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“What are we going to do now?” Peyton starts pacing back and forth, giving us our first good look at her face. Yep, no denying it now; that’s definitely her.

Kingston’s dad stands and rounds his desk. “Stop fucking moving.” His hand snakes out like a viper, grabbing Peyton’s upper arm. “And remember who the fuck you’re talking to.”

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” She yelps when Preston appears to squeeze. “I swear! I was upset, and I reacted poorly, but it will never happen again.” Peyton averts her eyes to the ground.

“Am I the only one whose mind is fucking blown right now?” Bentley asks.

I shake my head. “Nuh-uh.”

“Sit down!” Preston shoves Peyton into the nearby chair before moving directly in front of her, propping his ass on the desk.

It's a blatant power move because he's now looming over her, trying to disintegrate her with his eyes.

"Now..." Kingston's dad removes his suit jacket and begins undoing his cufflinks. "Calmly, tell me why you insisted on wasting my time with this meeting."

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. “I just need to know what to do. Kingston keeps trying to get a hold of me, and when he finds me, I’m afraid of what he might do. He knows something's up, and he's not going to give up until he gets it out of me. I'm afraid he might hurt me."

I place my palm over my mouth to forcibly stifle my outburst. I want to scream so many obscenities at this bitch right now, it’s not even funny.

Bentley and Kingston both look like they want to jump into the computer and throttle both people on the screen.

"What did you expect?" Preston yells. "You shouldn't be surprised he suspects you. My son is highly intelligent, and you're just a dumb little slut who can't follow simple instructions!"

“Ouch,” Bentley mumbles.

Preston leans down and places his hands on the arms of Peyton’s chair, getting right in her face. “If you would’ve waited like I told you to, instead of sending some half-cocked steroid addict after her, we wouldn’t be in this predicament! If you’ve fucked this up for me, Peyton, I. Will. Kill. You. Better yet, I’ll shoot that meathead right in front of you, then I’ll feed you to the sharks. They’ll make you wish you were dead as they’re violating your body in every delicious way imaginable. Hell, I might even join them.”

I place my palm over my mouth to stifle my cry. Nobody deserves that, not even Peyton.

Peyton whimpers. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't...I just can't stand seeing them together. Kingston hates my guts, and it's all because of her. You saw their sex tape. You saw how he acts with her. He’s in love with her! How am I supposed to get him to marry me now?”

Kingston grabs my hand, looking at me out of the corner of his eye before returning his attention to the screen. He probably knows I'm about to puke, knowing his dad's name was just added to the long list of people who have seen me performing oral while completely naked.

Preston sits back on his desk and belts out a sinister laugh. “You stupid fucking girl. Of course, he’s in love with her! I knew that was going to happen the minute Charles decided to claim her.”

“Then why didn’t you talk him out of it?” Peyton cries. “She’s ruining everything! I’m not going to lose twenty billion dollars because of some whore from the fucking projects!”

>

I wince when Preston winds his hand back and slaps Peyton so hard, her face whips to the side. “Ten billion.”

“Dayum,” Bentley whispers. “Dude’s savage.”

Peyton rubs her cheek and sniffles. “What?”

Preston takes his time rolling his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. “You said you’re not going to lose twenty billion. I corrected you. You only have ten billion on the line. The other ten is mine.”

This time I can’t hold back my gasp.

Kingston squeezes my hand and mutters, “Fucking bastard.”

“Quiet, dawg,” Bentley says. “I can’t hear.”

“R-right,” Peyton stutters. “That’s what I meant. Ten billion.”

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” Preston stands but makes no move to walk away. “You’re going to pull out of the race. You’re going to tell your lap dog to pull out of the race. If either one of you makes an attempt to touch Jasmine, I will take action. I don’t make empty threats, Peyton. If you don’t believe me, ask your mother; she’s been around long enough to know the consequences of crossing me.”

“B-but, how am I supposed to get Kingston back? We have to be married before my next birthday and produce an heir before I’m twenty-one. If that doesn’t happen, we get nothing.”

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