He paused just long enough for me to hear someone set down a glass.
“One push over the railing, and the ocean takes care of everything.”
I felt my stomach turn so violently that I nearly lost my balance.
For an impossible moment, I searched for an innocent explanation, some terrible misunderstanding that could make the conversation less monstrous.
Then Aidan asked about the money.
“Once she’s gone, how long before we can access the three hundred million?” he asked.
Flynn laughed softly.
“She signed the power of attorney before the wedding, and while everyone’s searching for her, we start moving the assets.”
Fiona made a delighted little sound, the same one she had made when I presented her with diamond earrings at our rehearsal dinner.
“Three hundred million dollars,” she whispered.
The delicate clink of champagne glasses followed.
They were celebrating my planned death with champagne purchased by my father, aboard a yacht belonging to his fleet.
