The Bride Goes Rogue (The Fifth Avenue Rebels #3)(19)

“I’m not, and it won’t.”

Nellie shook her head. “You will think more clearly in the morning, I promise.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll tie you down and refuse to let you out of my sight.”

Katherine chuckled, part amusement and part exasperation. “This is ridiculous. You should be helping me, not telling me I cannot go.”

“Katie, you are innocent and sweet. You make lists and dream about art. You try to help your friends find love, just as you hope to one day. I, on the other hand, trust no one because I know how awful people can be, especially men. As such, it is my duty to try and save you from poor decisions.”

Katherine laid her head on Nellie’s shoulder and sighed. She didn’t want to argue. “Thank you for looking out for me. You are a good friend.”

“You’re still planning to go, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” When Nellie made a disbelieving noise, Katherine sat up. “How about this? I will tell you where I’m going. That way, if I disappear, you may give the police my last whereabouts.”

“This is not making me feel better.”

“Well, you could come with me. Meet him to ensure he knows someone is aware of my presence there.”

“That’s not a bad idea. Of course, he’ll likely assume you brought a friend to join in the fun.”

Katherine mulled this over, uncertain she’d heard this correctly. “Wait, two women at once? This is a thing people do?”

Nellie patted Katherine’s knee. “Good thing we’re having our talk tonight. You have a lot to learn.”



At the knock, Preston looked up from his paperwork. “Yes?”

His secretary stood in the doorway. “Your permit to take down that building on Twenty-Third Street was rejected.”

Mouth dropping open, he tossed his pen onto the desk. “That’s impossible.”

This project had been over a year in the making. The insurance company entrusted him with the development and architects were already bidding for the job, for Christ’s sake. It was to be the tallest building in the world when completed, thirty floors high, a structure unlike anything the city or the world had ever seen. In fact, he’d bribed the buildings department official just last week to speed the permit along. The demolition of the existing structure should have been a foregone conclusion, considering Preston owned the land.

“They say someone else holds the deed.”

“Who?”

“They wouldn’t tell me, so I made some calls.”

Of course she did. Mrs. Cohen was resourceful and smart. She always knew which rocks to overturn to find the snakes. “And?”

“It’s Lloyd Delafield.”

Ice settled in his veins as his hands curled into fists. What the ever-loving fucking hell? “I don’t believe it.”

“When the business dissolved that land went with Delafield, apparently.”

“I have a deed that states otherwise.”

Mrs. Cohen shrugged, her colorful aqua dress rustling. She liked to say bright colors made the dreary workday go faster. “Shall I search for another piece of available property?”

“I don’t want another piece of land. There isn’t another like this one, not at such a prominent intersection. Damn it!” He slapped a hand on top of his desk. “I already told Manhattan Surety we have that corner. What are they going to think if I tell them we don’t?”

“I’ll ring your lawyer if you agree to stop cursing.”

“No need,” he said, rising. “I’m going to see Delafield.”

Once in a hack, he dug into his coat pocket for a cigarette. While he didn’t often smoke, only three or four cigarettes in a given week, he needed one at the moment. He needed a clear head to deal with Lloyd.

After the Clarke/Delafield business dissolved, Lloyd Delafield continued buying and selling land throughout Queens, Staten Island, Manhattan and Brooklyn. In recent years, Preston had battled with him many times over various plots, so it didn’t surprise him to learn that Delafield wanted this particular slice. It was one of the best locations in New York, right at Fifth Avenue and Broadway, along the southern edge of Madison Square.

But it belonged to Preston.

Henry Clarke had been a gambler, using the rent he collected from a few properties to fuel his love of cards. Unfortunately, Henry spent more than he earned, and debts were left all over the city. No one suspected a thing until the bank manager visited the house to tell Preston’s mother they were in danger of foreclosure.

At that point, Preston immediately withdrew from school, came home and assumed control of everything. Henry died not long after, and his estate was quickly settled. The deed from the Twenty-Third Street property had still been in the Clarke safe.

Preston had seen the deed with his own two eyes. Any claims to the contrary were a lie. This was a ruse on Lloyd’s part. It had to be. Was this a retaliation for Preston’s refusal to marry Katherine? Or had his success threatened Lloyd?

Well, Preston wasn’t as trusting as his late father. Lloyd had no idea who he was up against.

Once Preston arrived at Delafield’s building, he felt marginally calmer. He went straight up to the office. “Mr. Clarke to see Mr. Delafield.”