Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
I mock her with a smile, already knowing the answer before I ask, “Is that why you’re here?”
“No.” She swings her leg. “I’m just wondering why you’re not living together.”
My smile turns cold. “Who says we’re not?”
“I’ve been here every day for most of the week. If Sabella was living here, I would’ve known.”
“Maybe I have more than one house.”
“Obviously.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m not stupid.” Scrutinizing me, she continues in a smug tone. “But this is your main house. I’m just wondering what it says about your relationship if you moved her into one of the secondary houses you keep for your mistresses.”
“Like your father moved your mother into the secondary house in Hout Bay?”
Her jaw locks, giving her features an unattractive, hard angle. Glaring at me, she says, “I’m here about business.”
I widen my stance. “Business?”
“My father had four children—three who got his surname…and me.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel sorry for you?”
She drags in a breath and exhales with flaring nostrils. “I had as big a claim on the business as his other children. A quarter of it should’ve been mine.”
I raise a brow and wait.
“Ryan told me you own the business now. Everything. Did my father sign it over because Sabella was his favorite? Is that why the rest of us got nothing, not a penny or a lousy share?”
“If I remember correctly, he left you a few million.” My voice is flat. “But you want more money.”
She stands. “I want my cut of the business.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
Her lips stretch into an ugly grin. “Not even close.”
“Are you saying you want to work for me?”
She balls her hands into fists. “Not for you. With you.”
The idea is so ridiculous I can’t help but laugh. “With me?”
“Yes,” she bites out. “You’ll find I’m my father’s daughter, Mr. Russo. I inherited much of his skills and aptitude for business.”
My answer is wry. “No thanks.”
“I started my own import and export company.” The expression in her gray eyes is taunting. “Like Sabella suggested.”
I heard enough. I don’t have time to waste on this shit.
She grabs my arm when I turn to leave. “You made a deal with Powell. I was working on closing that deal. It was only a matter of time.”
Taking her hand, I remove it from my arm. “Powell will never do business with you. He might have been one of your father’s best friends, but he condemns Edwards’s behavior when it comes to his so-called second family.”
Her body goes rigid. “That deal was mine. I would’ve had him in my pocket if you hadn’t interfered.”
I chuckle. “I don’t think so.”
“I want exclusivity on those sea routes. You owe it to me.” She stands taller. “If you don’t want to let me in on the deal, give me my share of the business you stole.”
I get into her personal space. “Listen carefully, little girl, because I’m not going to repeat myself. I owe you nothing. Now get the fuck out of my house.”
Disbelief flashes across her pale face. It takes her a second to school her features. “It’s a pity you’re so quick to dismiss me. I’m sure your competitors will be very interested in collaborating with me.”
“I don’t have competitors, Ms. Remington. I only have enemies.”
“Well, then you don’t want to make one of me.”
I wrap my fingers around her bicep, squeezing hard enough to make her flinch. “You are indeed your father’s daughter.” I shove her toward the door. “You’re a snake just like he was.”
She stumbles and rights herself. Grabbing her handbag from the sofa, she says through thin lips, “You’re going to regret this.” On her way to the door, she throws from over her shoulder, “I will have the last laugh, Mr. Russo. You can count on that. Oh. And do tell my sister I say hi.”
She leaves with her nose turned up, her heels clacking over the floor. I follow in her footsteps, just in time to see her yank a coat from the stand in the entrance when I exit the lounge. She nearly pulls the front door off its hinges before barging onto the porch and slamming the door hard enough to rattle the frame.
The guard who watched her stands at attention in the hallway. I wave him over as I walk to a window from where I have a view of her. She takes her phone from her bag and makes a call.
“Daisy Remington. Find out where she’s staying,” I instruct the guard who swiftly leaves to make the inquiry.
Daisy fishes a packet of cigarettes from her handbag, lights one, and paces the porch while she smokes.
What is she up to? I didn’t take her for a gold digger. Clearly, I underestimated her ambition.
The guard returns.
“What did you find out?” I ask.
He gives me the name of a prestigious hotel in Bastia. “She’s renting rooms with her mother. Their checkout date is indefinite. She paid for a couple of months in advance.”