Trey

I glance at my watch as the elevator comes to a stop on the top floor. It’s only a quarter past ten, but it feels like it should be two or three in the morning. I glance over at Mandy who has been resting her eyes and wait for her to open them. She gives me a sexy smile as her beautiful blue eyes reappear to greet me.

“Doesn’t it feel like it should be much later?” I ask her. “It’s only a little after ten.”

“I saw that on the clock in the lobby,” she concurs. “At this point, I don’t even remember what day it is,” she says looking slightly confused.

“It’s still Monday!” I laugh. “This has been the longest Monday of my entire life.” I glance over at Anthony who is busy exchanging text messages with Romeo.

“No wonder I’m so exhausted,” Mandy groans. “It seems like forever since we got back from Mom and Dad’s.” A hint of sadness enters her expression as she realizes that it’s now just her dad’s place. “I should let him know we are safe and that we now have security.”

“That’s a good idea,” I reply as we exit the elevator and walk toward the presidential suite. “You go call him while Anthony and I go over a few things.”

Mandy

Trey seems a bit surprised when the bellman opens the door to our suite. We are greeted by a very modern looking entry, which leads us into an absolutely gorgeous living room. I immediate walk over to the window which looks out over Fifth Avenue giving me a stunning view of the city.

“Are you surprised?” Anthony asks Trey while Ozzy transfers his luggage to the second bedroom.

“Yeah, they have changed it completely,” Trey replies, walking over to Renzo with a hundred dollar bill and giving another to Ozzy. “Make sure our luggage is brought up as soon as it arrives. If we don’t answer, just leave it in the entry way.”

“Will do, sir,” Renzo replies as both he and Ozzy leave the room. “We are both at your disposal sir, so let us know if you need anything.”

I wander back to the master bedroom to give Dad a quick call. “Amanda, is everything okay?” he asks immediately upon answering.

“Yes, we are fine. I just wanted to let you know we are safe and secure for the night. We now have members of the Alpha 9 as our security detail. One is with Trey and I, one is spending the night at the hospital with Tyler and another is at Victor’s penthouse at Trump Tower protecting Silvia, Vanessa and the others,” I elaborate, wanting him to know that everyone has been accounted for.

“That’s good,” he replies firmly. “I wonder what Silvia thinks of being back there?”

“I think after finding out that both Dr. Potaturri and Bill were dead, she was just happy to have a safe place to sleep,” I tell him bluntly.

“Yeah, she called me half an hour ago and told me all about the Alpha 9 and the fact that now Bill’s son-in-law, Nolan, is missing as well. Is this all because of a business deal gone bad?” Dad asks, seeming as mystified as the rest of us.

“It seems like a stretch, but it kind of looks that way,” I confirm. “If Tyler had his memory it would make it much easier to figure out, especially since Bill is dead and now Nolan is missing. Hopefully, Aileen knows something. She has to be totally shell-shocked now that Nolan has disappeared too.”

“Silvia said she hasn’t stopped crying since the moment they picked her up. I can’t even imagine.” The conversation pauses as we both know exactly how it feels to lose someone special. I can’t imagine losing your father and your husband on the same day.

“Hopefully Nolan is okay,” I mutter after a long minute of silence.

“Agreed. You keep yourself out of harms way too!” he says with a renewed conviction in his voice. “Leave this to the investigators and you two lay low. This family doesn’t need any more loss either.”

“I know. We’ll be careful,” I assure him. “Goodnight Dad.”

I stand for a moment in front of the second window that looks out on Fifty Fifth Street. We are only a few blocks from Central Park; it would be a beautiful night for a walk if we weren’t completely exhausted. Anthony probably wouldn’t allow us to go for a walk anyway.

“Your champagne and strawberries have arrived,” Trey says softly after sneaking up behind me. As I turn to face him, he holds a big, perfect red strawberry up to my lips.

