Shattered Dynasty by Ava Harrison

13

Trent


When the minutehand of the clock hits the time I allotted and Payton doesn’t show, my anger bubbles.

Clearly, her situation hasn’t sunk in.

I’ll just have to break your will, Miss Hart. Then you will confess all your sins and the part you played in Ivy’s kidnapping.

The irritation fades in an instant. I’m looking forward to our game of cat and mouse. I admire her audacity. The fire that lights in her eyes drives me wild. Fucking sue me. I’m an asshole.

I stand, walking to the side of my office with a built-in bookcase. My finger brushes against the spine of a book. War and Peace.

I consider my options of punishment to dole out for this infraction. They say the punishment should fit the crime. She stole my time; I’ll steal her money. With the book in hand, I sit back down. This time I set a timer on my phone, noting my net worth increases about two grand a minute.

By the time another ten minutes pass and she’s out twenty large, I decide to inform her of her predicament.

She’s lucky I’m even giving her this solution to her problems.

With the friends I have, I can easily remove all traces of the money, especially now that I have the account number. Before she realizes what I’ve done, she would be broke.

This—me as her controller—is mercy. Jaxson Price would destroy her identity. Cyrus Reed would ruin her financially, reputationally, and mentally. My other friends and clients? They’d just not bother with the effort and kill her outright.

If she had to pick a ruthless bastard to piss off, she’s lucky it’s me. She’s still breathing. I won’t go as far as ending her life. Not my style.

See, Dad. Take notes: Some of us have scruples.

That doesn’t mean I’m opposed to introducing a heavy dose of fear into her life.

I stand from my chair, pushing it back. The wood scrapes against the floor.

Another five minutes have passed, and she’s out a total of thirty grand at this point. A drop in the water when you consider the twenty-two-million-dollar pot. But if this continues, she’ll be bankrupt before she turns twenty-fucking-two.

I am dead set on ruining her day and possibly her life. First, she needs to know the money she has happily spent all these years is blood money.

Would she even care?

I exit my office, walking down the hallway in large strides.

Another minute.

Another two grand out the door.

I continue until I’m in front of her room. I lift my hand to knock but decide against it.

One, this is my house. I don’t need to knock to enter my room.

Two, she was supposed to be in my office seventeen minutes ago.

Three, I don’t owe her a damn thing.

I fling the door open.

As soon as I do, a scream rings out through the air. My eyes immediately pivot to the entry points, taking inventory of potential threats.

Windows, empty.

Vents, intact.

The amusement is hard to smother, so I don’t bother, letting my lips tip up when I realize I’m the threat.

Payton is standing in the middle of the room.

Right in front of me.

Mouth open.

Eyes wide.

Then I look down and see why she is screaming.

Her brown locks are pitch-black now. The strands cling to her skin.

Her hair is wet.

My gaze travels farther down her body over her exposed skin. She’s standing in front of me in a towel.

It does little to hide her. Although, it’s wrapped tightly, glued to her body. Her cleavage spills out of the edge. Little droplets of water caress the swells.

She showered, and I barged in.

For the third time, I note that she’s gorgeous.

Three times too many.

“Do you mind?” she hisses at me. “I’m trying to get dressed!”

I lean against the doorframe, kicking one foot in front of the other. “Seeing as you can’t seem to bring yourself to show up to our appointment, I can’t seem to bring myself to give a fuck about what you’re wearing.” My eyes lower, one brow lifted. “Or, in this case, not wearing.”

“Get out!”

“No.”

“I can’t get dressed if you’re in the room.” She’s clearly angry, and that just makes me want to fuck with her more.

“You don’t need to be dressed for what I’m going to tell you.”

I let my words hang in the air until I see her scowl deepen, shoulders visibly shaking with rage. She takes a step toward me, remembers her situation, and eases back, tightening the towel around her chest.

“But first . . .” I trail off, lifting my phone and making a show of typing something in it. “You were seventeen minutes late. At two grand a minute, that’s thirty-four thousand dollars I’ll have to garnish from your inheritance.” I tsk, pretending to be saddened by the idea. “It’s only fair. But you should know, if you keep this up, there will be no money left to inherit.”

“What the fuck!”

She starts for me, reaching for my phone. It brings her body against mine. Her bare thigh slips between my legs as she lunges up for the phone, which I hold above my head. I’m almost a foot taller. She’ll never win.

