"Her own cousin."
"Cousin?" JD repeated, a mix of disbelief and curiosity flickering in his eyes. Family could be complicated—he'd certainly entertained dark thoughts about his cousins during their relentless teasing—but murder?
"Why?"
"To cut him out of the inheritance, of course!" Nina scoffed, as though it was the most obvious conclusion.
"Wow," JD murmured, stunned. He hadn't imagined people like that actually existed—though the news occasionally painted such pictures.
"But how is she not in jail?" he asked after a pause.
"Money, man." Nina shrugged with resignation. "Enough of it can buy you freedom. Plus, she's got so powerful backers."
JD nodded absently, his gaze drifting. "I know people like that," he muttered, his tone hardening.
mories gnawed at him. The woman who had wrecked his life had walked away unscathed. His grandfather had thrown him out but settled her debts, leaving her free to rebuild while JD was thrown out to fend for himself.
His mother was right. That woman had chard his grandfather beyond anything. He had no idea how she managed to do that. She ca in pretending to force herself into that marriage for her debts, then even when the wedding fall apart, she managed to get what she needed.
What a talent!
His fists clenched at the thought. A familiar, simring need for retribution surged within him. When he found her, he vowed, he'd take everything from her—leave her with the sa emptiness he'd been forced to endure.
A light tap on his arm snapped him back. Startled, he stepped back instinctively, putting space between himself and Nina. Nina at tis didn't respect his personal space and he wasn't a fan of that.
"What did you say?" Nina asked, her brown eyes narrowing in concern.
"Nothing," JD replied, exhaling a shaky breath. "Anyway, her personal life doesn't matter to us... as long as the paycheck clears."
He forced a smile, trying to an the words. Whatever shadows lurked in other people's lives weren't his concern. He had sothing far brighter waiting for him at ho: his redheaded goddess. That was all that truly mattered.
"Yeah," Nina chuckled, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear. "She's coming in on Wednesday. When you see her... Well, don't see her." She smiled ominously. "Stay off her radar. For your own safety."
JD thought Nina was being a little too dramatic. But if his boss really was a murderous psychopath... well, he'd cross that bridge when he ca to it.
And if this job didn't pan out? Maybe he'd learn farm work.
-----
Joanne checked her bank balance, her eyes scanning the figures with a sense of triumph tempered by disbelief. The gold bonds she had carefully purchased over the years added to her assets, bringing her total liquid wealth to nearly fifteen million dollars.
A soft exhale escaped her lips. It wasn't just money—it was proof of her resilience, her ability to rise from the ashes of a life she once thought irreparable.
She hadn't always been this secure.
When she left the hotel that fateful day, she barely had enough for the journey back to her grandfather's farm. Every step away from that Chapter of her life felt heavier, lonelier, and more uncertain. She didn't know who to call, where to go, or what to do. Like many wounded souls, she did the only thing that felt natural: she went ho.
Ho wasn't hers, though.
She hadn't paid property taxes or inheritance dues for the farm. She couldn't have kept it if she tried. But it was the only place that held even a whisper of solace.
By the ti she arrived, she had learned sothing that shook her more than the journey itself. Philip Winchester had paid off all her debts.
She was free—debt-free.
More than that, he had settled the property taxes and even the inheritance fees, ensuring she would have a roof over her head.
Her hands trembled as she dialed his number. This wasn't part of the deal. She hadn't fulfilled her end of the bargain, so why had he stepped in? She was determined to tell him to take the money back, that she couldn't accept it.
But Philip never answered.
She called him repeatedly for a week. The phone would ring, and then—nothing. He didn't block her; she was certain of that. Yet, sohow, he always seed to know it was her and declined the call. Even when she used other numbers, his uncanny awareness thwarted her attempts.
Eventually, she gave up.
Instead, she vowed to repay him, every penny and then so. Not because she was obligated to—Philip had never made her feel that way—but because she didn't want the Winchester family to think she had stolen from them. The thought of their judgnt, their scornful whispers, haunted her.
Four years ago, she started with nothing but a dilapidated farm and twenty sheep along with the dogs. The neighbors, a kind-hearted couple, gifted her Mr. Darcy, a well-trained horse who quickly beca her anchor and companion. That small act of kindness was her first step forward.
Now, after years of tireless effort, she had not only survived but thrived. The fifteen million dollars she had accumulated was a testant to her grit and determination.
But the shadow of Philip's silent generosity still lood over her. She didn't think she deserved that.
Joanne picked up her phone, her thumb hovering over the screen. She stared at Philip's number, her mind warring with itself. She didn't even know if the old man rembered her. Did he still keep tabs on her?
If he did, she liked to think he would be happy for her.
But what would he think if she returned the money? Would it feel like an insult to his kindness? She doubted the Winchesters would even notice the sum she intended to repay. Even fifty million dollars wouldn't add a single aningful zero to their vast fortune. What good was fifteen million dollars?
And yet, she couldn't shake the mory of the sharp words she'd overheard from his family, the way they'd derided her as a gold digger, a parasite.
The thought of their disdain made her want to throw the money in their faces, to prove she was more than their cruel assumptions. But then, she would rember Philip's warm smile and the way he used to call her "Poppet." Her heart ached at the mory.
What could she do? How could she reconcile these feelings?
"Jo!"
Joanne nearly jumped, startled by the familiar voice cutting through her thoughts.
"Ah, JD, you're back!" she said, quickly closing her laptop and forcing a smile.
"You were so lost in thought, you didn't even hear call," JD said, crouching halfway down to Fluffy's level. He held out a treat, his tone light but teasing.
Joanne watched, her smile softening as Fluffy, ever so selective, accepted the snack without hesitation. The sight ward her heart. Fluffy wasn't usually food-motivated, and after Sam, he hadn't ward up to most n. But JD? He seed to have a natural knack for earning the little dog's trust.
"Well, Fluffy likes you," Joanne mused, leaning back in her chair. "He's not exactly easy to impress."
"Oh, he's a cute teddy bear... Aren't you, Fluffy?" JD petted Fluffy's head and Fluffy waved his little tail as fast as he could with a smile on its face.
Joanne chuckled softly. They said that dogs have sixth sense about people. JD must be one of the good ones and Fluffy caught up on it.
Her mind, however, lingered on her earlier thoughts. She studied JD for a mont, noting his relaxed deanor and easy charm. He seed like soone who had it all figured out—or at least ca from a world where people didn't have to agonize over dilemmas like hers.
"Well," she started hesitantly, glancing at her closed laptop. "I was thinking about sothing..."
JD looked up, his expression open and curious. "Oh? Care to share? You know I'm a good listener."
Joanne hesitated, weighing her options. Could she really talk about her dilemma with him? JD carried himself like soone from a well-off family, soone who might understand the complexities of obligations, pride, and guilt tangled up in wealth.
Maybe, just maybe, he could offer so perspective.
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