The Divorced Heiress Is Entering a New Marriage

Maybe Dylan should be afraid. Maybe he would be.

If he didn’t have his desktop microphone on and wasn’t recording this entire conversation.

“You act like Senior has the whole system rigged,” Dylah said. “Lawyers. Judges. Is everyone in his pocket?”

“Continue throwing your lot in with Logan Hatfield and you will find out.” Mr. Smith turned toward the door. “Good day to you, Dylan.”

The minute he was out the door, Dylan huffed out a breath, “What a dick.”

Looking back at his computer, he stopped the recording. Then he double–checked to make sure the recording was clear. It was, picking up every word.

Satisfied, Dylan picked up his phone.

I stood nearby as Logan fielded a call from Dylan. I couldn’t hear all that was said on Dylan’s side but I gathered enough to know Senior had threatened Dylan’s career. His livelihood. I was so angry that I started to tremble with it.

“We can’t let them get away with this,” Logan said. Then he listened a moment. “What do you mean, you have a recording?” Another moment of quiet. “Actually. I have an idea what we can do with that recording…”

Logan looked at me. We must have thought the same thing at the same moment, because I smiled at him. and nodded.

“Hazel. Invite Maria and Mike over as soon as they are able.” Into the phone, he said, “Dylan. Bring that recording. We’re about to make my grandfather very unhappy.”

As Mike and Maria were working, we had to wait until the end of the day to meet up. After they and Dylan arrived, we ordered delivery and everyone gathered around the table. Mike set up his laptop and we all peered over his shoulders.

“The audio file?” Mike asked. ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

Dylan handed him a flash drive. Mike inserted it into one of his laptop’s USB slots.

Maria, standing directly behind Mike, placed her hands on his shoulders. “You show them, baby,” she said.

Mike blushed a little. “All I’m doing is uploading a file…

“Still!” Maria praised him like he was winning a marathon. “I’m so proud.”

Their on–again off–again relationship had been tumultuous since it began, but looking at them now, watching Maria easily praise Mike who ate up every word, I had a feeling this pair might keep their act together this time. Maybe they just needed a cause to fight for together.

I was glad this could be the glue that might hold them together permanently. It gave this otherwise shitty situation a silver lining.

“Play it first,” Logan said. “I want to hear it.”

“Alright.” Mike played the recording, and Dylan and Mr. Smith’s voices filled up the kitchen.

Dylan closed his eyes and crossed his arms.

I shivered slightly, remembering the cold eyes of Mr. Smith as he threatened me. Logan, noticing, slipped his arm around my waist. I curled into the safety and warmth of his chest. It kept away the worst of the

chill.

In the recording, Mr. Smith made some damning claims about Mr. Hatfield Senior and how he considered himself above the law.

Logan stiffened somewhat as the threats were made against Dylan’s career. Dylan had already told him about them, but I could understand, the threats sounded even worse coming straight from Mr. Smith himself, without Dylan’s flippant attitude lightening the tone.

The recording ended with Dylan’s grumbling. “What a dick.”

“That’s it,” Mike said.

“Dylan,” Logan said. He gently nudged me back so that he could fully face his friend. “I know this was my idea, but are you sure about this? There is no question that is you on the recording. It will be difficult to dény you were the one recording it.”

Dylan laughed. “Post it. Does it really matter if Senior knows it was me? The man is threatening me regardless.”

“He could actually make good on his threats…” Logan said.

“Let him try,” Dylan said. “I’m not going to be bullied into silence. We’ve been friends a long time Logan. You know me better than to think I’d stop playing just because some pompous jerk wants to flip the table.”

Logan smiled. “I just had to be sure. It’s be easier to back off…”

“Yeah, but that would be way less fun,” Dylan said. To Mike, he said again, “Post it.”

“Post it, baby,” Maria said, squeezing Mike’s shoulders “I’ve got a great feeling about this. This could be the big one that draws attention to the site.”

“We still need to bring unique clicks,” Mike said. “It doesn’t matter how damning our evidence if no one

sees it.”

His words sit with me for a while. There has to be a way to get more eyes on this… Looking at Logan, considering all of the connections he must have, I said, “What if we left a few hints for the media…”

Logan glanced at me. “My father is likely controlling the news.”

“He can’t be in charge of every station…” I said, feeling slightly diminished.

“Maybe every television station,” Maria said, speaking up. “But not every influencer.”

“Influencers are hardly reputable,” Dylan said.

“Maybe,” Maria said. “But they bring the views. If we could convince even one or two to cover this story. the rest would follow because of the trends.”

“If everyone is talking about the story, the news organizations will have to cover it,” I added. “Or everyone

will know they are as corrupt as we believe them to be

“We’ll be forcing their hand,” Logan said. “I like it. But how do we make it happen?”

“A few hefty donations would grease the wheels,” Mike said. “But they’d have to be made to the right people.”

“I know just who to ask,” Maria said. When we all looked at her, she shrugged. “Come on, you guys don’t think I watch television, do you? I live for this stuff.”

“By all means, then. We leave it to you,” Logan said. “Just tell me who to make the checks out to.”

“It would be money transfers,” Mike said.

“Same difference,” Maria said, and started listing influencers faster than Mike could type them.

When Logan and I went to bed that night, we kissed each other good night.

“I don’t know what tomorrow will bring,” Logan said, “But I’m glad we tried something. Since Mother… I’d been feeling helpless. It’s good to have direction again.

I agreed. “I’m also glad to see you, Maria, and Mike working together. I was sure they didn’t like you… Uh…

sorry…”

“I deserved their distain after how I acted under my grandfather’s orders,” Logan said, unoffended. “I can only hope to prove myself worthy of their friendship in the future.”

As my husband, he’d have many chances. I wasn’t giving up him or them as my friends.

I kissed him again.

Eventually, we went to sleep.

The next morning, we brushed our teeth and went downstairs. I started coffee while Logan turned on the television in the living room.

“Hazel,” he said, his voice strangely serious for so early in the morning. “Come look at this.”

I left the coffee maker half–filled and walked into the living room. Logan was standing in front of the television. Joining him, I saw what he saw.

One of the twenty–four hour news stations was interviewing a well–regarded lawyer about corruption. Underneath, in the text bar describing the conversation, a striking sentence was written.

Is Mr. Hatfield Senior Above The Law?

Holy crap.

It worked. The website went viral.