Raised him as my own, watched him become an honors engineering graduate, now working for Lockheed Martin. He wore tailored suits and lived in the suburbs. I couldn’t have been prouder—until he got involved with Jessica Harrington.
Jessica came from big money. Her father ran the largest bank in the state. She went to an Ivy League school and had eyes like cold steel. I could see from the start that she didn’t think I measured up.
For illustrative purposes only.
So when that $3,000 check came, and she vanished, she thought I’d be humiliated. What she didn’t expect was the card I pulled from my vest—a Centurion Amex. The fabled black card. I paid the bill, calm and unshaken. Then I made those calls, not for help, but to prepare the next step.
A few days later, I hosted an exclusive charity event at the most elegant venue in town—Le Château.
I’d kept my true life quiet, even from David. He didn’t know about my 20-acre estate or the successful businesses I built after leaving the road behind. I’d let him think I lived above my old shop.
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