The Love of Money II
Copyright© 2025 by MindSketch
Chapter 31: Unfinished Business
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 31: Unfinished Business - Marcus and the others are no longer just surviving the world—they’re shaping it. Erin has always known what she wants. Now she’s orchestrating it. Helen is learning that submission isn’t surrender. Bobbi, stripped of her old identity, stands at a crossroads. New women cross his path. Old ones return. Some hand him their heart. Some, a leash. Some, a knife in the back. And then there are the ones waiting for him to stumble. It's hard to rest when you have a target painted on your back.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Coercion Consensual NonConsensual Reluctant Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Rags To Riches BDSM DomSub MaleDom FemaleDom Light Bond Rough Sadistic Spanking Group Sex Harem Orgy Interracial Black Female White Female Oriental Female Indian Female Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Exhibitionism Facial Massage Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy Sex Toys Squirting Voyeurism Big Breasts Small Breasts Slow Violence
Saturday, September 14th, 10:47 pm
My back slammed against the hotel door before I even had the chance to turn. Natalie’s lips crushed against mine. Her scent filled my head as her tongue delved deep before I could even process what she was doing. My skull rang from the blow against the dark paneling.
“Mmmhh,” she groaned against me.
Natalie’s hands slid up my shoulders and clamped to either side of my face, holding me in a vise as she tried to devour me.
Not one to be outdone, I threw myself into the fray. My fingers found the silk keeping her dress in place, fumbling at the knot until it came loose. She murmured incoherently into my mouth as her fingers knotted in my hair, pulling hard.
The sash slipped free, silk unraveling in my hand. One tug sent the fabric spilling aside, and I cupped her breast. Warm and full, firm but yielding, it filled my palm.
I’d seen them before—once. Not long after I inherited the money, Natalie and I had made out in her office. Things had just started to get interesting when Phoebe called, telling me my apartment had been broken into. I’d never gotten further with her. She started dating Tyler soon after.
I never thought I’d be here now.
I pressed on her chest just enough to break the kiss, my hand sliding along the curve of her waist. The other side of her dress shifted loose, barring almost everything she had to offer. I took a long, hungry look at my prize.
The dress hung from her shoulders like a robe, falling down her curves, pooling around her heels. Beneath it, she wore a lacy lingerie set ... champagne silk and delicate straps. It lifted her breasts, pushed them together, teased just enough with lace to hint at the dark centers beneath. Her panties matched—wet, darkened fabric marking just how well the date had gone. The outfit was finished with a garter belt and stockings.
Goddamn, Erin. You fucking outdid yourself.
She stood there looking up at me, dark eyes wide, chest heaving, lips parted. Her pink tongue grazed her lower lip as though she could still taste me.
“Marcus...” That was all she said. My name.
I yanked my shirt over my head and tossed it aside. Then I crashed into her, ripping the dress from her arms and throwing it to the floor. My arms circled her waist, hauling her off the ground.
A desperate whimper broke from her as she wrapped her legs around my waist and clung to my neck. She kissed me again, hungrier than before, inhaling my breath as though it were hers. I returned it, tongues dueling, as I staggered toward the bed.
My knees hit the side of the bed, and I dropped her onto the down comforter. Our lips tore apart as she squealed, her legs still clamped around my waist. She flung her arms above her head, dark hair spilling like a chaotic halo.
Her eyes traveled down my chest, my stomach, to my belt buckle—then back up to meet mine.
“Fuck, Marcus. I didn’t know you were so fit.”
I glanced down at myself. I’d never thought of my body that way, but I had changed over the last six weeks. The soft edges were gone; the love handles had melted. I wasn’t where I wanted to be yet, but the definition was coming along nicely.
For once, I felt like it was my turn to blush.
Natalie grinned, wrapping her legs tighter around my waist, grinding her damp crotch against my groin.
“Marcus?” she whispered.
She didn’t need to say more.
Her legs slid from my waist as I unbuckled my belt and shoved my pants down in one motion, kicking off socks with them.
Now I stood before her, naked. Her gaze raked me up and down, lingering on the rigid length already pulsing with need. The head throbbed, slick with pre-cum. My heartbeat drummed in my cock.
Her eyes climbed to mine, and she bit her lip as her hand wrapped around me. With the other, she hooked the soaked crotch of her panties and pulled it aside.
