Chapter 273

Westenmar.

The moment Stewart and Carl stepped out of the airport, they were greeted by Larson and a handful of men in black suits.

"Mr. Wentworth, Mr. Ferguson would like to see you," Larson announced.

Everyone who had ever dealt with Garry Ferguson knew that Larson was his right- hand man.

Once involved in the underworld, Larson owed Garry his life—a debt that made his loyalty absolute.

Stewart fixed Larson with a cold stare. "Where's Rosita?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wentworth, I can't disclose that." Larson gestured politely toward the waiting car, his tone respectful. "If you have questions, perhaps you could ask Mr. Ferguson in person."

In Westenmar, Garry Ferguson could protect anyone he wished-effortlessly.

Without another word, Stewart climbed into the car.

Half an hour later, the car pulled up in front of a towering office building.

Larson got out, motioning for Stewart to follow him inside.

Carl moved to go with them, but the men in black blocked his path.

wait here," one of them

at the group. Muscle, plain

country where business and politics were hopelessly intertwined-Garry Ferguson wielded power

better than to argue.

building belonged to Garry-one

Stewart up

was

corridor, finally stopping outside the

Garry was inside.

knocked, waited a beat, then opened the

Ferguson, Mr. Wentworth is here," Larson said,

"Let him in."

aside and gestured for Stewart to enter. "Mr. Wentworth, please." Stone-faced, Stewart

the other holding a cigar. He looked up with casual indifference. "Come on, Attorney Wentworth, make yourself at home.

remained icy as he crossed the room and

a pack of cigarettes, lit one, and exhaled a slow, steady stream of smoke. "Cut to the chase,

tough question to start with, don't you think? Drink? Whiskey,

didn't have the patience for

was like ice.

for revenge? For your wife and kid?" Stewart's dark brows drew together. "That's none of

released the blonde from

stood and slipped out, reading the room

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