Isabella's POV
The rain hadn't stopped since last night. It slid down my office windows in thin, relentless streaks, like the sky was trying to wash something away and didn't know where to start. I was halfway through pretending to read an email when my phone buzzed across the desk. Unknown number. My stomach dropped.
"Marlowe?" I said, picking up.
"Morning, Miss Sterling," came that gravelly voice. The kind that sounded like it had seen too many late nights and not enough hope. "Apologies for calling so early, but something's come up."
I straightened. "You found something?"
A pause. Paper shuffling. "Let's just say… some of your father's financial records led us to a man named Douglas Hale. Private banker. Retired. He handled a few accounts tied to your stepbrother."
"Adrian?"
"That's right."
My hand tightened around the phone. "And?"
