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“With everything. All of it,” I shrug. “You’re done at the firm, for a start. Clean cut gone. No board seat, nothing.” I level my gaze at him. “And don’t you fucking dare try and fleece us or poach any staff on the way out. It will not end well for you.”
I glance at Gabriel and Taylor to see them smirking at me. I flash them a quick grin and then return my wrathful gaze to Charles.
“You’ll get your contractual payout, no more. Caroline, you have no contract, since you’re only on that board because you gave our grandfather enough blowjobs. So you get shit.”
I savor the moment the panic hits her face.
“If either of you even walk back into Crown and Black, you’ll be arrested on sight for trespassing. Oh, and all the other shit you’re into, Charles? The wheeling and dealing where you try and relive the glory days when you actually were a king-maker?” I grin. “That’s over. You’re out of that now, too.”
Charles’ mouth falls open. But he’s got the good sense to not say anything.
“Look on the bright side, Charles,” Gabriel says cheerfully. “Now you get more time with your dear wife!”
Which sucks for him because, well, Caroline is Caroline. And it sucks for her, because she’s probably going to have to let the old guy fuck her more often, if he still can, because he’ll be around more often.
I take a deep sigh, letting this knowledge warm my spirit before I tap on the contract laid out in front of us.
“It’s all in here. If you choose to go another way, I dig up every single skeleton in your closets, and I swear to fuck, I will put you away for the rest of your life.”
I tap the contract again.
“Sign this or die in jail. Your choice, Charles.”
He’s staring at the contract, fury etched on his face, together with fear.
“I…” He shakes his head. “I could take you down with me,” he mutters. “You… I know you shot Massimo.”
I chuckle. “Charles, please. The things I know about you, your business dealings, and your clients? Go ahead, take me down with you. I’ll get three years. Five, max.” I shrug. “You, however, are looking at twenty-three years, minimum. And with your record at the DOJ?”
“Yikes, Charles,” Gabriel sighs dramatically, shaking his head.
I smile at our grandfather. “That’s twenty-three years without the possibility of parole.” I wince. “Big ouch, Charles. Big, big ouch.”
He grits his teeth, still staring at the contract.
“Charles…” Caroline mumbles next to him.
I hold out a pen and dangle it in his face.
A second later, he snatches it from me, clenches his jaw, and furiously signs the document.
We’re done here.
Taylor, Gabriel, and Tempest end up coming with Eloise and me to the airport, where Andre’s jet is waiting for us.
I hug my sister fiercely, then Taylor. My brother goes to shake my hand, but I roll my eyes and pull him into a bear hug, even if it makes us both wince.
He’s the only brother I’ve got, after all.
On the jet, I pull Eloise into my lap. My lips find hers as we completely ignore the “fasten seatbelt” sign.
“You got lucky, you know,” she murmurs, grinning as she pulls away.
“You mean when I got you, right?”
Eloise blushes deeply, biting her lip. “No, I meant…you know,” she looks down. “Before. Back in…that basement.”
I shake my head. “I’ve told you before. I make my own luck.”
