Marrying my secret admirer after my husband's fake death novel Chapter 113

Jeffry and his gang of petty thugs practically fled back to the Vale family estate, their retreat little short of a full–on escape.

The others wore sour, defiant looks, clearly still chafing at how things had gone down.

“Jeffry, who was that woman, anyway? Did we really have to bolt like that?” one of the guys grumbled. “Come on, Jeffry, you’ve got connections all over Northcrest–cops and crooks alike know your name. We’re not just some nobodies. She’s just a widow, right? Was it really necessary to turn tail and run?”

Jeffry, nerves frayed, kept glancing anxiously out the window. Only after he was sure no one had followed did he allow himself the briefest sigh of relief.

He rolled his eyes and glared at the group. “You idiots have no idea who you’re messing with, do you?” he spat.

One of the thugs who’d been with Jeffry the longest, emboldened by familiarity, scoffed, “Does it even matter who she is? We shouldn’t be scared off that easy. And to be honest, that woman was pretty easy on the eyes–I was starting to get interested. Then suddenly, we’re out of there like someone set the place on fire. That’s not right, Jeffry. Tonight you owe me, man. Get me a couple of girls–good ones.”

Jeffry shot him a venomous glare. “Are you thinking with anything besides your damn crotch? Do you even realize who was asking questions about us? That was the Sheffield family’s golden boy!”

At the mention of the Sheffield family, the guy who’d just been ogling Edith went pale, visibly shaken. “Wait–the Sheffield family? As in, the old Sheffield family that used to run half the underworld?”

Jeffry grabbed a bottle of red wine–no time for a glass–uncorked it, and took a long swig. “Damn it! How did Edith end up connected to the

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Chapter 113

Sheffields? That nearly got us all killed. I can’t believe we almost ate it because of that woman.”

He sank onto the couch and waved them away. “Alright, enough. Head home, all of you. And listen–if anyone starts asking about what happened tonight, you didn’t see or hear a thing. Got it? Come to me first, no matter what.”

The thugs grumbled, clearly dissatisfied. After all, they’d risked their necks for nothing tonight and didn’t even get a payoff.

But Jeffry was no rookie when it came to the criminal world.

He snorted, “When have I ever let you walk away empty–handed? Odell, take a few of the guys and head over to The Nightingale Club. Enjoy yourselves. Tonight’s tab is on me.”

Odell’s face lit up. “You’re not coming with us, Jeffry? It’s been ages since we all cut loose together–come on, join us for a few rounds!”

Jeffry waved him off. He had other things on his mind–namely, a meeting with Salome.

He hadn’t delivered on his promise tonight, and he owed her an

explanation.

“I’ll pass. You boys have fun.”

Of course, none of them really cared if he came or not. All that mattered was that Jeffry was footing the bill.

***

Past midnight, with the muggy Northcrest air finally cooling off, Jeffry steered the Vale family’s black Mercedes through a backroad shortcut toward the Vance estate.

He rehearsed his excuses in his head, searching for a way to spin his failure so he didn’t come off as completely useless. After all, it had been a simple job, and he’d botched it. If he couldn’t handle something this

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