"Mr. Grant, you..."
Before Shirley Thorne could ask anything, Ethan Grant cut her off.
"Florence, take my wife home."
Florence stepped forward. "Yes, sir."
The moment Shirley Thorne heard this, she immediately bristled. "Go home? I'm not going back! Aren't the police here?"
She wanted to see who was behind this—was it Josephine Grant, Warren Grant, or all of them combined?
And what was the deal with the fire in the lounge, anyway?
Shirley Thorne stole a glance at Ethan Grant, her eyes full of pleading as she flashed him an eager-to-please smile.
Ethan Grant's gaze was naturally icy. He stared at her for a moment, then turned away. "Suit yourself."
Shirley Thorne gave herself a mental thumbs-up!
She knew it. As long as her request wasn't too out of line, the big-shot tycoon wouldn't be bothered.
Florence didn't want to go back either. She wanted to see what had really happened in that lounge and what kind of shady business was behind it.
