Chapter 3
After leaving the villa, I got into the car.
Mark was already waiting for me.
"Here's the report," he said, handing me a folder.
I opened it.
Harris Realty Group focused on real estate development and commercial property operations. Their total assets were about 2.5 billion dollars, with a debt-to-asset ratio of 72%.
Their main loans all came from Summit Bank.
They had three major building material suppliers in their supply chain, and two of them were owned by subsidiaries of Sterling Capital.
I closed the folder.
"What does Edward own?" I asked.
"Three properties, two cars, a private account with over 7 million dollars, and 15% of Harris Group's shares," Mark replied.
"What about his mistress? The one named Chloe Lane?"
"Chloe Lane, twenty-six, used to be a model. Edward bought her an apartment and a Porsche. She's two months pregnant."
I looked up.
"Pregnant?" I asked.
"Yes. She had a prenatal checkup yesterday," Mark replied.
So, Edward being at the OB-GYN yesterday wasn't some random coincidence.
He took his mistress to her checkup, and Emily ran right into them.
When he got home, he didn't apologize. Instead, he lost his temper.
He said it was Emily's fault for showing up.
I couldn't help but laugh.
Mark looked at me, his back noticeably tense.
He'd been by my side for three years; he knew exactly what that laugh meant.
"Mr. Sinclair, what's your plan?" Mark asked.
I glanced out the window.
Harris Tower was only 2 miles away.
"No hurry," I replied. "Let me figure out how to make him hurt for a while longer."
For the next three days, I kept my hands off everything.
All I did was drop by Emily's place every day to sit with her and keep her company.
On the fourth day, Edward finally showed up.
He pulled up in his Maybach, dressed to the nines in a sharp suit, his hair slicked back perfectly.
When he saw me sitting in the living room, he paused for a second, then forced a smile.
"Hey, James, you're back? When did you get here?" he asked.
He reached out for a handshake.
I glanced at his hand but didn't move.
His smile froze for a second, then he pulled his hand back and patted me on the shoulder.
"Fine, no handshake then. Why didn't you give me a heads-up? I could've picked you up myself," he said.
"No need," I replied.
"No need to be so formal, we're family," he said, settling onto the couch and crossing his legs. "How's it going abroad? Still doing that international trade thing?"
"Yeah," I replied.
"Made any money yet?" Edward chuckled, shaking his head. "Never mind. If you ever need some cash, ask me. I can cover the small stuff."
I looked at him.
He was thirty-two, but looked like he barely aged.
When he smiled, he almost seemed likable.
But all I could think about were those three scratches on Emily's arm.
"Edward, what happened to Emily's arm?" I asked.
His smile faded.
"Oh," Edward waved it off. "We had a little spat a few days ago, and I happened to knock over a vase. I already said sorry to Emily."
This was his explanation.
I nodded and didn't say anything else.
Seeing I wasn't going to press him, Edward went back to acting casual.
"By the way, James, how long are you staying this time? If you need a place to crash, I can get you a hotel room," he said.
"No need, I've already booked one," I replied.
"Alright," he said, getting up and grabbing his car keys. "I'm heading out for a bit. Won't be back for dinner. You and Emily can catch up."
He reached the door, then turned back to look at me.
"James, Emily's got everything she needs with the Harris family. Don't worry about her. Focus on your own business," he said.
The door closed behind him.
I sat on the couch, not moving a muscle.