But damn, does she try.

And damn, do I enjoy it.

“You can’t do this!” she cries out.

“Who’s going to stop me?” I raise a brow, staring down my nose at her. “You?” I laugh. Loud and in her face.

“Two thousand dollars a minute! That’s insane.” She’s seething.

Her eyes shutter before she takes several calming breaths, pushing her chest against mine with each inhale. She moves to step back before realizing her towel has slipped. It puts her in a precarious situation where she’s using my body to shield hers from me.

Glare heavy on my face, she reaches between us to adjust her towel. The back of her hand presses against my chest. There’s no helping it. There’s no helping the fact that I’m hard as a fucking rock, either.

This is not what I had planned when I moved her in here.

Not even close.

If anything, it’s an inconvenience I’ll have to overcome. Because I have no intention of letting her leave. Not until I get my revenge.

“Are you done with your tantrum?” I ask after she finally steps back. “Because there are more stipulations to cover, and you’re eating up quite a bit of my time.” I pause. “And your money.” The way I say “your” implies I think it’s anything but.

Payton shakes her head, her eyes narrowing. “No. That’s unfair. You said all I had to do was live with—”

“That was for college tuition,” I cut her off.

“What do you mean?” Her voice breaks as she speaks.

“There are other incidentals. There are other things you’ll need. Do you truly think you’re going to live in my house, and I’m going to pay for everything? News flash, princess, I’m not a good person.” I level her with my stare. “You’re going to have to work for it.”

Her mouth drops open, and her eyes are as wide as saucers.

She looks confused and defeated at the same time.

It’s a cute look on her.

Does it make me sick that I’m enjoying this?

Probably, but I don’t care.

With a twist of her jaw, she recovers. Rather quickly, as I expected her to be in shock a little longer, but nope. Instead, she narrows those big blue eyes and scoffs at me.

“I am not a prostitute,” she replies sharply.

I continue to smile, loving the anger, hoping to further piss her off. The way I stalk forward has her on edge. I circle her, watching her stiffen.

“I will not sleep with you to pay for my food,” she adds, her nostrils flared.

“Calm yourself. You look like you’re about to have a brain aneurysm.” I stop behind her, whispering into her ear. “You are the last thing I’d ever want. Unlike my father, you mean nothing to me.”

“Then why am I here?”

I continue walking again until I’m standing in front of her, an easy foot away. “You are here because I deem this to be the place that you deserve to be.”

“So, I’m here so you can make my life a living hell.”

“Ding. Ding. Ding. You finally understand. I could easily give you the inheritance. But I won’t.” I shrug, making light of her situation, knowing it pisses her off more. “It’s not about the money. It’s about you.”

“What did I ever—”

“I don’t have time to listen to you complain, princess,” I interrupt. “There are rules to the house that need explaining.”

She glares at me. Her head tips down at what she is wearing, or in this case, not wearing. “Can I at least put on clothes?”

“No.”

“But you just said—”

“I know what I said, but my time is valuable. I don’t have time for you to get dressed.” I pause. “Well, at two grand a minute, I suppose it doesn’t matter to me how you spend it.” I gesture toward her closet. “Go ahead.”

She doesn’t budge. Her eyes sparkle as if she is playing at something.

“Very well.” She smiles.

A coy smile.

What are you up to, Payton?

“Speak,” she prods when the silence lingers for too long.

And with that, she drops the towel.

Fuck.

Yep. There she is. Standing in front of me . . . naked.

If that’s not bad enough, little droplets of water hug her body.

Lucky bastards.

I allow myself a minute to appreciate the sight.

Might as well enjoy this moment.

I allow my eyes to rake boldly over her body. My gaze drops down from her eyes to her collar, across her breasts, down her navel until I’m almost . . .

“Yes?” Her voice cuts in through my perusal. “What are those rules, Mr. Aldridge?” she asks, her voice low and seductive. This little shit is purposely trying to get a rise out of me.

If she’s not careful, she won’t like the type of rise she’ll get.

I shake my head and realize I have been standing here for lord knows how many seconds, just staring at her.

Well played, princess.

I cough and right myself. Shifting my weight.

“You’ll need extra money for necessities. Since you’ll be staying here, you will need to take a train or a cab.”

“I’m not getting my car back?”

“Negatory.”

“What the hell?” Her hands flail in the air, making her tits bounce.

Dammit. Now I’m gawking at her again.

