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I narrow my eyes at him.
Do I want to go into this starting a fight again?
Or do I want to approach this in a smarter way and beat them at their own game?
I don’t want to risk the chance of Nathan sending that damn photo to anyone.
Grunting, I slam my knife into the fucker’s hand. “Keep it fucking safe. If you so much as move from this spot, I will fucking haunt you into your death.”
He just throws me a glare as I walk to the door and push past the other guy, knocking him off balance. I enter the building and march across the hallway, my heels click-clacking on the marble floor, determined to give Nathan an earful.
I head straight for the chapter room and shove open the doors.
He’s standing there with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a glass in the other. He looks up at me with a devilish lopsided grin. “Lana … I’m surprised it took you so long.”
“Delete those fucking pictures,” I growl at him. “Every single one of them.”
He casually pours the drink, taking his time. “No, I don’t think I will.”
“Why?” I yell. “We had a deal.”
Clutching the glass tight, he takes a sip. “And now the deal has changed.”
“You can’t just change deals one-sided.” I get right up in his face, but he’s not swayed even a little bit by my rage. “You already took everything I had to give. When is it going to be enough?”
His hand suddenly rises to meet my face, and I freeze when he grabs a strand of my hair, gently tucking it behind my ear. His hand grazes past my cheek, and electricity crackles between us. “I will never have enough of you now.”
My teeth grind together, and I slap him.
Hard.
“How dare you?”
When I try to slap him again, he grabs my wrist midair. “You can slap me all you want. It won’t change what’s going to happen.”
“Oh, do fucking enlighten me,” I grit.
“You’ll be a good girl and give me the money I told you to give me, and I won’t release those pictures.”
“Fuck you,” I say. “Why are you so desperate, huh? Don’t you fucking have enough? Your parents are the wealthiest—”
“My parents are in jail,” he roars, tears suddenly staining his eyes.
My eyes widen, and he releases my wrist.
“And whether you are willing to give it to me or not, Ineedthat money. And I’m going to get it.”
“Why?” I ask. “Give me one good reason.”
He clutches the glass so tightly I’m almost starting to wonder if it will crack beneath his fingers.
“You can’t … because you don’t want to,” I scoff. “Penelope was right. You’re just a fucking bully.”
“Penelope?” he grits. “You think she’s telling you the complete truth?”
I shove my finger into his chest. “You bullied her sister. Damn right I know she’s telling the truth.”
He grips my finger. “You have no fucking clue …”