For the first time, I saw her bare. A neat patch of hair above smooth lips, glistening with arousal. She slipped her middle finger inside herself with a soft, wet sound.
Her eyes fluttered shut as her head rolled back, throat arched.
“Nnnnghh...”
A low moan spilled as her finger slid in and out, her breasts straining against the lingerie I’d chosen for her. She looked at me through half-lidded eyes and gave my cock a teasing tug.
Message received.
I placed my hands gently on the insides of her thighs. The silk stockings under my palms were smooth and decadent, but not what I wanted. My fingers drifted lower, drawn toward the treasure waiting between them.
The tips of my fingers brushed the edge of her stockings, then found her bare skin—soft, hot, better than any fabric. Heat radiated from her core, enough to melt ice in seconds. Dampness clung to the spots where thigh met groin, a slick testament to her need.
She tugged on me again, more insistent this time.
“We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”
I leaned forward, bracing my hands on either side of her. Slowly, deliberately, I pressed my hips forward until the head of my cock nudged against something impossibly hot and wet.
“Can I have a taste?” I murmured.
Natalie grinned, lifting the finger she’d just had inside herself and holding it out to me.
I studied it, glistening with her juices. The scent was intoxicating—clean, sharp ... hers. My mouth watered.
She pressed her finger to my lips, and I opened them just enough to let her in. My tongue rolled over her skin, savoring her taste, already regretting that I hadn’t done this sooner. I sucked her finger clean, every drop of nectar, while my cock mirrored the act—sliding between her soaked lips.
She was so wet I sank into her in one thrust.
Natalie gasped, her lips parting, her eyes going wide as I buried myself to the hilt.
“Oh, fuck, Marcus!”
I spat Natalie’s finger out and reached for one of her bra cups, pulling it down to capture a dark brown nipple in my mouth. She squealed, her hands wrapping behind my head, fingers digging into my scalp.
I moved to the other breast, peeling the cup down before teasing that nipple with my tongue and teeth. Her back arched into me, her hips grinding against mine as I stayed buried deep inside her.
And then I started to truly make love to her. To Natalie. The woman I’d spent a year longing for.
I worked myself in and out of her, slow and deliberate, kissing my way down the center of her chest. My lips explored the deep ravine between her tits—the spot I’d stolen glances at for hours when I thought she wasn’t looking.
I traced upward, between her collarbones, across the hollow of her throat, up the smooth caramel skin of her neck. I mapped her jawline with lips and teeth, my tongue tasting, sampling, indulging in all the things I’d once only fantasized about—things that would have sent me to HR if I’d dared back then.
And she gave it all back. Her legs stayed locked around my waist, keeping me buried inside her, but she devoured me as hungrily as I did her. Her lips wandered over my cheeks, my neck, my shoulders, until they found mine again. We ate each other alive, kissing, gasping, panting as I thrust into her dripping heat. Her juices ran down my cock, coating my thighs. Her scent filled the air—thick, intoxicating, as overwhelming as the smell of bacon curling off a skillet in the morning, only far dirtier, far more primal.
There’s no way to make it sound prettier than it was: our first fuck was raw ... intense ... hungry.
We rode the knife-edge between making love and animal frenzy. She couldn’t keep her lips off me. I couldn’t keep my hands off her. Her eyes gleamed with overdue desire, her shallow breaths shuddering in the thick haze of our lust.
Natalie came hard. Her nails clawed into my back, scoring fire down my spine as she clung to me. She buried her face against my neck, murmuring things I couldn’t understand. Moisture traced my jawline—I couldn’t tell if it was sweat or tears.
Her hips kept pumping against me, chasing every aftershock of the climax I’d given her. And before the tremors even ended, another ripped through her.
“Oh my God! Oh my God! Marcus! Marcus! Oh God!”
She clung like she was afraid to lose me. When her lips found mine again, I tasted salt—tears mixed with sweat.
I propped myself up on my elbows, thrusting feverishly as I kissed her face—her lips, her nose, her eyes. I brushed hair back from her forehead and laid a trail of kisses across it.
“Oh, god,” she whispered as she lifted her face, trying to kiss my lips but getting my chin instead. “You’re so much...”
I lowered my lips to hers again, reveling in what I’d longed to feel for so long. The speed of my thrusts increased as I lost myself in her...
