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He’s coming back for me after college.
And then there was Lola.“Aryan is such a gentleman, Morgan. I only have to express half a desire and it’s mine.”
All those girls bragging about their fancy men in the high school cafeteria were dumped within weeks, months at most. Orgone, in Lola’s case.
Money means nothing to wealthy, spoiled brats like Camden and his friends, so they dangle it, and women not accustomed to it mistake it for affection.
I’ve never been tempted. Not that anyone has approachedme. Before I started at Silks, I was a homebody, making a quick buck taking small assignments like hacking into teachers’ computers to change the test results, or checking a scumbag boyfriend’s chat to confirm cheating suspicions—which were usually correct. Nothing terrible, but I stopped after my father got arrested. It’s illegal, and the last thing Willow needed was for me to get in trouble. She would have ended up alone with Mom or in foster care. Then, I worked most nights and was just too tired to go out much. On the rare occasions when I did, it was with Lola and Erica, both of whom garner more male attention than me.
Not being coveted has allowed me to observe this dance, and I know the outcome. He’ll do everything he promises, for however long he wants me to warm his bed. Then he’ll kick me to the curb. That’s the way of the world.
I can tell he doesn't like what I'm saying by the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, but Camden smoothly offers up a solution. "I'll pay for the tuition for your five years ahead, then."
I suck in a breath.Holy shit.He can't mean that, can he? Rothford must cost north of one hundred thousand or so per year. What man in his right mind would offer that much money?
Someone rich beyond belief, that's who.
Or, just maybe, someone who doesn't expect to be tired of me that soon?
No. I can’t be like Lola—like every other dumb girl from the west side—and let his wealth impress me. Is he dangling a half a million bucks without a thought? Yes, and I should never forget it. No amount of cash means much to him.
"So, ballparking it, we're looking at a half million dollar investment on my part.” He tilts his head. “What are you willing to offer for that?"
I’ve never even discussed such an amount of money before. I expected that if I ever would, it would be to buy a place, in a decade or two.
"Camden, I might have said you were a psycho once or twice, but that's literally insane."
"You say that like I'm supposed to care."
"Don’t you have to check with someone before offering all that? Your father, your financial advisor. Anyone.”
“You really don’t understand who you’re talking to, do you?”
I shrug. Why would I know anything about his finances, beyond the fact that he’s mega-rich?
“Sure, I’d have to check in with my father to authorize major financial decisions,” he allows.
That’s reassuring.
“This isn’t a major financial decision, Morgan. Not to me.”
My mouth falls open.
“Last week,” he continues, casually running his fingertip along my arm, “I invested seven million. Daddidhave to sign that off. He doesn’t concern himself with petty cash, though.”
Petty cash. Five hundred thousand dollars is petty cash, to him.
Remember that.
“Fine. You’re rich-rich.” I pretend it doesn’t bother me, that it doesn’tscareme.
It does. Men with that much power can get away with literal murder. No wonder he is the way he is.
I should run far and fast.
Wait, never mind. I tried that. It didn’t keep.
I get back to the main subject. “What do you want, then?"
