Chapter Eleven

"He's examining the ring. He hasn't left his room since Melissa's death. I'd bring him food but all he does is look at pictures from the scene and that ring," I said softly.

"You've done well, Miss. Wilson. Paul, pay her."

Paul came up beside me and handed me a small bag of money. "Miss. Wilson," he said calmly. I took the bag and checked the contents.

"I trust that this is the 5,000 pounds we agreed upon?" I inquired.

"If it's alright with you, I raised it to 20 thousand pounds," Malcolm replied. I glared at him.

"I said 5 so I wouldn't raise Mr. Grace's suspicions," I told him. "If I go home with 20, he'll suspect something."

"Calm down, Miss. Wilson," Paul soothed as he began rubbing my shoulders. I shrugged him off and walked up to Malcolm.

"Malcolm, I don't want him to think I've betrayed him. It would destroy him," I whispered. He suddenly held me against him. He gripped my throat tightly in his right hand while his left wrapped around my waist.

"Don't you want your father put away for what he did? Don't you want him punished for taking your mother from you?" I nodded weakly, hardly able to breathe. "Then you will take my money and continue spying on Mr. Jackson Grace." His arm tightened slightly. "I'd rather you hurt by the one you love than you get hurt by a bastard."

I closed my eyes tightly, as his sick mouth covered mine. His snake-like tongue lightly caressed my lower lip. I whimpered with disgust. He suddenly pushed me away and I stumbled into Paul.

"Take her home," Malcolm growled.

"Goodbye, Malcolm," I snarled, gripping my cane and bag.

"Until next week, Miss. Wilson."