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She laughs. “You must have really pissed her off.”
I look skyward. “Spit it out, Rebecca.”
“I heard you’re swimming in money, sonny dearest. Doing the fucking backstroke in it.”
I let out a laugh. Hate her though I might, she’s amusing.
“What gives, Rowan? You’ve been sitting on the Lockwood fortune all this time and you’ve been holding out on me? You’re a Lockwoodbecauseof me!”
I don’t even bother to deny it. Obviously, Devlin told her everything. “Yeah, you told me the story about how you trapped my father. Holes in the condom—reallyinnovative.”
She glowers. “You ungrateful bastard. Half of that money belongs to me. Hell, more than half. Devlin told me an interesting story about how you’ve hidden from the world.”
Son of a bitch. I knew this day would come eventually.
Rebecca points a blood-red nail—venomous claw, rather—at my chest. “You give me what’s mine, or the world finds out you’re the mystery Lockwood heir. I know what keeping your privacy means to you.”
I watch her with mild amusement and immense irritation. So, this is it—the day I decide if I want to keep lying to the world or finally come out of the billionaire closet.
