All Chapters of The Billionaire's Nun (The Van Dyke Sisters 4): Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Chastity thought it best to lie low, as criminals would say, in the city. She had gone to George Nelson’s townhouse. He had been happy to see her. She visited him for an hour and a half and then went to Ernest’s apartment. She hadn’t seen him since she had quit Carlyle. He was surprised yet happy to see her. They had chatted about her future plans, and he told her about what was going on in the finance department at Carlyle. He had asked if she wanted to stay and watch a movie and order a pizza. She had happily took him up on that offer. They watched ‘To Catch a Killer’, ordered pizza which was pretty good. Chastity wasn’t big on pizza normally. They also ate popcorn. It was about seven o’clock in the evening by the time she had left his apartment. Chastity drove around the city. She thought enough time had gone by to call her go to. She hit the button on the dash for her cell to make the call. The phone rang in the Corvette her father had gotten he

The next day . . .Julian was at B&B in his office. But he couldn’t get anything done. Chastity kept tiptoeing in his mind.The phone buzzed.“Yes?”“Your father is here to see you,” his secretary said.“Let him in.”Within seconds his father breezed into the room. He wore a gray suit and a matching silk tie. “Hey, what’s going on?”“What do you mean?” He closed the door. “I mean we acquire a company that’s worth over three hundred million dollars and I just get an email from you saying that. One line. You don’t call me to schedule a celebratory drink?”“Oh. I . . . had other business to attend to.”“Like?” his father asked as he approached his desk.“Nothing to do with the company. It’s personal business,” Julian said solemnly.“Sounds like whatever it is, it’s got you down. Want to talk about it?”“No – Well, yes. Maybe you can advise me.”Who is better to talk to about this than my father?His father sat down in a brown leather chair across from his mahogany desk.

The next day, Julian was in Boston. He had flown there on the Beaumont jet. He just had to see this place – and Chastity. First, he checked into his hotel room at the Four Seasons. He freshened up and headed out. He had gotten a rental car from the airport. Julian had put the address of St. Barbara’s Convent in his Waze app and got going. The traffic wasn’t bad, but he figured by the time he got to the convent it would be. It was almost lunchtime. He pulled up in front of Saint Barbara’s Convent. It was a brown brink building that looked like a church. Triangle roof with a cross on top. He took a deep breath and got out of the car. It didn’t look like a dump that was for sure. Julian walked up the walkway. The September breeze ruffled his blond hair a little. It was definitely fall. He wasn’t sure if he should just walk in or ring the bell. Since he was a man, he opted to ring the bell. He didn’t want to scare any young wafes

Cassandra Beaumont and Caitlin Van Dyke-Beaumont cordially invites you to the celebration of nuptials of Hector & Agatha Beaumont The formal reception will be at Gotham Hall 1356 at 36th Street on October 13th at five p.m. Gotham Hall was a grand venue. It featured a nine thousand square feet ballroom, seventy-foot ceiling and an ornate stained-glass skylight. The lighting was a subdued royal blue. Round tables were everywhere. There was an eight-piece orchestra and space left for a dance floor. There were buffet bars for almost everything. A seafood bar filled with lobster dishes, cracked crab, shrimp cooked in various ways, oysters - fried and raw, salm

The next day . . . Being at the Beaumont townhouse was the last place Chastity wanted to be, but she had no choice. Chastity patiently sat in the living room - waiting. Julian had let her wait for nearly twenty minutes before he decided to grace her with his presence. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I was icing my jaw,” he said sarcastically. Chastity stood. “You don’t look any worse for the ware.” “Ha!” Julian yelped. “What can I do for you?” “I . . . came to apologize for hitting you last night.” His blond brow rose. “Something is up.” “I beg your pardon?” “I know the Van Dyke creed enough to know you and yours don’t apologize for a damn thing you do. So, what’s the real deal?” Drat. She had to come clean. “The real deal is I went to confession this morning, and I told the priest about . . . this wolf who was trying to lead me astray,” she worded carefully