POV: NicholeAfter that night, the next day…."You are sitting in my chair," Beatrice said as she slammed her designer leather bag into the marble table in front of me.The expensive café was full of quiet socialites and the sound of porcelain cups, but Beatrice did not care about being loud. She stood over me with narrow eyes, waiting for me to get up and leave.I stayed completely still, reached into my coat, pulled out the silver flash drive from Xavier's mother, and dropped it on the stone table right next to her bag."Sit down, Beatrice," I said. My voice was totally flat and I did not show any of the fear she expected from a divorcee. "We need to talk about Raymond's tax records."Beatrice laughed contextually, as she slid into the chair opposite me as she crossed her legs and leaned back with a smug smile. "You think you can scare me with some junk from Xavier's mother? You are just a clerk, Nichole. You do not know how the city works up here.""I know numbers," I said as I pu
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