Sleeping With A Wall Street Banker

Marlene Morgan

Description

Sleeeping With A Wall Street Banker: A gripping psychological thriller. Not since "Fatal Attraction" has a story been so engaging and suspenseful.

Lawyer Alice Francis leaves her life in London for a new start with Wall Street banker Jake Logan in New York. She learns quickly that Jake is a man consumed by his need to control. He loves but does so on his own terms. When Jake’s ex-girlfriend, Jessica, finds out about Jake’s relationship with Alice, Alice’s life takes a dark turn. Despite the trappings of success from a Wall Street career, Jake is a man tormented by the irrational guilt he carries from his past relationship with Jessica. Jessica is unmarried and childless with a biological clock that has all but stopped ticking, and Jake is her back-up plan. Jessica’s intent is to blackmail Jake and force him into a horrible relationship that was never meant to be. When Alice enters the picture, though, Jessica’s plans are turned upside down. Mentally unbalanced, she resorts to extreme measures. If she can’t have Jake, no one will.

Sujets

• Thrillers
• Drama
• Suspense
• Thriller
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Archway Publishing
• Date de parution: 09 juin 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781665741385
• Langue: English

Extrait

Also by Marlene Morgan
Revenge I Will Have






SLEEPING WITH A WALL STREET BANKER

JAKE LOGAN #1




MARLENE MORGAN









Copyright © 2023 Marlene Morgan.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.



Archway Publishing
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Bloomington, IN 47403
www.archwaypublishing.com
844-669-3957

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6657-4137-8 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-4136-1 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-4138-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023905558



Archway Publishing rev. date: 6/2/2023



To Daniel, who has been a rock of stability in my life.
To Mom: Everything you did made me stronger. You made me the person I am today.
And to my father, whose loving spirit sustains me still.
















You can spend minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months overanalyzing a situation; trying to put the pieces together, justifying what could’ve, would’ve happened … or you can just leave the pieces on the floor and move the fuck on.
—Tupac Shakur



CONTENTS
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2
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1
Greenwich, Connecticut
T he ambulance raced through Greenwich. Its sirens, which could be heard for miles, fell silent as it turned into Greenwich Hospital.
A police show of force awaited the ambulance outriders, adding to their numbers. Hospital security tightened as the media circus gathered outside. The ambulance’s lights extinguished seconds after it stopped outside the emergency entrance.
Jake Logan had arrived at the hospital two minutes before the ambulance pulled up to the entrance. He stood inside the entrance and watched as the paramedics, Pete and Liz, whisked the stretcher into the emergency department’s operating theater.
“The patient is a female in her early thirties,” Pete told the gathering emergency team. “Assistance, please!”
Liz and two members of the emergency department helped Pete roll a scoop stretcher under the patient and lift her onto the hospital gurney. Pete continued to brief the team while they removed the scoop. As he spoke, he turned his head toward Dr. Milner, who was checking her vital signs.
“The patient was confused at the scene,” Pete said. “We were unable to verify many of the details relating to the incident.”
“She’s unresponsive!” Dr. Milner said. “Her breathing is abnormal. Crash team!”
In an instant, roles changed. The crash team commenced CPR.
Seconds passed.
“She’s defibrillating!” the monitoring emergency medic said. “Clear!”
The nurse giving CPR ceased chest compressions. Another team member moved in with a defibrillator. Once the electric shock was delivered to the patient, all eyes turned to the monitor, searching for a heartbeat.

