A Woman Worth Billions Dated the Wrong Brother novel Chapter 424

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A Pretty Flower

Jason POV

Apparently, Jasmine had run out of patience.

I should have expected it. Leaving an eighteen-year-old who had recently been shot outside a suspicious hotel room with nothing to do except listen to other people talk had probably been optimistic from the beginning. Noah had been keeping me updated, and for several hours they had done exactly what Mr. Stait wanted: observe, listen, collect information and avoid confrontation.

Then my phone vibrated.

The message was from Jasmine.

Don’t yell.

I stared at those two words and immediately knew I was going to yell.

Another message arrived before I could respond.

I found something.

There was a photograph attached beneath it.

At first, I didn’t understand what I was looking at. It was a hotel room photographed from an angle that suggested Jasmine had taken the picture quickly. Part of the bed was visible, along with several bottles, discarded glasses and the kind of mess I expected from a room occupied by men who had apparently spent hours drinking.

But in the middle of it all sat a vase of flowers.

Violet flowers.

I frowned and typed back.

Where are you?

Her response came almost immediately.

Technically? Hallway.

I closed my eyes.

Where were you?

This time she took longer.

Room 355. Briefly. Housekeeping uniform. Nobody questioned me. You should add that to the hotel security complaint.

I nearly threw the phone.

“What happened?” Mr. Stait asked.

I looked up at him. “Your daughter happened.”

That got his attention.

I turned the screen around.

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His expression went completely blank as he read Jasmine’s messages.

She did what?”

“Apparently she decided surveillance wasn’t exciting enough.”

Mr. Stait took out his phone.

“Don’t call her yet,” I said. “She sent me something.”

I enlarged the photograph. Jasmine had taken several pictures, but the flowers appeared in every one of them. They were surprisingly delicate, violet-blue blossoms arranged in a vase that looked absurdly elegant against the alcohol bottles and general disorder surrounding them.

Her next message arrived.

These looked wrong.

Then another.

Not wrong like poisonous. Wrong like why do a bunch of drunk men have a carefully arranged vase of pretty purple flowers in their room? Took pictures. Didn’t touch them.

At least she hadn’t touched them.

That was the first sensible thing she’d done.

Emory walked into the room carrying another toxicology report, and I immediately held out the phone.

“Look at this.”

“I’m busy trying to identify a poison nobody can find.”

“That’s why I’m showing you.”

He took the phone with obvious impatience. For the first second, he looked confused.

Then he stopped.

The change was subtle but immediate.

His eyes narrowed. He enlarged the photograph and studied the flowers more carefully. The irritation disappeared from his face.

“Where was this taken?”

“Room 355.”

Emory looked at me.

“The room Noah and Jasmine are monitoring?”

“Jasmine decided monitoring was taking too long and went inside dressed as housekeeping.”

Mr. Stait muttered something I was probably better off pretending I hadn’t heard.

Emory didn’t seem to care about Jasmine’s infiltration anymore. His attention remained fixed on the photograph.

“Do we have a clearer image?”

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I opened the next one.

enlarged it.

Then he went slightly pale.

“Emory?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

“Emory.”

“Those may be aconite flowers.”

The word meant nothing to me.

“What is aconite?”

“A highly toxic plant. Monkshood. Wolfsbane. There are several species, and I’m not identifying one conclusively from a photograph, but the flowers are consistent enough that we need to consider it.”

Mr. Stait stepped closer. “Could that be the third toxin?”

Emory looked toward Amber.

“Yes.”

My stomach dropped.

“Wouldn’t the toxicology tests have found it?”

“Not necessarily. Routine toxicology screens aren’t designed to detect every possible plant toxin. If nobody had a reason to specifically investigate aconite-related compounds, it could be missed.”