And blew my load deep inside her just in time to feel another orgasm rip through her.
We both cried out as release washed over us—her tearing my back to ribbons while I carved out her insides with a cock that wouldn’t go soft.
It was a long fucking night.
The next day was even longer.
Monday, September 16th, 11:45 am
I slapped the thick manila folder on the table. Thick enough to qualify as a small-town phone book, it landed with a thud that startled everyone else in the room.
Accounts receivable. Accounts Payable. Depreciation. Discretionary budgets. Equity. Quarterly returns. If I had to look at another goddamn accounting statistic, I was going to slit my wrists and give myself a blood deficit. It was all I could do to keep my eyes from crossing.
“You okay?” Vikram asked, peering at me from over his laptop.
I’d asked Chandler and Erin to gather as much information as possible on Sunday so we could take a look at the books first thing Monday morning and see if we could get some answers. Two very prominent people had threatened to go public with the information they had on the Gerrard estate, and I’d been foolish to go this long without fully understanding what was in my portfolio.
Not that I could simply pull up a spreadsheet and see it all. I’d been warned that Colin Gerrard Sr. had a complex, highly compartmentalized company structure, but now that I was getting a good look at it all, I was starting to see just how intricate the web really was.
There were so many accounts! Money would flow into one, transfer to another, then that money would split and go into two more. Follow one trail only to find out that it was a shell corporation in Ireland. Who was the executive there? Some guy I had never heard of with a phone number that didn’t work.
Rinse and repeat.
It was the largest metaphorical cluster of tangled Christmas lights I’d ever seen.
We’d set up in one of VistaVision’s largest conference rooms. The massive table was littered with file folders and the boxes they came in. Laptops rested along the edges so we could verify some of the old data while examining the new data for the companies that had since gone fully digital. They were all manned by lawyers provided by YPV and forensic accountants recommended by Erin and Psalter.
“Nope,” I responded to Vikram’s question, leaning back in my chair. We’d been doing this for over three and a half hours without a break, and as someone who hadn’t looked at financials for well over two months, I was getting rusty. “This is frustrating as hell.”
“Colin had to have people managing all this,” Erin said without looking up from her laptop. “But all I could find were in-house money-crunchers who didn’t know anything outside their lanes. Even the ones here...”
Chandler swatted away a folder and sat down on one of the corners of the conference room, a cup of hot tea in his hand like the walking stereotype of a Brit he was. “While I don’t doubt Erin’s capabilities, Marcus, I daresay I’ve done almost everything humanly possible to account for every penny associated with VistaVision. I’ve gone much further than what is typical for the sake of thoroughness.”
“Same on our end,” Vikram said. “There’s a lot of money that we can’t account for that we’ve put into what’s become known as the ‘Roger VanCamp bucket.’” He made air quotes with his fingers as he said it. “Every time we have an unanswered question, it all goes there. Apparently, he’s been at this for a while. We’re finding big question marks that go back years.”
“How do they get away with shady shit equaling billions of dollars?” I asked.
“Companies like VistaVision and Gerrard Holdings are siloed,” Chandler said. “Departments use software that other departments don’t use ... have budgets that are approved through department heads that don’t necessarily know what other departments’ budgets are. No one person can be aware of what all departments are doing at all times in a company this big. A few inscrutable people in key positions would be allowed to get away with so much, as long as they exercised a bit of caution.”
“People like my grandpa and Roger VanCamp,” I concluded.
“Yeah,” Vikram said. “It’s the same with YVP. I have no idea what goes on over in injury law. I just mind my own business.”
“Precisely,” Chandler said. “Only, in this case, it was less your grandfather and more his children.
I eyed Chandler for a long moment until he started to look a little uncomfortable.
“Hey, guys,” I finally said to everyone. How about you take an early lunch and give us the room? Chandler, you stay. You too, Vikram.”
The rest of the law and accounting nerds looked around at each other like they were suddenly worried that their jobs were on the line, but then they slowly gathered their things to leave—except for those I asked to remain.
Erin stayed as well. My assistant continued typing away on her laptop as if she hadn’t heard anything I’d said, already aware that she was meant to stay.
