Fran betas, Jill, Ariel, and Pearly preread!


Jacob Ephraim Black is a dog.

I didn't leave the office last night. Instead, I stayed and dug up everything I could on the heir of the Black Oil fortune.

He comes from a long line of astute, serious businessmen, but he doesn't seem to have the same drive for it. He may have attended Harvard Business School, but since graduating last year, he's spent all his time on Daddy's private jet visiting exotic locations and screwing even more exotic women.

His contacts are full of female names he calls 'gorgeous,' 'beautiful,' or 'baby' to avoid mixing them up.

He's good-looking, I suppose. Long midnight hair, russet skin. Apparently, he's of Native American descent, and his father is well respected in the community. But not Jacob.

Jacob is a scoundrel that's pissing their life and everything they hold dear away.

I hate him. I could ruin him. It'd be so easy to leak the pictures and videos of passed-out college girls he's fucking into the world and bring his whole life crashing down around him.

After falling asleep on the small pull-out couch in my office, all I know is that I have to be there for her date, Friday. If only to make sure he's not doing anything more nefarious than taking advantage of inebriated women, like slipping them drugs or something.

I must be channeling my inner Sting—the man who wrote and sang Every Breath You Take by The Police, for all you youngin's out there—and let me tell you, no one stalks as well as a member of the Human Intelligence Branch of the FBI does. Maybe I should pull a Diddy and do my own remix.

Because every breath they take, every move they make, I'll be watching them.

It's my duty.

Serve and protect and all that shit.


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