Scars by Brynne Asher EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:Brynne Asher
- Language: English
- Genre: Action & Adventure Romance Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4.4 MB
- Price: Free
One year ago
London
Bella
If my blood could boil, it would.
When this nightmare began three weeks ago, I never imagined I’d end
up here. I thought they’d realize their mistake, kiss my arse in apology—as
they should—and we’d share a glass to laugh off their epic levels of
stupidity. It’s a fuck up on their end that should’ve been smoothed over in a
blink. Someone else’s fuck up—not mine. I don’t fuck things up, at least not
at work, and never anything as royally as this.
My personal life is a different story.
“Bella, you can sit there and chew on this all day. Doesn’t change the
facts.”
I want to shift my feet, drag my sweaty palms down the sides of my denim,
and then drop kick his arse across the room. But I don’t allow myself any of
that. Instead, I tip my head, narrowing my eyes. “I dare you to call me Bella
again. Only those I love or trust get that side of me and you certainly don’t
fall into either category at the moment.”
His jaw hardens and he sucks in a breath. “Let me call your father. You’re a
Donnelly. We owe it to him—to his legacy and that of your grandfather. He
can acquire proper counsel. You’re going to need it.”
I open my mouth when I shouldn’t … but that’s nothing new. Holding my
tongue has never been my strong suit. But this man, whose generation in
British Intelligence falls somewhere between my grandfather and father,
should be castrated—he’s that piss poor at his job. “I wouldn’t need a
solicitor if you knew how to perform a bloody investigation. My
grandfather is surely rolling in his grave knowing he once believed in you.”
His voice lowers. “Isabella, do yourself the favor of taking me up on my
very gracious offer of calling your father—”
“You call my father and, I swear, he’ll bust your nuts for incompetence until
you’re forced to beg him for mercy.”
This beanpole of a man hasn’t always been an imbecile, but he’s worked too
long and has seen better days. He hasn’t kept up with technology or the
gym, and should’ve handed over his credentials years ago.
Even so, this isn’t good.
This is leaning on the side of catastrophic.
If this were simply not good, they would have summoned me to Vauxhall.
Instead, they cornered me here, a bogus meeting in an abandoned
warehouse in Hackney under the guise of needing to discuss a case. My car
is four streets over. One of me, five of them. I’m an operative, and an
unarmed one, at that.
I also know if they drag me in from here, there’s no way I can prove they’re
bloody fucking wrong. Whatever they’ve done, they did a bang-up job of
framing me.
“The money trail doesn’t lie, Isabella. We’ve been following it for weeks.”
“It’s bogus,” I snap. “Someone set me up and you know it.”
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