Chloe did the same, still leaning back in her chair with her phone in front of her. Her golden-brown eyes peered from under her eyebrows, dispassionately watching all the people getting up to file out of the conference room.
Eventually, it was empty of everyone except the five of us.
“Okay,” I said, spinning in my chair to look at Chandler. “I’ve heard enough to get the gist of what happened, but I’m gonna need you to lay out as much of the family history as you can.”
It was long past due for me to get a full recounting of the Gerrard family drama that had led to death, prison, and estrangement. Unfortunately, anyone in the family who could give me that recounting wanted nothing to do with me, so Chandler was the best I had.
“I see,” Chandler said, “And where precisely would you like me to start?”
“The Kelly Madison shit,” I said. “Apparently, everything came to a head when she was fired, including the death of Michael Haley.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about the specific reason Kelly was let go,” Chandler said carefully, “but I suspect that Colin discovered she was going behind his back.”
“Like, stealing money?”
“I assumed it was something as simple as that,” Chandler mused, “but roughly a year and a half ago, your grandfather said something I thought quite curious. We were in the middle of a legal dispute with another company while apparently having a non-compete agreement with one of their competitors. I recall him muttering to himself that he wished he’d kept it in his pants. I think he was referring to Kelly Maddox.”
“So, they were having an affair?”
“Anyone working closely with Colin knew it was happening,” Chandler scoffed. “Kelly Maddox was his worst-kept secret. Your grandfather was a master at keeping things close to his chest, but she didn’t share his talent.”
“And that was enough to tip you off that Kelly was dipping her hand in the cookie jar?”
Chandler huffed. “Not stealing so much as making deals and decisions behind his back that he wouldn’t have approved of. You see, after that comment, I went back to look at some old irregularities and found enough to justify my suspicions. Not that it mattered ... by that point, Kelly was long gone.”
“And she was able to get away with it because of silos?”
“And she had the help of his son.”
“My dad?”
Chandler shook his head. “I don’t know what role your father played in subverting Colin’s authority, if any. I’m referring to Logan.”
“The one in prison for murdering Michael?”
“Yes. Colin put a lot of faith in your uncle.” Chandler shook his head, looking a little sad. “They were so much alike, those two. They looked alike ... had the same mannerisms ... the same temperament...”
“What did he do in the company?”
“Well, he was training to take over the empire one day. Colin insisted on making him the Chief Operating Officer for Dynistat—another of Colin’s companies specializing in research and development in computer hardware. I suspect that’s where the rot began in the Gerrard conglomerate.”
“But you don’t know for sure,” I said.
“Anytime I broached the subject of possible corruption, Colin would tell me to butt out,” Chandler said, looking mildly offended. “He would say things like, ‘Mind your own store, and let me worry about the rest.’ He was a terribly proud man.”
Chloe snorted, reminding me that she worked for him near the end of his life. She’d also mentioned that he could be stubborn and mean.
“Anyway,” Chandler continued. “That was years ago. I simply let it lie and continued to focus on where I was needed—here.”
“So, when she was fired...”
“Yes! Many of us felt it was a long time coming! Only when she was removed from her office, Colin replaced her with his son-in-law. Up until then, Michael oversaw VistaVision’s theme park division, which had resulted in the most profitable three-year streak that still stands to this day. Colin was so impressed that he decided to move Michael into a position with more responsibility, helping him manage the entire estate—Gerrard Holdings.”
I couldn’t help but wonder how Logan felt about Michael getting to work so close to his father. That kind of position had to come with all sorts of perks.
“Things went well for about three months, and then everything fell apart. Michael was found in bed with an intern from VistaVision. Both had been murdered—a nasty bit of business.”
Helen had been the one first to mention the murder, but it was in passing. Getting more of the details made it seem more real, though. I’d heard that my grandpa was a hard man, and I’d witnessed Tyler’s asshole behavior firsthand. To think some of my family was capable of murder, though...
“Logan was arrested the same day, and it came to light that he had been responsible for selling hardware for new guidance missiles to The People’s Dawn.”
I leaned forward in my chair. “What’s that?”
“A terrorist organization masquerading as a liberation group for some country in Africa. The chips were confiscated by the government and reverse engineered. Within a year, we received word that the technology had made its way into the Near East and Russia. Three months after that, they were used against American strategic assets.”
