It’s my fault… all of it. I blame myself for dragging Isla into my shit. It’s been two days since I got my hands on her phone… two fucking days, and as I stare at it inside the transparent nylon bag on the table in the investigator’s office, I can’t help the feeling of dread creeping into me. With all the money and power I possess, I couldn’t do anything for a full day because of the stupid law that says you have to wait twenty-four hours before filing a missing person report. Even after I showed them her damn broken phone. “Mr. Blackwood, I’ll suggest you sit this one out. Joseph Matin Muir will be on his way. Besides, I heard you have your own problems to deal with.” Ah yes, I do. I mean, when don’t I ever have a problem? From the moment I was born into this family, I’ve always had problems. A twisted father who never got satisfaction from anything I did. Who never even saw me as worthy of getting my own inheritance. A sick, twisted wife who fucked around. With a quick exhal
Last Updated : 2025-06-18
