Rebel Read online Helen Hardt (Wolfes of Manhattan #1)

Categories Genre: Biker, Erotic, MC Tags Authors: Series: Wolfes of Manhattan Series by Helen Hardt
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 81407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
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I stood, hot anger taking me over. “That’s insane. I wasn’t even in the state when this happened.”

“Calm down,” Morgan said.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Reid said. “How do you know they’re Rock’s?”

“We ran them.”

“But how—”

I stopped him with a gesture. “I was arrested a couple years ago for brawling in a bar, okay? The charges were dropped, but not before they took my prints and a mug shot. But I’ll remind you again that I wasn’t in this damned state when my father was killed.”

“I know that, and it’s been corroborated,” Hank said. “But someone sure wants us to think you were there.”

“Probably my bastard of a father,” I said.

“Rock,” Roy said, “why would Dad put you in charge of his company and then have himself killed and try to frame you for his murder? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Did the asshole ever make sense in his life?” I roared.

“Not as a father, no,” Reid agreed. “But this is his business. If he left it in your hands, he sure as hell wouldn’t want you hauled off to prison. Then what? According to his will, none of us would get anything.”

I scoffed. “Maybe that was his plan the whole time.”

Both my brothers’ eyes widened. Yeah. I’d made them think. And while they didn’t want to believe what I’d said, their eyes told me they weren’t totally convinced.

“Do you have any enemies?” Hank asked me.

“Other than my dead father? No.”

“You just said you were in a fight in a bar.”

“With an asshole from out of town who tried something on one of my friends, but he was hardly the type who could have a billionaire murdered to frame me.”

“How do you know? Do you remember his name?”

“Hell, no, I don’t remember his name. I never saw him again. Go get the police report if you want details.”

“I will. But for now, think back. You’ve been gone from New York a long time. Did you leave any unfinished business here? Or maybe in Montana? Did you have a falling out with anyone? Something major?”

I’d had more than that one brawl in biker bars, but none of those jerks were smart enough to plant my fingerprints on a weapon. “None that I can think of.”

“How about women? A jilted lover, maybe?”

I hadn’t had any serious relationships to speak of. I’d dated a few women, but everything had always ended amicably. At least I’d thought so. I only got serious with one. Of course I’d had my share of no-strings fucks as well. “No.”

“Work problems?”

“No.”

“All right. Good enough. We’ll have to attack it from your father’s angle then. There must be someone who wanted your father dead and wanted you blamed for it. Any ideas?”

“I’m sure a lot of people wanted my father dead,” I said. And I’m one of them.

“I can’t disagree with my brother,” Reid said. “Derek Wolfe had plenty of enemies. But it was all business.”

“Business with the wrong people can lead to things like this,” Morgan said. “I don’t have to educate you on that.”

Reid nodded solemnly.

He knew something. Something he’d better fucking tell me when I could get him alone. I’d been thrown into this raging fire against my will, and I needed all the information available.

“I’m going to need access to all your father’s business records. I need names of people he clashed with in business.”

“You’re going to be looking for a needle in a haystack,” Reid said.

“Understood. But I’ve found those needles before. I intend to find it this time.”

“I don’t get it,” I said. “I’ve been gone since I was eighteen years old. Not one of my father’s business contacts would know anything about me. Who would want to drag me into this?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Wolfe. But I will do my best to find out.”

22

Lacey

The cab dropped me at my apartment. I whisked quickly past the doorman and stood, waiting for the elevator.

Horny and waiting for the elevator.

This was so crazy. Rock was a jerk. A really sexy and hot jerk, but a jerk, nonetheless. Oh, he was definitely his father’s son, a comparison he’d hate.

Derek Wolfe had been a huge womanizer and had left a string of broken hearts in his wake. He’d cheated on his wife, Connie, and then on his girlfriend, Fonda. It was no secret at my firm. One of my partners handled the hush money, and it amounted to millions.

Rock Wolfe didn’t have any money. Well, he did now. But before now, I had no doubt that he’d left a lot of broken hearts behind in Montana. Like father, like son.

God, he’d hate that.

No matter how true it was.

Time to forget about Rock Wolfe. The elevator dinged, and my neighbor, Paul Hansen, walked out.

“Hey, Lace. What are you up to tonight?”

“A hot bath.”

Paul was dressed to kill in casual black pants, a red cotton button-down, and a black leather blazer. With his blond hair, hazel eyes, and fair skin, he was handsome and sexy. But he was nothing like Rock Wolfe. The anti-Rock.


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