Chandler’s jaw tightened, clearly affected by the memory. “The technology produced in our labs had been used against our own countrymen. I even knew one of them. Attending his funeral was ... difficult.”
Feeling a little sick at inheriting this kind of legacy, I sat back in my chair. How the hell had Colin managed to recover from something like that? Had he suffered any sort of major fallout?
Did the government have my name?
Well, of course, they had my name, but did they have it for more reasons than I’d originally thought? “Jesus...”
“Indeed,” Chandler said somberly. “Things might have been much worse had Michael not approached Colin with his findings.”
“So, Logan sold the tech, Michael found out, and Logan killed him?”
“Well,” Chandler said, “that’s the official story. Colin wanted to go after Kelly, but the only evidence we could find on Michael’s death was linked to his son, so Logan went to prison, and Kelly remained free.”
“How was she able to just walk in here and vote in that board meeting, considering everything?”
“Because she has powerful friends,” Chandler said. “Tanaka respected Colin, but they cooled to each other. Kelly Maddox also commanded his respect but was also more willing to compromise than Colin. It made her preferable to work with for people like Hiro Tanaka, Rajesh Desai, Daniel Hahn, Torman Håkansson...”
“Daniel Hahn?” That was the first time I heard that name.
“Yes. He owned roughly ... two percent of VistaVision, I believe. He also owned small percentages in a few other companies under your grandfather’s estate.”
“What happened to his shares?”
“Bought out by Brantwood Holdings.” Chandler looked unhappy. “There used to be many more investors with significant shares of VistaVision. Brantwood bought out many of them.”
“The company that Amber Bell represented, right?”
“The very same.”
“Isn’t that a little suspicious?”
Chandler shrugged. “Not particularly. Many investment firms take an interest in successful companies and look for any opportunity to buy more. They’re not the only ones. Tanaka bought out someone from Mexico, and the twins managed to double their shares.”
I nodded, not completely convinced, but something else was bothering me— bringing up Amber’s name had sparked another thought. “Chandler, do you know a ... Phillip...”
I couldn’t remember the entire name and looked to Erin and Chloe for help.
“Phillip Castor,” Erin said, pulling the name from her perfect memory.
“That’s the one.” I glanced back at Chandler.
Chandler’s expression grew thoughtful as he mused over the name. “Phillip Castor...”
He walked over to his computer and began tapping away.
“Who’s Phillip Castor?” Vikram asked.
“A guy murdered last month in a minimum-security prison,” I said.
Vikram’s brow furrowed. “What does that have—”
“Ah!” Chandler looked at me over the spectacles he’d donned while searching his computer. “There was an accounting contractor by the name of Phillip Castor working for Gerrard Holdings for a few years!”
My heart skipped a beat, and I jumped to my feet.
Some goddamn fucking answers...
“What does Phillip Castor have to do with anything?” I finished Vikram’s question. “A hell of a lot, considering Amber Bell killed him.”
“Excuse me?” Chandler asked, bewildered.
“We can’t know that for sure,” Chloe said.
The touch of exasperation in her voice irritated me. “She fucking kidnapped and interrogated me, so I know what she’s capable of. She was identified at the prison where Castor died ... on the day he died. Of course she did it!”
Chloe shrugged. I wanted to hurl that phonebook-like folder at her. Instead, I turned my attention back to Chandler.
“What are the odds that something was on that drive she wanted—the one they kidnapped from the Catskills home. Like ... shadow records or something?”
Chandler eyed me skeptically. “Shadow records? As in, a secret ledger?”
I looked at him expectantly.
“I mean, it’s possible that a secret ledger was stored on a flash drive. I’m not very knowledgeable regarding encryption or cyber security, but I also recall using flash drives as a kind of key for accessing secure computers.”
“Okay,” I said, “So ... recap. Kelly works with Logan to get rich by taking advantage of the company’s size. She uses her closeness to Colin and his trust in Logan to enrich herself. There’s some kind of paper trail. Colin figures out what’s going on and fires Kelly.”
I looked to Chandler. He nodded.
“Okay, so Kelly gets fired and Michael Haley is hired in her place because of his track record?”
“Yes. Logan was considered, but Michael had years of experience, and I believe Colin had learned his lesson regarding hiring based on feelings over actual qualifications.”
