Page 72 of Shattered Dynasty


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“There’s something I didn’t tell you—” I start, but she cuts me off.

“You’re having sex with Trent Aldridge, just like you did his father,” she hisses under her breath.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” I grip my books to my chest. Tight. My head shakes so hard it leaves me dizzy. “No. Nope. Never. Why do you think that?”

“What else can I think, Payton? Ronald left you all the money. The money that should have been mine.” She grinds her teeth.

“I didn’t ask for that.”

“Yeah. Okay. Whatever.” She doesn’t believe me. It’s clear in her voice. “Why don’t you tell me your excuse for screwing me over this time?”

“I can’t get Trent to give me the money early. I can’t even get money to pay for rent near the college.”

“Sure.” She nods her head. It’s condescending as hell, and she knows it. “That’s why you’re on campus right now. I highly doubt that. Cut the crap, little sis.”

“Do you really think it was that easy? That Trent just took over the bills, and I lived happily ever after? A piece of shit like him?”

The words feel dirty coming out of my mouth, mostly because he’s nice to everyone but me, and it’s hard to call him names like that after he reunited Henry with his son.

I pummel forward, feeling dirtier and dirtier each second. “It wasn’t that easy. He doesn’t want to sleep with me. He hates me.”

“Probably because you were banging his father,” she deadpans.

I take a deep breath. Bite my cheeks and try to calm down before I lose it on her. That will do me no good.

“I wasn’t.” I shrug. “I don’t know what else I can say to prove it to you.”

“Why should I believe you? You’ve always wanted what I had.”

I shake my head back and forth. “What are you talking about? I’ve never—” I stop myself. Take in a deep breath. Exhale it once I’m calm enough to. “You know what? No. Let’s not do this here. What you don’t know is that Trent is extorting me. There’s no other way to say it. He’s extorting me.”

“For sex?”

I shudder at her inquisition. “Not everything is about sex.”

“Well, what else would he extort you for?” Her curt voice lashes out at me.

I turn up my chin. “Money to pay my bills. He kicked me out of the house. He canceled my college tuition payment. He had my car repossessed. The only reason I’m even going back to school is because I caved to his demands.”

She stares at the expensive textbooks in my arms, full of disbelief and accusations. “What exactly are these demands?”

“I’m his cleaning lady.” It’s the ugly truth. I almost shrivel inside myself as I say the words. “He calls me his maid, but really, I’m on call for every demand beyond cleaning. I clean his house. I do random tasks in his house. I live in his house.”

She narrows her eyes as if she’s not sure she believes me. “You’re staying at his fucking house, but you really aren’t sleeping with him.”

“Jesus! God! No!” I tuck my textbooks under one arm and throw up my free hand. “What more do I have to say to make you listen?”

She tosses her brown hair behind her shoulders. “Maybe I should sleep with him, then.”

“Erin.” I hold back a snort, unable to even imagine Trent caving. “Trust me when I say he hates both of us.”

“Fine,” she says, but she obviously doesn’t believe that any man could hate her. “Make another deal with him for extra cash. It’s the least you can do after everything I gave up because of you.”

Her words hang heavy in the air.

All I can do is nod.

I don’t know what else to say to her. A part of me wants to tell her to leave me alone, but another part knows that she did take care of me.

There’s truth to her words.

I do owe her my life.

When I get the money, I’m going to give her half, and then I’m going to leave.

Start fresh somewhere.

“I’ll talk to Trent,” I tell her.

Just as she opens her mouth to say something, my phone starts to ring. I pull it out, but before I can see who’s calling, she grabs it from my hand.

“Why the fuck is he calling you?” she snaps. And the accusations never end.

If I weren’t holding hundreds of dollars’ worth of textbooks, I’d rub my temples to stave off the burgeoning headache.

“He’s asking the same question you are,” I groan out. “You both keep asking the same questions.”

“I’m sure that’s not all it is,”

“Trust me, it is.”

“Mmm,” she mutters.

I want to shout: I DON’T WANT YOUR BOYFRIEND WHO GIVES ME THE CREEPS. I DON’T WANT YOUR EXES. I DON’T WANT YOUR MONEY. I DON’T WANT ANYTHING. I JUST WANT TO BE LEFT ALONE.

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