Chapter 417 The Plot

• Far from the mansion, in a dim café on the edge of the city, Linda nursed a cup of coffee gone cold. The silk gown she had flaunted the night she was thrown out was gone, replaced by a dark coat and sunglasses that did little to hide the bitterness twisting her face.
• Across from her sat a man with sharp eyes and a leather-bound notebook…the private investigator she had been paying with the last of her jewels.
• “You were supposed to have something by now,” she hissed, fingers drumming against the chipped table.