Revenge. Yes…nothing tasted better.

Monty narrowed his eyes as he looked at Celine’s login screen. “What is her damned password?”

He needed it now.

Monty ground his teeth. Her father, Charles Northland, had taken everything from him. It was only fitting that he should regain his wealth by robbing Northland’s daughter.

The purse he would have won with his horse would have gone toward MERF. But not only was Monty unable to run his horse in the race, thanks to that cheating sonofabitch Northland, Monty’s horse, who he’d run under the name of Merf’s Dream, had to be put down.

Monty had sunk everything into that damned horse, and had ended up with nothing.

Fucking Northland.

Monty might not be able to touch the bastard, but he’d put himself in line to get everything from Celine. He had full access to all her business accounts. Now he just needed her passwords to take everything from the accounts her parents had set up for her. Celine refused to use the money from her parents because she wanted to “make it on her own.”

Yeah, right. Just being a Northland got her places she wouldn’t have made it to before.

And her clothing line—he already had a buyer who would pay through the nose for Celine’s designs.

Who knew why? What was that crap women wore today? Hell, women should all be home taking care of their husbands. His parents’ generation and the generations before that had it right.

Maybe her password was the date he’d killed her horse. He still remembered the exact day. He remembered everything about it.

He punched in the date and growled when it didn’t work.

Monty remembered seeing her as a snot-nosed brat, riding that horse like she was some kind of freaking princess. That her horse got caught up in Monty’s revenge—well, it couldn’t have been helped. And as demanding and bitchy as she’d appeared to be, she’d deserved it.

And now—well, even though she didn’t know it, she was paying for his farm in Belize. He’d just put a bid on it and knew it would be his. The property had been sitting for a while, but he really didn’t care about that.

He’d never be found there. Never. And he’d have peace, solitude, with only the servants to take care of him and otherwise stay silent. A small town with modern conveniences was close, but not close enough to bother him.

The collection of twenty-one different tropical birds the former owner had left behind—whipped cream on the sundae.

“Now I need to get those fucking passwords.” He stared at her laptop’s login screen and the blinking cursor in the password box. Apparently, he’d have to get to Celine and make her give them to him.

He just had to figure out how.

Monty pushed aside Celine’s laptop and turned to his desktop computer. He glanced at his handwritten notes lying beside the keyboard, and picked them up. He’d called a few companies specializing in blocking ransomware attacks, and he knew exactly what to do to set up his own software protection company—on paper—so that he could shovel more of Celine’s money into it.

He had become so good at doing that exact thing with a handful of other “companies.” Once he disappeared, it would take them a good long time to unravel it—and he’d made sure they’d never know everything.

Best of all, he would be gone, where they would never think to look for him. On farmland in the rainforest of Belize, fifty acres of peace all around him in the foothills of the Maya Mountains, he’d live the life he deserved.

Yeah, Monty’s Early Retirement Funds would soon be fat enough to finally do what he’d been dreaming about for years.

He opened his email program and waited for it to download messages into the account he used for Celine’s business, those for the fake companies he’d set up, and then his private email—that was the important one.

Messages popped up in his inboxes, but it was the one in his private account that he went to first.

It was from his real estate agent, Maria, the subject line Maya Mountain property.

He didn’t know why his stomach clenched. He clicked on the email.

Mr. Tinsman,

I have been trying to reach you by telephone with no success. You have been outbid by another potential buyer. Their offer is $500,000 U.S. Would you like to bid higher?

There are many beautiful farms in Belize. However, I do not believe you will find another home quite like this one. I recommend $600,000 U.S.

Please advise,

Maria Fernanda Vasquez

Monty balled his fists and restrained himself from punching the monitor.

Someone had bid against him.

His muscles tightened and his head ached from how tightly he clenched his jaws.

All he had right now was half a million. He couldn’t blow it all on the property without having the rest of Celine’s money. He’d thought he had plenty of time.

Including investor funds, the crowd funding, and Celine’s personal accounts, he’d have another one and a half million. He’d had to do it slowly, but this changed things.

He had to do it all now.