I draw the end of it between my teeth and envelop it with my lips as an explosion of deliciousness springs forth against my bite. “I’ve been craving these ever since Monaco,” I tell him with a satisfied smile. “They are so delicious. Especially with champagne.” I take my glass from his hand and clink it against his rocks glass.

“Here’s to the longest Monday ever,” he says, stealing my line. We both take a long sip before lowering them and simply staring into each other’s eyes. “Even after a day like today and dressed in some old scrubs, you are still stunning,” he says before leaning forward and kissing my strawberry and champagne coated lips. “I’ll get us a refill, while you slip into something more comfortable,” he says with a devilish smile.

“What’s more comfortable than scrubs?” I ask, having been impressed by the freedom and softness of them.

“Fifteen hundred thread count Egyptian cotton sheets,” he says adding a cocked eyebrow to his sly grin.

When he leaves the room to retrieve a refill and more strawberries, I turn and spot a gorgeous Jacuzzi tub in the master bathroom. I walk over and turn on the hot water, knowing that a soothing bath will help me relax and unwind from the day.

Hearing voices, I take a peak out into the living room to find Anthony engaged in another serious conversation with Trey. With a champagne bottle in one hand and a bottle of hard stuff in the other, Trey listens impatiently to what Anthony is telling him. Having had enough for one day I head back to the bathroom, slip out of the scrubs and into a steamy hot tub.

Trey

I knew I shouldn’t have come back out here. Anthony has only been involved for a couple of hours, so he is dying to get up to speed on all that is going on around us. I set the champagne and cognac back down on the bar and take a seat to answer his questions.

“According to Dad’s old personal assistant, Becky, Carly introduced Tommy to Bill Gleason,” I explain answering his question about how Carly was involved. “Apparently, Bill, his daughter, Aileen and her husband, Nolan, were part of the group who bought Tommy’s company, Firefly Media.”

“That’s the company that he promoted on his TV show,” Anthony states correctly.

“And there were several start-up companies under Firefly Media’s umbrella,” I inform him. “And that is most likely where the problems lie.” I try to recall how many different times I’ve heard the word fraud tossed around in the past couple of weeks. “Nearly everyone who was involved with the transaction is either dead or missing at this point. Except for my brother.”

“And he is fried,” Anthony adds, finishing my sentence. “And you say Carly has fled to Belize, which is suspicious in itself. That probably means that she is either running from some sort of fraud or trying to keep herself alive.” He plops into one of the leather chairs and tilts his head back, rubbing his hand across his forehead.

I pull up my phone and click her number again just to see if she has landed. It immediately goes to voicemail for the third time. “I wonder if she still has one of the corporate phones as well?” I look at Anthony who is still rubbing his forehead in deep thought.

“If she does, she’s probably going to be dead before we get a chance to talk to her,” he says lowering his hand and giving me a blank stare. “Let’s hope that Bill’s daughter knows something. I told Romeo to protect her and Mrs. Gleason at all cost,” he adds.

“If he keeps everyone at Trump Tower, there shouldn’t be any chance of anyone getting hurt. Should there?” I ask him, suddenly feeling a little less certain about everything.

“I never say, never,” he says with a sigh before rising and walking over to the bar. “I guess I will have a nice, tall glass of Jack after all. Otherwise, this case will be spinning in my head all night.”

“That’s why I’m so exhausted,” I explain, joining him at the bar. “Mandy and I have been caught up in this mess ever since the day after Dad was killed. It has been a relentless downward spiral.”

“It’s always darkest just before dawn,” he assures me with a well-worn cliché. “This will all come to a head in the next forty eight hours. I’m going to need at least two or three more men though. Hopefully, we have at least two more in position by noon tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” I reply, picking up the two bottles and positioning the bowl of strawberries between my elbow and ribs. “I’m going to go get a little… rest.” I raise an eyebrow and head for the bedroom.

“Yeah, you go get a little,” he says with a chuckle. “You rich fuckers are all the same.”