“So,” Erin said, “Haley gets Kelly’s old position and notices something is going on ... he does some digging, finds more stuff he doesn’t like—”
“Michael and Colin did have some heated arguments,” Chandler said. “He was famously one of the only ones who could successfully stand up to the old man.”
“Disputes over what?” I asked.
Chandler shook his head. “It was rare to know the details. Colin’s pride kept their conversations quiet. They may have had their disagreements at times, but Colin had a lot of respect for Michael, and Michael returned it. Outside of those private moments, they kept a united front.”
“Okay,” I said. “Michael finds more evidence, possibly implicating Logan, and Colin doesn’t want to hear it. Michael is eventually murdered...” I looked toward Chandler.
“Only a few months after filling Kelly’s position,” Chandler answered.
“Wow ... okay. He’s killed, and Logan ends up in prison. Do you know what the evidence was that tied Logan to the death?”
Chandler shook his head. “I’m afraid not—Colin and his pride.”
I glanced at Vikram, who gave me a vacant look.
“Oh, I wouldn’t bother,” Chandler said, aware that I was considering whether YVP could provide any answers.
I felt my shoulders slump. “Colin didn’t use his regular lawyers for all this, did he?”
Chandler simply sighed.
“Jesus Christ, Colin Gerrard,” I muttered. “So, why was Castor in prison?”
“I couldn’t tell you,” Chandler admitted. “Until a few minutes ago, I was unaware of his existence.”
I huffed, unsatisfied with the answers I had. Granted, it was more than when I first walked through these doors this morning, but still ... for a guy with an entire staff working for him, Colin Gerrard managed to keep so many secrets.
“What about Nina?” I asked.
“Oh,” Chandler said. “I never really spoke to her about any of it. Not really my place. I do know her grief was tempered by anger at her husband, considering his corpse was located in bed with another woman.”
I made a mental note to try to talk to Nina. She hadn’t shown me any warmth when we met, so I didn’t bother. However, if I were trying to get to the bottom of her husband’s death, then perhaps I could find an ally ... no matter how upset she was with the man. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.
“What about Tyler?” I asked.
Chandler’s eyebrows climbed high. “As in, your brother? I’m afraid there isn’t much to say about him ... or your sister, for that matter. They were never part of the company. Your grandfather always took care of them after your father’s death, but they were quite spoiled. Colin wouldn’t let them anywhere near the estate. Especially after everything that happened with Kelly.”
“Oh yeah ... I forgot she had a twin sister,” I mused.
I recalled ‘the twins’ having a lawyer represent them at the vote for CEO instead of attending the meeting themselves. I’d meant to follow up on that, but kicking Tyler in the nuts before flying off to Europe had kept me occupied. “Where is she?”
“Last I heard, Allie was in Spain,” Chandler said. “She and Tyler had some kind of falling out, and she wanted nothing to do with the family after that. That was ... three years ago, I believe?”
“And their mom?”
“Connecticut,” Chandler said. “She’s married to a surgeon and has little to do with the Gerrards since the death of your father.”
“Hey, Erin?” I said.
“Got it, boss,” Erin said without looking up from her keyboard. We’d been together long enough now that I knew she was creating a task list that included trying to hunt down Tyler’s twin sister, their mom, and Nina Gerrard, so I could try to meet them. Now that I was running into dead ends with Chandler, I hoped that they could provide more.
“So,” I said, looking around the room, “I have three burning questions.”
“Only three?” Vikram asked.
I glanced around the room at the myriad of papers and computers representing decades of Gerrard bookkeeping, “Well, more than three, but three big ones. I want to know what’s on that flash drive. I also want to know who has it, because I’d bet a hell of a lot of money that it’s how we make sense of all this.” I waved my hands at the paper-strewn desk.
There was only one person I could think of—Amber. That bitch had to have it.
“And the other question?” Erin asked.
“Why did Amber Bell murder Phillip Castor?”
No one spoke, and I couldn’t blame them. There were plenty of guesses—he was an accountant, so it’s possible he had some kind of dirt on Kelly ... or maybe Logan.
But if that was the case, then why was he in prison? Protection from Kelly, maybe? Had he been helping Kelly? Was the murder because Castor had actually been helping make backroom deals?
My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out to take a look.
And then I froze.
Hiro Tanaka’s number was on the screen.