Justified

“Good.” I shrug.

My mother looks at me like she’s going to say something, but I hold up my hand.

“Chloe is in danger, and until I know who is trying to hurt her, everyone is a suspect.”

“Darling,” my mother stammers, putting a hand over her heart.

“No. This is not up for discussion. And know that if you do anything to put her in danger and she goes along with it, I will be spanking her ass for it.”

“Oh my,” Chloe’s mother mutters as Chloe’s eyes light with fire.

“Now, I have work to do. Please stay out of trouble,” I tell them before leaving the room and heading towards my office.

In the back of my head, all I can think about is Bre—something about her is setting off red flags. I know I may seem a bit harsh right now, but this is about keeping my woman and unborn child safe, and I will do whatever is necessary to see to that.

*

“You’re sure about this?” I ask Bernard while going through the stack of pictures he just handed to me.

“One hundred percent certain,” he says as I come across a picture of my ex-wife with Bre.

It took some time for it to click, but after a few days, I got it. I realized who Bre really was. Plastic surgery had changed her appearance, but her eyes were still the same.

Breanne’s were just like my ex’s—her older sister’s—cold and distant. She had a way of looking at you that made you feel like she was looking right through you.

“Tell me what the plan is,” I say, leaning back in my chair and setting the pictures down on the top of my desk.

“Hear me out before you say anything.” He sits down.

“If your idea has anything to do with Chloe, the answer is no.”

“Hear me out.”

“No.” I slam my hand down on the top of my desk.

“I want to build the best case possible,” he says calmly.

“Do that without risking Chloe in the process,” I snarl, the idea of Chloe being in danger making my blood boil.

“I would never let anything happen to Chloe.” He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.

“I know I would never let anything happen to Chloe.” I point a finger at myself. “And I refuse to put her in harm’s way, so figure something else out.”

“I will figure something else out,” he says.

I nod and watch as he walks away. Then I pick up my phone and look at the clock on the wall.

“Shit,” I mutter, picking up my phone. “Hello.”

“Darling, you need to come home,” my mother says in a tone I have not heard from her since I was thirteen and my dog got run over.

“What is it?”

“Just come home,” she whispers before the phone goes dead.

I rush out of my office and out of the building, where Ricket is waiting for me.

“What happened?” I roar.

He shakes his head and opens the door to the car. I try to call everyone on the ride home, but no one is available. When we finally pull up to the estate, I see that there are at least ten police cruisers out front. I don’t even wait for the car to come to a complete stop before I’m out running to Chloe.

“What happened?” I demand from the officer while pulling Chloe into my arms, breathing in her scent.

“The two women in the back of the squad car over there tried to kidnap her,” the officer says.

I follow his eyes to a police car that is parked near the entrance to our home. Lynda and Breanne are both handcuffed and sitting in the back of a squad car. I push Chloe slightly away and begin checking her over, making sure she was not harmed. Once I see that she is okay, I pull her back towards my chest.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Bre told me that she wanted to go out for lunch. I told her that I couldn’t. Then she told me she had something for the baby in her car and to walk her out. I…” She pauses. “I just got a weird feeling. So I told her I would get it from her another time, and that’s when the other woman pushed into the house. Then Bernard and a few other guys showed up,” she says quietly.

I shudder at the idea of what could have happened. Then I look around the crowd for Bernard and give him a chin lift.

It takes about an hour for the police to leave after getting statements from everyone, and I have Chloe’s mother and mine take Chloe inside while I talk to Bernard. It seems that he tracked down my ex-wife and her sister in a small, one-bedroom apartment in SOHO. When they were able to enter their apartment, they realized the extent of their delusion. The two of them had devoted their lives to trying to hurt me.

From what they were able to gather, Lynda and Breanne had planned for me to meet Breanne and begin a relationship with her. They believed I would marry her at some point, and then their plan was to have me murdered and collect the money from my life insurance. When they realized I was already taken, they formed a new plan to use my devotion to Chloe against me.

They drugged Chloe and were going to try to set it up to make it look like she had been cheating on me with her high school boyfriend. When that didn’t work, they were planning on making it look like Chloe had moved out on me, and they sent Chloe the e-mail with the pictures of me in Japan, planning on Chloe seeing them and ignoring my calls. All of their plans were being foiled, and when Chloe told Bre that we’d gotten married, that sent my ex over the edge and she tried to run Chloe over.

After Bernard and everyone leaves, I find Chloe in the library, standing in front of one of the windows, looking out over the estate. I walk to her.

“They are really insane,” she whispers as I reach her side.

I wrap an arm around her shoulders, watching as Bernard pulls away. “They are, and they are both going away for a very long time.”

“I hate that Bre did this,” she whispers.

I’m not one to condone hitting women, but I could choke the shit out of that bitch for making my beautiful angel this upset, for coming into her life, pretending to be her friend, and then using her like she did.

“I’m sorry, Angel.”

“Me too,” she says, stepping out of my hold and walking out of the room.

I watch her go, knowing I will only give her a little time to get over what happened. I do not want her to dwell on this shit—not when we have so much to be happy about.

*

“Get up,” I tell Chloe as I walk into the bedroom.

“For what?” she asks, looking at me from over the top of her Kindle, not moving.