“I need my car, psycho,” she follows up.

Looking back up at her face, I watch for a minute before I speak. “Maybe we can negotiate that if I decide you exhibit good behavior.”

“Good behavior? I’m not a prisoner, Trent. I haven’t committed any crimes, other than breathing, which you cannot seem to stand for some reason.”

I’m a sick bastard because my dick hardens at the way she spits out my name with so much venom. It throbs against my pants. If she looks down, she’ll see it.

Thankfully, she doesn’t.

“Potato, potahto. You say prisoner; I say maid.” A grin slices across my face. “Which brings me back to what I was saying. Money. You will help clean—”

“You want me to be your maid?”

“Why not? The more, the merrier.”

“You don’t need more staff.”

“That’s not for you to decide.”

She swallows. “I don’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand? One of the ladies who cleans my house is taking some time off. You will replace her.”

She looks down at the floor and back up.

“I mean, if you don’t want to go to school,” I continue, shrugging as if the situation cannot be helped, “I’m sure you can take online courses . . .”

“No. I want to go in person. Fine,” she mutters, looking utterly defeated.

It’s not as satisfying as I thought it’d be.

“Good.” I nod. “With that settled, there are only a few more things.”

“There’s more?”

“Yes.”

She lets out a long-drawn-out sigh. “What else?”

“I need you to prove you deserve this,” I tell her matter-of-factly.

She bites her lip. “You lost me.”

“I need you to prove that you deserve twenty-two million dollars.”

She frowns. “And how exactly will I be doing that when I didn’t know I had twenty-two million dollars?”

“You need to prove yourself to me. For example, you will need to prove you’re smart.”

Her eyes roll. “I’m in college.”

“Yeah. And that means jack shit to me. Anyone can go to college. That doesn’t mean you’re smart. I need you to prove you won’t squander the money. Prove you are deserving. Going to college and taking classes are only one part of an education. You need to be well-versed in life. Every week, I will expect you to read and study historians and philosophers.”

“Um. Hard pass.” She shakes her head. “I’m not doing that. I already have a full load with my business classes.”

“This isn’t up for negotiation. You will read what I tell you to read, and you will submit a paper on what you learned.”

“This is ridiculous. I’m not doing that.”

“You know where the door is.” I shrug. “Your choice, princess.”

There is no decision to be made. She will do exactly what I want. She knows it, and I know it.

I stare down at her, daring her to argue again.

She lets out a large huff. “Fuck, you need to check your cereal. I’m going to spit in every single one of your dishes.”

“I’ll eat out. The papers you will submit will be your homework.”

“Homework? I’m not five.”

The look I give her suggests otherwise.

“Yep,” I say, popping the P. “You know, that thing teachers give to make sure their kids retained information. By completing the assignment, you’re proving to me that you are, in fact, serious about your education.”

I expect her to refuse, but I am shocked when she says, “Okay.”

She never makes things easy. I’ll give her that.

“There’s more . . .”

“Of course, there is,” she mutters under her breath.

“After four weeks of turning in papers, you will then report your findings and knowledge in front of my staff and me. Consider yourself the guest lecturer here. Once a month. For the next eight months.”

“No. I shouldn’t have to do this weird . . . public speaking thing as well.”

“That’s fine. Say goodbye to the money.” I smile.

“You can’t take the money.” She raises her brow in challenge.

“Watch me.” I move to walk out the door.

“Stop.”

I do.

“Fine. I’ll do it,” she adds. There is no mistaking the bite in her voice. This is the last thing she wants to do.

Good.

I hope she’s uncomfortable.

That’s the whole fucking point.

Little does she know, I’m just getting started.

“I wouldn’t agree yet,” I say, turning back to face her. “There’s more.”

“Just spit it out.”

“I will require you to do volunteer work. It’s mandatory.”

“You win.” She throws her hands up in the air again. Clearly defeated and out of objections.

“You will learn, rather quickly, that I always do.”

I turn, leaving her standing there, still naked. I walk into my office and slam the door.

What the fuck was I thinking when I decided having her under my roof would be a good idea?

Keep an eye on her.

Pressure her to work for me.

And, I don’t fucking know, maybe not pressure me into looking at her naked body. Into spiking my desire to throw her on the bed and lick off the water.

Great. Now my dick is trying to break through my pants.

I’m never getting the image of Payton naked out of my mind.