"You can try." My voice was hoarse.
"You can gamble." His voice was flat. "Gamble on whether I'm joking. Don't force me to get rough. You know I have that ability."
The call ended.
I looked at the little dirt mound and reached out one last time to touch the soil.
"Lily, that bad guy is coming to cause trouble again. Be good down there. Don't be afraid."
Bluewater Villa.
It used to be my marital home. Now it was Marcus and Sophia's.
I parked the e-bike outside the wrought-iron gate and was about to go in when a security guard stopped me.
"Hey, hey, hey! What do you think you're doing? Scrap collectors use the back gate!" He waved his hand dismissively.
I glanced down at my shoes. The canvas was peeling at the edges, smeared with black mud.
"Marcus Abbott told me to come."
He snorted. "Mr. Abbott? Mr. Abbott would know a beggar like you? Why don't you piss and look at yourself in—"
A black Bentley pulled up. The window rolled down, revealing Marcus's face.
Five years had added a bit of maturity.
The guard immediately switched to a grin. "Mr. Abbott, there's this crazy woman insisting she's here because you—"
"Let her in."