“You stole my building. That’s not meeting, Molly,” Jacob grunts.
“I didn’t steal anything. I won a war you shouldn’t have entered into if you didn’t want to lose.” I shrug.
Jacob laughs. “What are you doing in Vegas?”
“I’m buying up some more properties,” I say with confidence.
“She’s trying to anyway,” Alfie adds.
“Wait. Are these the properties you’re blocking?” Jacob looks to Alfie and grins. “Yeah, you’re not going to be able to stop her.”
“We’ll see.” Alfie smiles back at him. “Not all of us are pussies, Jake. Some of us are more equipped to go into battle.”
“Okay, well, that was entertaining. Molly, it’s nice to meet you. And I’m sorry that my husband is a sore loser,” Jazzy says.
“It’s okay. Most men are,” I tell her.
“Yes, they are,” Frankie chimes in. “Except for Emilio. He’s perfect in every single way.” She turns to her husband with lust-filled eyes.
“Is it too late to kill him?” Hudson grumbles.
“It’s never too late,” Alfie replies.
I don’t have siblings or cousins. This is all very new to me. But I can see just how much they really do care. Even if they’re constantly giving each other shit.
I spot Levi Brown eyeing me from across the room and pull my phone out of my clutch to text Angus.
Me:
Now.
“I’m just going to the restroom,” I tell Alfie.
“I’ll come with you.”
“No, I’m fine. Honestly, won’t be long.” I stand and walk away before he can argue with me.
I make my way towards the restroom doors, because I know Alfie is watching. And once there’s enough crowd to get lost in, I turn and make a beeline for Levi Brown, who smiles sleazily at me. I’m not going to feel bad about giving him a shitty price on his building.
“Mr. Brown, you’re a hard man to catch,” I greet him.
“Now that you’ve caught me, what are you going to do with me?” he asks.
“First, I’m going to make it very clear that what I’m offering you is a onetime deal. And you have exactly five minutes to have the contract that just landed in your inbox signed and sent back to me. I think you’ll find the price fair, Mr. Brown.”
“Who the fuck are you?” he hisses.
“Molly Olive, of the Olive Group.”
“Yeah, I’m not selling to you. Fuck off,” he sneers.
“You might want to have a change of heart, Mr. Brown.”
“And why would I do that?” he asks.
“Because if you don’t, the evidence I’ve collected of your son’s embezzlement scheme is going straight to the feds. I already have the email drafted. I also have a press release ready to be sent to every media outlet in this country detailing both your and your son’s involvement in the scheme.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not involved in shit and neither is my son,” he says.
