“To who?” I asked, and my throat tightened around the words.
“There was a man,” Noah whispered. “Uncle Brandon.”
For a second, the room didn’t make sense.
Brandon Keller.
My business partner. My closest friend. My best man. The guy who held my son as a newborn.
I forced air into my lungs. “What were they talking about?”
Noah’s lip trembled. “They said tonight… something would happen to you. Uncle Brandon said the police would think it was an accident.”
That’s when the part of me that built a construction empire took over.
No panic. No debate.
Just action.
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