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Fuck.
As much as I hate her, and I do, she’s irresistible when she’s angry. I love the challenge her strength brings. She’s a raging inferno, and I’m tempted to touch the flame.
A small part of me wants to forget this feud and kiss her, which is the craziest fucking thought I’ve had since I met her. I put it in park and tell myself to cut this shit out.
There is no time for that now. No time for it ever.
Not with her.
Not after what I’m about to say.
“I own you,” I tell her as if I’m discussing a recent acquisition in the stock market. My eyes lower to my nails. I bring my hand to my face, pretending to examine it. I’m well aware she is fuming across the table, and it takes everything in me not to smile.
Her palms slam down. “The hell you do—”
I like her fire. It’s refreshing. It’s also useless.
There’s no way she’s winning an argument against me.
I blow on my nails and polish them against my dress shirt, sparing her a cursory glance. “Actually, until you turn twenty-two, I own you.”
“You have to pay for my—”
“Stop right there . . .” I lift a finger, treating her as I would an untrained dog. “I only have to pay for necessities, and I don’t think a house to yourself and a fancy car on top of that expensive private university is a necessity.”
“It’s not your place.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong, princess.” My lips part and spread. “It is. My father, your benefactor, for whatever reason, decided to leave you this money for services rendered.”
My smile drops, replaced with a look of disgust.
She pauses, taking her time to digest my words. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“What do you think it means?” I lift my right brow.
Payton’s mouth drops open. “It wasn’t like that. He was like a father to me—”
“Okay. If you say so,” I say in a tone that obviously implies otherwise. “Doesn’t matter what he was. What matters is he put you in this position. You think I want to deal with you, princess? Spoiler alert—I don’t. I don’t want to see or speak to you. But my father was a dick. He didn’t care what I wanted. If he cared at all about me, or you for that matter, he would have put your sister in charge of your finances, now, wouldn’t he?”
Wide eyes.
They consume her face, staring back at me in silence, beginning to realize just how fucked she is.
Welcome to reality, baby. Check your expectations at the door.
“My father didn’t care about anyone,” I continue. “Never did. The man you thought he was . . . that was all a lie. You probably think I’m wrong, that I’m being too hard on him. I’m not. He was a grade-A asshole. I should know. I’m his son . . . and the apple didn’t fall far from that tree.”
Everything I learned about hatred, I learned straight from the source.
Her teeth bite over her lower lip, and she starts to nibble as if she’s trying to stop herself from saying something that she won’t be able to take back.
Knowing that I have control over her keeps her in check.
I like it.
But as much as I want to celebrate this win, I can’t think about that now. I need to tell her why she’s here first, and when I’m alone, I can savor the moment.
“What do you want from me?”
