Chapter Thirteen

Margie Blackwater stormed into Walker Rhomes' lavish office, her eyes blazing with anger. The room was adorned with opulent furniture and expensive artwork, a stark contrast to the fury radiating from Margie. Walker, a tall and imposing figure, sat behind his mahogany desk, a mischievous smile playing on his lips as he observed her entrance.

"Come in, come in, Margie," Walker beckoned, his voice dripping with false charm. He rose from his seat and approached her, his eyes never leaving her face. But Margie was having none of it. She shrugged off his outstretched hands, her voice laced with frustration and determination.

"You promised, Walker," she seethed, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. "You promised that if I gave you the evidence I had on you, you would leave my son and his daughter alone. But you are still having your men hunt my son. This isn't the deal we had."

Walker's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. He circled his desk, leaning aga
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