fifty-million-dollar loan to bail out Connor Vance’s logistics firm and pay off Harper’s fashion showroom lease defaults.”
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“Preston…” Harper sobbed, sinking to her knees beside the dining table, the diamonds glittering mockingly at her throat. “Preston, what did you do? You told me you had friends in the land registry office! You told me it was all completely legal!”
“Shut up, Harper!” Preston screamed, scrambling to his knees. His suave, country-club veneer was completely gone, exposing the feral, ugly panic of a cornered con artist. “You’re the one who