Page 174 of Stolen Voices

I’d kiss him right now if the man we came to visit didn’t interrupt us.

“Mr. and Mrs. … Charming, I presume?” Jenkins asks.

It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, and his dirty blond hair is longer and slightly greasy with product, but I would recognize him anywhere.

“That’s us,” my fake hubby states proudly.

I fight a smile as Jenkins extends his hand to Eli, who obliges him with a friendly greeting.

Jenkins’s eyes gleam as his eyes roam over Eli, noticing my husband’s Rolex, custom suit, and Italian loafers. His beady blue eyes that border on icy widen in delight. He doesn’t bother introducing himself to me—the sexist pig—and leads us back to his office. I should be thankful the slime ball hasn’t recognized me yet, but I can’t stop myself from glaring daggers at the back of his head.

“Please take a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?” Again, he only asks the man I’m with.

I let Eli answer as I continue to play the quiet, dutiful wife.

“No, thank you. I think we would like to get down to business. Right, wife?”

“Right,” I reply with a plastic smile. My earlier nerves are gone as anger burns in my veins. I am going to love taking this bastard down a peg or two.

“What can I help you with?” Jenkins takes a seat behind his enormous oak desk and steeples his fingers.

Overcompensating much? What a tool.

Eli nods at me to take the reins.

We decided I would confront Jenkins. At first, I was weary, but after Jenkins’s misogynistic display, I’m ready.

Gripping the brim of the hat, I take it off and hand it to Eli. When I slip my fingers under the front lace of my wig and slide it off, placing it on my lap, Jenkins’s eyes widen in panic.

“Callie,” he gasps.

“Surprise.”

“Umm, does Silla know you’re here?”

“No. This is between you and me.”

Eli interjects, “And between you and me, if you tell Silla, I’ll make your business suffer.”

Jenkins runs his hands through his hair, muttering curses. “I’m already suffering.”

“Because of Silla?”

Jenkins nods in agreement. “If you’re here, then you have to know about your father’s will and the trusts.”

“And the conservatorship,” I snap.

Jenkins visibly gulps, confirming our suspicions.

“I know you faked it all, and with the evidence I have, I’m pretty sure I can get you disbarred.”

“You don’t have evidence. Silla made sure of it.” He scratches his neck, a nervous tic.

I don’t, but I will, so I bluff. “Are you sure? Silla keeps copies of everything in her safe at the penthouse.” I don’t know if Silla has a safe, but I’m guessing she does. She is a master of manipulation, and it looks like I’m not the only one she’s been messing with.

His tune changes at my ruse. “What do you want?”

“I want to know everything you know. And if you help me, I’ll help you with whatever Silla has on you.”