“I’m not exactly a fan either.” She watched the city disappear behind them as they entered the tunnel and left Manhattan.

“Extra security for you.”

“I don’t have anything the man wants.”

“If that’s true, why did he approach you in the first place?”

Lori hesitated.

“I’m calling Neil.”

“Sam!”

“You can argue, but you’re not going to win. Where are you now?”

“On my way to Trina’s.”

“You’re staying with her?”

“I am.”

“Okay. I’ll make sure there’s a shadow for you when you land back in LA.”

Lori groaned.

“Get over yourself. I’ve had a shadow forever.”

“You’re married to a duke,” Lori reminded her.

“As if anyone cares about that kind of thing these days.”

Lori shrugged. “It impresses people I name-drop on.”

Sam laughed. “Text me your flight information.”

There was no use arguing with the woman.

Besides, she was right.

Once Lori hung up, she flipped around in her cell phone until she located her flight information and forwarded it to Sam. Daytime security only. My brother is staying at my place for a couple weeks.

We’ll see. was Sam’s reply.

When Lori pulled up into the gates of Trina’s estate, security met her at the door by name. Trina was still bouncing off the walls.

“I don’t even want this house,” she yelled after Lori explained a few more details of Alice’s will.

“In a year you can sell them all.”

“It’s all a massive responsibility. And now Ruslan is threatening you.”

“Men like Ruslan intimidate through fear. You take away that control by keeping your cool and not letting him see you sweat.”

Trina glared. “Are you telling me you didn’t sweat?”

“I said don’t let them see you sweat. Ruslan is massive and his bodyguards make him look small. Does the man miss a meal?”

Trina smiled for the first time all day. “Why is he bugging you?”

Lori circled the sitting room they were talking in and opened the curtains wide. “Because he can’t get to you. Maybe he thinks I have some say over any of this.”

“Watch yourself. He’s mean.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Did Avery call you?”

“Yes, she’s coming tomorrow. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”

“Avery’s a handful,” Lori reminded her.

“She’s also self-confident and headstrong. Two things I could really use right about now.”

“In the meantime, we need to draft a plan for you.”

“Plan? What kind of plan?”

“Your estate.”

It took a full minute for Trina to speak. “A will.”

“You’re worth a ton of money. The sooner you have something, anything, in writing the better.”

“I’m young and not ill.”

“It doesn’t have to be extensive. Just the bare minimum. Who you want the estate to go to if something happened. We can amend and add at any time. Think of it this way . . . if the plane crashes, everything that has landed in your lap will now be tossed into probate and most likely end up with the likes of Ruslan. If you’re okay with that, fine. If not. Let’s jot a few things down, have it notarized, and done. I have a colleague who specializes in estate planning and wills. When you want to add more details, we’ll bring him in. Or you can go to him directly. Whatever you want.”

Trina lifted her hand, palm up. “Let me read Alice’s will.”

When someone with as much money as Alice Petrov dies, the world knows about it. About the time Reed found the numbers and information on his own, the media in all the financial magazines and websites took little time announcing the findings in Alice’s last will and testament.

Katrina Petrov was now worth in excess of $383 million and some change. With Everson Oil investing in pipelines and solar, the diversity and growth in the company was up 15 percent in the last quarter alone.

Reed dug up information on Ruslan Petrov, which included pictures.

The thought of this man towering over Lori and threatening her had him seeing red. Men who used their bulk in preying on women needed a few minutes alone in a dark alley alongside someone twice their size. While not twice the man’s size, Reed wouldn’t hold back if given a chance to even the threatening score.

Now the big question was, what had set Ruslan Petrov’s sights on Lori in the first place?

It was well after two in the morning, and Reed was on his third pot of coffee. His computers smoked from use and his eyes blurred.

A massive tackboard flanked an entire hidden wall in his office. An image of Lori sat center, with strings to the women he’d met on the cruise. His client, the one paying him to search for hidden information, sat beside Shannon with a string. Next to Shannon was her ex-husband’s picture.

Lori represented the women in their divorces.

Only Trina didn’t divorce. So how was she linked?

By two thirty, Reed found an article about Fedor’s death in the financial pages. His estate wasn’t left to his brand-new bride. It wasn’t left to his mother, who he knew was dying. No. His minimal shares in the oil company were spread among his aunts and their families. The bulk of his estate went to a multitude of charities. His wife . . . Trina . . . was left their residence and the financial ability to keep the home going for five years after his death.

According to the Wall Street Journal, Trina Petrov was willed the amount of money specified in their prenuptial agreement. Five million dollars and any gifts bequeathed to her during their marriage.

Five million dollars from an estate worth well over one hundred million.

Reed followed the bouncing ball and found Lori’s name as the attorney that set up the agreement between husband and wife, premarriage.

A sticky note went next to Trina’s picture with five million written on it.

Then he looked up Avery’s divorce settlement. Five million and a condo.

Shannon . . . seven million and the house in Southern California.

Reed scribbled a house next to Trina’s five million.

He stood looking at the board, arms folded over his chest.

He knew how all these marriages ended. And since he met Lori with these women, it’s safe to say they all had the same lawyer, and the same general plan. The numbers were big, but not shocking when you considered the worth of the players. All these women were young. Their marriages brief.

His skin tickled his brain, or maybe that was the caffeine.

He backtracked Trina’s marriage. She had been married less than a year before Fedor’s death.

He searched Shannon . . . two years from I do to divorced.

Avery . . . eighteen months.

No smoking guns, outside of Fedor.

No one caught cheating or falling in love with someone else. All the marriages appeared normal, including pictures of the couples at charity events, holiday functions. Then done!

At four in the morning, Reed had printed out four wedding photos from each couple. Shannon and Paul seemed to fit each other. Avery and her ex looked as if she was the gold digger and he was the rich old man looking for arm candy. Trina and Fedor were a bit better matched, but the man didn’t stand close enough or smile wide enough for someone who’d managed to catch a woman as exotically beautiful as Katrina.

He found images of Lori at every wedding.

And one other woman.

Reed placed a picture next to Lori’s.

Samantha Harrison.

“How do you fit?”

It was after noon on Saturday when Lori stepped off the plane and found the bodyguard Sam had insisted on waiting by baggage claim. Not that Lori had any luggage.

“Cooper, right?” Lori asked. She’d seen him many times before. The security surrounding the clients of Alliance and the Harrison family were the same net of men.

“I’m flattered.” The man had a charming smile, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses that should have stuck out since he was inside a building. They didn’t. “Luggage?”

She glanced at the small rolling bag in her hand. “This is it.”

He took it from her and led her out the door.

“Neil briefed me on the threat,” he said when she was in the back of the car and he’d pulled away from his parking space.

“Sounds very cloak-and-dagger,” she teased.

“Ruslan Petrov is loosely linked to the disappearance of three businessmen in his country, one of whom was a lawyer representing his late ex-wife during her divorce. He’s a dangerous man.”

She stopped smiling.

Cooper glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

“Knowing your enemy, and what they are capable of, empowers you. I’m not trying to scare you, Ms. Cumberland.”

“You did a fine job without trying.”

“Neil told me you were a reluctant charge.”

“Let me guess, Neil drafted your little speech.”

Cooper looked over his shoulder as he pulled onto the 405 freeway. “No, Neil told me to say ‘Tell her if she wants to be dead, then go ahead and dismiss you.’”

She glanced at the passing cars. “Sounds like Neil.”