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.

"You'll wait here," one of them said.

group. Muscle, plain and

business and politics were hopelessly intertwined-Garry

knew better than to argue. He

building belonged to Garry-one of

up to the twenty-eighth

entire floor was

a long corridor, finally

Garry was inside.

a beat,

is here," Larson said,

"Let him in."

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

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

remained icy as he crossed the room and dropped

a slow, steady stream of smoke. "Cut to the chase, Garry. What will it take

eyes narrowing. "That's a tough question to start

clearly didn't have the patience

like

eyebrow. "You want her for revenge? For your wife and kid?" Stewart's dark brows drew

released the blonde from his arm. "Give us

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