CHAPTER HUNDRED AND TWENTY-THREE

RICHARD’SPOV

"Are you sure that's real?" Brenda sputtered, her perfectly manicured fingernail finding its way between her teeth. "That transfer, I mean. It's not... manipulated or anything?"

I laughed. "Honey, you're starting to sound paranoid. You think I hacked into Bill Gates' account or something?"

"Well, you never know these days," she mumbled, her eyes darting between Hawthorne's phone and the door, as if expecting the FBI to storm in and arrest me for fraud. "For all we know, you could be running some elaborate scam."

"Brenda, sweetheart, if I were running a scam, don't you think I'd aim a little higher than a used car dealership?" I said, my voice laced with amusement. “I could have easily swiped my card at Hawthorne Motors, you know. Saved us both a lot of time. But where's the fun in that? I wanted you to see this. To see the opportunity you just flushed down the toilet with your little judgmental attitude."

Brenda went silent, her face a mask of disbelief and dawni