Game Over, Mr. CEO: Your Wife Is Done (Winter and Chris) novel Chapter 231

Gavin sat in the helicopter on the way back to Liono City with his laptop open in front of him. On the screen was an account that had already been flagged as suspicious.

In a clear, even voice, he said, “The owner of this account was Bart.”

Bart.

It was an old name, but it still hit like something carved into bone. A brutal chill flashed through Chris’s eyes.

The cigarette between his fingers snapped in half. Sparks fell to the floor, and loose tobacco scattered out.

Bart had been the border kingpin who worked with Warren all those years ago, notorious for his ruthless methods.

After Warren got Chris’s parents killed, he and Bart split the parts of the Xander family business they had carved away for themselves.

Then Bart turned on Warren and tried to take everything. Once Warren lost Bart’s backing at the border, his business lost its foundation. Even the airline was hit by the fallout, and the Scott family eventually went bankrupt.

Twelve years earlier, Chris had enlisted and gone undercover at the border for one reason only. He wanted Bart dead.

But he had been too late.

Bart had died of illness ten years ago, just two months before Chris began his undercover assignment.

A bank wouldn’t automatically freeze an account just because the account holder had died. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that someone had been moving money through the account of a man who had been dead for

years.

Gavin continued, “Fabian may have taken over Bart’s operation, but even he couldn’t access that account. Only a legal heir or a spouse could control the money in it. But Bart had no wife and no children.”

Chris already knew enough about Bart’s history.

Bart had never married.

And in all these years, no one had ever touched that account.

So who had access to Bart’s money now?

And who wanted Winter dead?

Fabian’s wealth had long since surpassed anything Bart ever had. He wouldn’t have given that money a second glance. From the way he had acted before, Chris knew exactly what kind of man he was: vindictive, sly, and ruthless, but never subtle about it.

So it couldn’t have been Fabian.

Chris kept his eyes on the frost spreading across the glass door. “Bart was always the kind of man who liked mixing sex with power. He never married, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t leave children behind. There could be children out there no one even knows are his.”

Children born out of wedlock had inheritance rights too.

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And while a dead man’s account couldn’t legally be used for outside transfers, there were still illegal ways to move the money.

“Trace the account,” Chris said.

“Yes, sir,” Gavin replied.

At the biggest farmers market in Liono City, Mrs. Young made her way through the crowded aisles with a shopping basket in hand.

She always liked choosing the ingredients herself before going home to cook a full meal for Chris and Winter.

After picking up some vegetables, she stopped at the fish stall and chose a striped bass she was especially happy with.

Winter loved the way she made grilled fish, and Mrs. Young had already decided she would make it for lunch as soon as she got home.

The market was packed, noisy, and full of people. Focused on her shopping, Mrs. Young never noticed the woman in a black bucket hat and black face mask trailing her from a short distance away.

“Just hold the fish for me once it’s cleaned,” Mrs. Young told the fish vendor. “I’m going to grab a hot sandwich up ahead and then I’ll come right back.”

It was still early. By the time she got back to Blackwood Manor, she figured Winter would probably just be getting up. Winter had mentioned craving one the night before while talking to Gavin, so Mrs. Young thought she might as well bring one home for her.

With her basket in hand, she moved farther into the market. Because of the holiday, the crowd was even heavier

than usual.

It was so packed she could barely see where she was going.

“Oh, easy there,” Mrs. Young cried when someone bumped into her and twisted her ankle.

A hand suddenly caught her by the arm.

She turned and saw a woman in a bucket hat and face mask.

Wincing, Mrs. Young forced a smile. “Thank you, dear. There are way too many people out today.‘

The woman said nothing. She just helped Mrs. Young over to a less crowded stretch near the edge of the market.

Mrs. Young glanced around and murmured, “Didn’t the sandwich stand come today?”

The woman lifted a hand and pointed toward a side alley. Her voice was low and raspy. “I think he went that way.”

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After paying, she tucked the sandwich into her coat pocket and checked the vegetables in her basket. Everything was there. She turned to head back for the fish.

She finished getting dressed and stepped out.

Chris was standing by the door, his dark eyes fixed on her.

“Something happened to Mrs. Young.”

A Bentley sped out of Blackwood Manor.

Inside the car, Winter’s hands and feet had gone ice–cold.

Mrs. Young went to the morning market every day unless it was raining. Ever since Winter moved into Blackwood Manor,

that had been part of Mrs. Young’s routine. Nothing had ever gone wrong before.

So how had something happened now?

Everything had happened while she was still on the road. Mrs. Young’s bodyguard was waiting for them at the police station, so there was nothing Winter could do but wait.

The car pulled into the station.

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As Winter stepped out, sunlight slanted across the side of the building and fell over her pale face. She swayed and nearly collapsed.

A broad chest caught her.

Chris looked down at her, one hand steadying her shoulder, his dark eyes unreadable.

Winter forced herself upright and followed the officer inside.

Outside the morgue, the bodyguard stepped in front of her. “Ma’am, you really shouldn’t go in there.”

“Mrs. Young took care of me for so long. I’m not afraid.” Winter’s eyes were red.

The bodyguard hesitated, then lowered his voice. “She died horribly. Her mouth was smashed so badly it was beyond recognition.”

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