“You should have a big, extravagant wedding. It will bring in lots of donors and make a big splash.”
“We’ve always discussed having a small court wedding and not making a big fuss. That way, we can show that Waylon cares about the important things. Downplay how much money he has and show that he works for the people.” Also, if we have a big, splashy wedding, there is no way for me to hide it from Langston.
“Just make sure you’re free three weekends from now.” Nolan walks away in a huff.
I flip his back off.
I’m tired of men running my life. Waylon and I will decide when and where and how we have a wedding.
Waylon is busy talking with Nolan. I glance at the clock on my phone as I yawn. I didn’t get any sleep last night.
I need some caffeine to wake me up.
I search for cafes on my phone and see a coffee shop across the street.
“Maxwell, I’m headed over to get a cup of coffee while they finish up here. You coming?” I say to the brute man in an all-black outfit. This man has nothing on Zeke, who is basically a giant, so a man like Maxwell doesn’t intimidate me.
“Yes, Mrs. Brown. Wherever you go, I go.”
“It’s Ms. Dunn.”
Maxwell frowns as he walks next to me out of the event hall.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Dunn. Nolan told me to start calling you Mrs. Brown so I wouldn’t slip up when you get married, since it’s happening so quickly. He said I might as well start calling you Mrs. Brown.”
“I won’t be changing my name even after we’re married, so please call me Ms. Dunn. Or better yet, Liesel.”
Maxwell stops in his tracks. “Do Mr. Brown and Nolan know about your plans? I don’t think you keeping your own name will help the campaign.”
“Don’t worry about the campaign, Maxwell. Just worry about keeping me safe. As long as you do that, Waylon and Nolan won’t have anything to complain about.”
I jog across the street rather than wait at the crosswalk, forcing Maxwell to choose between almost getting hit by traffic or waiting on the sidewalk. It’s a test.
He passes.
He puts his hand on the hood of a car slamming on its breaks to avoid hitting us.
I open the door to the coffee shop, and Maxwell grabs it to hold it open for me.
“No more running into danger. If I’m going to protect you, I need you to tell me your plans. I don’t need you to make my job any harder than it already is.”
I smirk. “That was a test. I don’t usually run into danger.”
His shoulders relax.
“But danger does usually find me.”
And then I walk to the counter.
“Can I get a large coffee, black?”
The woman smiles at me. “That will be $3.”
I hand her my credit card from my sleek white purse that pops against my navy pencil skirt and jacket.
She swipes the card a few times. “I’m sorry, but your card keeps getting declined. Do you have another one?”
I frown as I pull out another card and hand it to her. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach.
“I’m sorry, this one isn’t working either.”
I take the card back. I have two more cards we could try, but I suspect the same thing will happen. A line has formed behind us, and I don’t have any cash.
I look to Maxwell behind me, who pulls out a ten-dollar bill and hands it to the barista.
“Keep the change,” he tells her.
I walk to the other counter to wait for my drink.
“Something wrong with your card? I can tell Nolan to have the credit card company to send you a new one.”
“No, that’s okay. I can call myself.”
Maxwell nods.
“Mind taking me to the bank?” I ask, suspecting this might be more than just a credit card issue.
“Of course.”
$0.00
That’s what my bank account reads.
Zero.
I haven’t had an empty bank account since high school. My credit cards all have a $0 credit limit too.
I had millions saved. Millions I earned by starting my own law firm, by winning lawsuit after lawsuit.
I struggled my way through poverty, became friends with the richest boy in all of Miami, studied my ass off in college, and fought through a male-dominated world until I made my way to the top. I did all of that while wrestling with a dark past that haunts my every waking moment. I did all of that with unbearable pain. I did all of that after starting over and moving my entire life to New York.
I earned every cent, and now it’s all gone.
I don’t have to do any investigating to know who stole my money—Langston.
Waylon has no need for my money. I just signed the prenup. He has no right to my money any more than I have a right to his. The only money of his I can access are campaign reimbursements. We don’t even plan on sharing a residence once we are married. I’ll keep my apartment, and he’ll keep his.
Now, I have no idea how I’m going to pay for my apartment. I can’t even afford a coffee, let alone the thousands of dollars in monthly rent for my apartment.
Maxwell drives me back to my apartment as I think through my options. I refuse to rely on a man. I refuse to put myself in more debt. I won’t ask Waylon for help financially. I don’t even know how I’d explain to him what happened to my money in the first place.
“You okay?” Maxwell asks, raising an eyebrow in the rearview mirror as he drives.
“It was just a mixup at the bank. They recognized some fraudulent charges on my credit cards, so they canceled them. It’s all sorted out now. I’m just tired.”
Maxwell nods.
“Please don’t mention any of this to Waylon. I don’t want to worry him with something so little when he has so much going on.”
I’m not sure who Maxwell is loyal to—me or Waylon. Technically, Waylon pays his salary, but I’m the one who gives Maxwell orders. Waylon made sure that Maxwell knew his job is to protect me and follow my orders no matter what. It will be an interesting test of his loyalty.
“Of course, Liesel.”
He stops the car outside my building and then steps out, opening the door for me after handing the valet the keys.
I don’t really need him to walk me to my door, but he won’t leave me alone until I’m safely inside my apartment. I let him walk with me up into my building and up the elevator.
Once we reach my door, I expect him to come inside and search the apartment before I enter. That’s what Langston would do.
“Do you need anything else, Liesel?” Maxwell stands to the side of the door as I insert the key.
I smile. “I’m good. Thanks, Max.”
He grins at the nickname. “I’ll be in the apartment down the hallway monitoring your door. If you need anything, just text. Otherwise, have a good night.”
I walk inside and shut and lock the door behind me.
Maxwell is sweet enough. He’s a decent bodyguard who I think I can trust, but he’s no match for Langston or anyone who works for the Black empire.
It’s an illusion of safety.
Maxwell said that he’d be monitoring the hallway, which should make it tough for me to leave without him noticing.
But he isn’t the only one watching me.
I walk into the apartment, making it seem like I’m going to bed. I pull out my phone and do a quick search of surrounding hotels until I find the one Langston is staying at. It’s the most expensive and closest. I know without a shadow of a doubt that he’s there.