The More I Hate Read Online Zoe Blake, Alta Hensley

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, Virgin Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
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“Tea, then.”

“All out.” I lied again.

“Water with lemon?” Her hands went to her hips, and she tried to purse her lips in disapproval.

“They’re doing maintenance on the pipes, and the water has been shut off.”

She stuck her nose in the air. “I’ll wait in the parlor while you get whatever you have available. Thank you.” She waved her hand like she was dismissing me in my own home.

The fucking nerve of this woman.

I gritted my teeth and made a mental note to inform Amelia she would not be seeing her mother often after the wedding. Then again, considering the bruises on my bride that this bitch must have left, I doubted Amelia would object.

With a deep breath, I got my anger under control. It was probably a good thing she was here. Mrs. Astrid and I needed to have a little chat in private.

She needed to know what would and wouldn’t be tolerated and exactly what was going to happen if she fucking crossed me. Putting her hands on what was mine was crossing the fucking line.

She sauntered deeper into my apartment while continuing to wave me off. This bitch had lost her damn mind if she thought I would even think about leaving her unattended in my home. I didn’t know if I was more worried about her snooping, stealing, or planting a camera.

None of those things were going to happen.

“If you insist.” I led her to the sitting area, its rich leather furniture positioned to take full advantage of the stunning view.

I loved this room. It was perfect for receiving guests. The view was impressive, and the furniture looked inviting but was uncomfortable enough that it didn’t encourage people to stay. The perfect balance between a show of power and telling people to get the fuck out.

“Aren’t you going to make that refreshment, dear?” She perched on one of the armchairs.

“Unfortunately, I just remembered I ran out of everything. Had you called before showing up, I would have had time to prepare for your visit. So, why don’t you tell me why you are here? I’m sure you must be in a hurry, other doorsteps to darken.”

“Can’t a woman just show up to her soon to be son-in-law’s home?”

I remained standing. “No, actually, it’s rude. You, like anyone else, can make an appointment with my assistant.”

“We are going to be family,” she huffed.

“That isn’t what this is and pretending otherwise is a waste of both of our time. I’m a busy man with several far more important matters to attend to, so why don’t you just tell me why you are here?”

I probably should have been more polite, but I didn’t want to accidentally give her the impression she was welcome here, or anywhere I was, without calling ahead.

“Obviously, I’m here to discuss the wedding. The last one was a complete disaster, thanks to you.” She looked down her nose at me, a brave move for a woman with so much to lose. “I paid for the last one. You will be covering all the expenses of this one.”

“All the expenses? Like what?”

“You will pay for the dresses, flowers, and jewelry for the entire bridal party, of course. The venue, caterer, planner, band, and really anything else that we deem appropriate. I also expect to be reimbursed for the first wedding.”

“Correct me if I am wrong, but you didn’t pay for anything.”

I sat across from her and leaned back on the sofa. “You don’t have any claim to your family’s money, not after you married into a wealthier one, and you have never made any real money. Your husband paid for everything.”

“When it comes to the children, I make all the decisions on my husband’s behalf. It would just be far simpler to give me your black card and I will take care of everything. I’m thinking if I hurry, I can get someone bumped at The Plaza in, say, two years.”

“We will have this wedding by the end of the quarter,” I said. “And by ‘we,’ you mean Amelia.” I sat forward on my sofa, resting my elbows on my knees.

“Excuse me?”

“You said ‘what we deem appropriate’. By we you mean Amelia. It’s her wedding, after all. Not yours.”

“I’m her mother. I know what she needs.”

I sincerely doubted that.

“Right, and how much do you think Amelia’s needs are going to cost?”

“At least forty million.” She didn’t even blink, asking for that outrageous sum. “My daughter is worth the best, and that is what she shall have. That, of course, does not cover the reimbursement for the last event. That we can settle by a transfer of bonds or even stocks from your portfolio to mine. Say around thirty million.”

“That’s funny. You don’t treat your daughter like she is worth much at all,” I countered. “You sold her to me for a secret. Yet you paid thirty million for a party.”



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