocket of his pants.

Edward shot his brows up, then rolling them down at the sheets of paper lying on the table in front of Mr. Blake. It was the look on his face that warned Edward that he had another dirt to dig at him. It was how a normal conversion took place when no one was around.

“You have to be more specific about that, ” he shot back.

“You have a penthouse in Kingston Avenue?”

He refrained from giving any instant reaction for so many reasons.

Mr blame continued. “You have been disappearing from time to time. I ought to check what are you up to.”

“It’s just a penthouse!” he stated in a tedious tone. “Sure, I can have one.”

“Without me knowing.” His father accused him as he stayed silent. Edward had predicted this piece of information was bound to come out sooner or later even though the payment of the place was almost nothing compared to the expenses they had. “Are you seeing a woman, Edward?”

“No, ”

“You sure?” the glint in his eyes told Edward he knew. He fucking knew.

“Dad, what's a big deal about it. I sometimes bring women to blow off steam.”

“Like a particular blonde?”

Blonde? What Blonde? Estella’s brunette.

Mr. Blake slipped his hand inside the jacket. Few photographs flashed in his hands as he displayed them on the table. It wasn't Estella he was talking about. Cramped in photographs was Thea next to him in the same restaurant he had been with her a few days ago. Infuriated, Edward glanced up at him.

Sensing what his son was wanting to ask, Mr. Blake replied. “This is not the first time I had you watched. I had to know if you have been planning my murder with someone.”

“You could have asked.”

“I don’t ask. I do as I please,” he said in a flat and motionless voice. Shrugging, he adjusted on his couch as he picked one photograph of Thea and faced that to his son. “The evening these pictures were taken was the same night she had been all over the internet. So tell me, Edward, why this Morrison’s whore was doing with you. Is she your—”

“I don’t like blondes. I hate’em.”

Mr. Blake stood up swiftly and motioned toward him. His grey eyes were bleak. “Like a certain blonde, Nicholas Morrison.”

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