Chapter 178
Chapter 178:
Hilliard was sitting on the floor of the living room, surrounded by empty scotch bottles. He hadn’t slept.
“You let them attack the English family? Are you weak?” Amerigo barked, striking the floor with his cane. “Our stock is down four points this morning p>
“They deserved it,” Hilliard said, staring at the wall.
“And now Cailin is with that arms dealer? Aguirre?” Amerigo asked, his voice thick with contempt. “I heard the rumors. Engaged p>
“Yes,” Hilliard whispered.
Amerigo narrowed his eyes. He calculated.
“Aguirre is dangerous. He has resources. If she is with him, she is a threat to this family — she knows too much about our operations.” He turned toward the door. “I’m going to pay her a visit. Broker a peace deal p>
“Leave her alone,” Hilliard warned, without looking up.
“I need to ensure she leaves the country,” Amerigo said. “Permanently. Before she drags the Holloway name through the mud any further p>
𝖳𝗵𝗼𝘶𝘴𝗮n𝖽s o𝖿 𝗿𝖾𝖺𝖽е𝗋𝘀 𝗈𝗇
He left with his security team.
Hilliard felt a cold dread settle deep in his stomach. He reached for his phone, but his hand was shaking too badly to dial.
The safe house was supposed to be a secret. But money buys secrets.
A convoy of black SUVs surrounded the small suburban house. They weren’t attackers. They were lawyers. And the Police Commissioner.
Amerigo Holloway stepped out of the lead vehicle, leaning heavily on his cane, his white hair perfectly coiffed, his suit impeccable.
Kegan came out onto the porch. His hand rested on the holster at his hip.
“Mr. Holloway. To what do I owe the displeasure?” Kegan asked.
“I want to speak to Cailin,” Amerigo demanded. “Alone.” His voice was gravel and authority.
Cailin stepped out. She wore jeans and a sweater. She looked tired, but not frightened.
“Speak,” she said.
Amerigo studied her. He saw the change. The girl who used to serve tea at charity functions was gone. The woman standing before him was harder — like a diamond.
“You caused a mess, girl. My stock is dropping,” he said, waving a hand toward the convoy. “Assault. Kidnapping. Property damage p>
“Your grandson’s mistress kidnapped a child,” Cailin retorted.
“Details,” Amerigo scoffed. “I am here to make a deal p>
He signaled a lawyer, who stepped forward with a leather portfolio.
“Sign this NDA. Admit no wrongdoing. Leave the country today,” Amerigo said. “Never come back. Never speak to the press p>
“And in return?” Cailin asked, crossing her arms.
“I won’t prosecute you for the assault on the English family, or for the theft of company funds you call alimony,” Amerigo said. “And Hilliard will sign the divorce p>
He held up the papers. They were already signed. Hilliard’s signature sat at the bottom — shaky, jagged, as though the pen had trembled in his hand.
Cailin stared at the ink. It was real. He had finally let her go.
“And safe passage?” she asked. “No tails p>
“You have my word. Just go. Take your… baggage,” Amerigo said, glancing toward the house. Something made him pause. The house felt too full.
“Fine. I’ll sign,” Cailin said, taking the pen.