In the visitors’ waiting room, Jake paced back and forth. She was so still—not moving. Not breathing. Stop! You don’t know that. What the hell happened at the house?
Douglas, his limousine driver, had called and said Miss Alice had been stabbed and was on her way to Greenwich Hospital. He had given only a few other details: he had seen a woman go into the house, and when Miss Alice, who was always punctual, had not come out to the car at her appointed time, he had gone into the house and found her in a pool of blood. Jake could not help thinking that Jessica had something to do with this disaster.
Annabel! I did not call Alice’s sister. He pulled his cell phone out, but there was no cellular reception in the waiting room. Continuing to thumb through his phone contacts, he walked out of the waiting room and toward the hospital’s front entrance.
Outside, Jake entered 44, the international dialing code for England, in front of Annabel’s cell number. She answered on the fifth ring. She sounded drowsy, but that did not surprise him; it was after midnight in England.
“I’m sorry to call you so late, but—”
Annabel stumbled to her feet as Marcus turned on a light. “Jake, what’s wrong ? Alice—where is Alice? Is she OK?”
“There’s been an incident, a bad incident, and Alice is in the hospital.”
“What? Are you serious? No, you can’t be serious. What incident?”
I think my ex-girlfriend gutted her. Jake composed himself. “I don’t know who did it or why, but she’s been stabbed and is in the OR as we speak.”
“OR!”
“Sorry. Operating theater,” he said, remembering English terminology.
“Can you tell her mother?”
“Me? Why me? This can’t be happening.”
Jake looked up and saw the reporters in front of the hospital. “Listen to me, Annabel. I promise you this terrible news is real; it won’t be long before some news reporter calls your mother.”
“OK, OK.”
He could hear Marcus in the background, asking her what had happened. “I know this can’t be easy.” He did not say more.
“I will call you back.” Annabel ended the call.
Jake’s gaze went back to the reporters. He recognized Edward Bernstein of the Wall Street Journal , a close friend of Alice’s. He was embracing someone—a fellow colleague, Jake assumed. Bernstein was staring over the colleague’s shoulder directly at Jake. He knows. Fuck, he knows.
Jake turned to go back into the hospital but stopped when Bernstein called to him. The sound of his voice came closer. Jake felt his hand gently touch his arm. He turned to face him. The woman was at his side.
“Hey, I thought it was you. Alice has told me so much about you.”
And you think she did not talk to me about you? Jake did not want to sound defensive and, hoping he could quickly get rid of him, said, “All good, I hope.”
Bernstein just smirked. He turned to face the woman. “This is Zara, a colleague and friend. We worked together at the New York Times . Zara, this is Jake Logan, a friend of a friend.”
“There’s a lot of excitement around here. Are you visiting somebody in the hospital?” said Zara.
Bernstein did not wait for Jake to reply and said to Zara, with his stare fixed on Jake, “What’s the latest on the hospital victim? Do we have a name?”
Zara shook her head. “No. A spokesperson for the police just announced they’ll hold a press conference once the next of kin has been contacted.” She grinned and could not contain her excitement.
“In the last update I received, the police were not ruling out a connection between this incident and this morning’s discovery of a man’s body in an apartment in New York,” Edward said. His eyes pierced Jake.
Jake fought to hide the shock on his face. He was desperate to take his leave of them.
“Have the police identified the owner of the apartment?” Zara asked.
“Yes. Jessica Brooks.”
“Who’s Jessica Brooks?”
“An aspiring art dealer.” Bernstein did not add where he had heard the name or that he had heard it before that day. He continued his eye contact with Jake.
Why do these people enjoy train wrecks? “I thought you were with the Wall Street Journal . Isn’t a dead body outside your job spec?” Jake asked.
“Still with the Wall Street Journal ,” Edward replied. “My sources inform me there’s a connection with Wall Street.”
Jake struggled to contain his anger. You smug jerk. It’s clear to me now why Alice and you never got to first base. “Sorry, guys, but I don’t want to miss visiting time. Nice meeting you, Edward.” His shoulder turned gently to the right. “You too, Zara.” He walked away and back into the hospital.



2
London, three years and nine months earlier
W hen Jake walked into the main room at Tate Modern, his attention was drawn to the woman at the other end. She was animatedly talking with a host from the KBW accountancy firm. He observed not only how she talked but also how she listened attentively. She was dressed in a charcoal-gray suit with a silk scarf draped on her arm. When she laughed, her smile radiated throughout the room.
As the woman meandered through the collection of modern and contemporary art, Jake followed at a distance. He noted the graceful way she moved and how elegant she looked as she went from room to room.
Several rooms had been cordoned off for the KBW event. The firm had invited clients from a variety of business sectors. Jake didn’t take his