The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance

As that thought crossed Neville's mind, a hard, dangerous glint flickered in his eyes.

He pressed on. "Then tell me, why was your phone found there?"

Sellers replied evenly, "I lost my phone not long ago. I have no idea how it ended up there."

Sellers hadn't become the head of his family by being naïve. He was slick-no police interrogation or cross-examination could trip him up.

Neville's lips curled into a cold smile. "That's odd, because Joshua told me you've been with Leonard the whole time."

Without missing a beat, Sellers replied, "Before I lost my phone, yes, I did see Leonard. I even got a call from Joshua. But what does any of that have to do with you?"

Neville's tone turned icy. "Stella's missing. We believe Leonard kidnapped her. And you-being with Leonard-are likely involved."

Sellers arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You 'believe'? So you don't actually have any real proof Stella was kidnapped by Leonard. You don't even know for sure who took her, yet here you are, barging in and throwing around accusations?"

He let out a short, cold laugh. "Neville, I'm not one of your subordinates to be ordered around. Out of respect for Stella and my father, I let you search this place. That's already more than generous."

Sellers glanced at the men blocking his path, making it clear he wouldn't back down.

"Step aside. If you keep trying to stop me, don't blame me for what happens next."

to break under pressure. If he wanted answers, he'd have to push

turned lighter, almost mocking. "Tough talk, Mr. Burton. Have you forgotten

fixed Sellers with a cold stare. "So, how about it, Mr. Burton? Will you leave on your own, or do

he was the one being detained-caught up in a mess he hadn't even caused. If only he'd ignored Leonard's call to come

swallow his pride. Shooting Neville a frosty glare, Sellers turned on

...

Sellers from

giving away nothing. His assistant and bodyguard were

Neville was on the verge of

gentlemanly demeanor was gone. His face was set,

he grabbed Sellers by

"Where is Star?!"

of fear, barely even looked

split second later, Foreman's fist

the cool-headed, polite one, had just thrown

bloodshot. "I'll ask you again. Where is

Sellers

Sawled on the floor,