Shattered Dynasty by Ava Harrison
7
Trent
By now,the little princess has probably received my gift. The gift of being totally fucked.
Not fucked—self-reliant in ways she hasn’t needed to be in years, at my family’s expense.
A smile spreads across my face at the thought. I wonder which one she received first . . . Jax tends to hold his cards close when he delves into shady shit, but I trust him enough to get the job done.
Did she find out about school first?
Or maybe her car got towed as soon as she woke.
Maybe she walked out the door, only to realize she no longer has a ride.
I start to laugh as I think about the piece of paper taped to her door.
The eviction notice. The boarded-up house.
The home I bought out from under her.
I wish I could see her as she found the little envelope placed on the mat at her front door. The one that told her that her belongings had been taken to a certain address.
Best part . . . The address is mine. Not that it matters, seeing as I’ve had her car repossessed, but it should be interesting if she tries to get here.
Today is going to be the first good day I’ve had in years. I might not be able to seek my pound of flesh from my dad, but Payton and her sister are the next best thing. After years of my father’s betrayal, I’m seeking my vengeance on the family who put mine on the chopping block.
Dad forever altered my family’s life in order to give these princesses the luxuries they never deserved. Taking it away from them, making them feel even an ounce of the pain and suffering Mom and Ivy did for years, will be my vengeance.
The icing on the cake? It will also be entertaining.
All of Payton’s belongings are currently stored in the basement of this building.
If she’s lucky, I’ll let her rummage through the boxes. If she’s not, I’ll let the incinerator do the work, and she can rummage through the ashes.
I lean back in my chair, waiting for the knock on the door. I have instructed my staff that we might be having a guest today.
There’s no telling when she will come.
But I know she will.
I reach my hand out and grab the tumbler on my desk. The amber liquid slushes across the surface of the crystal.
Will she beg a friend for a ride, or will she take a train?
I canceled all her credit cards.
Who knows if she will even have enough cash to get here?
A train, then a cab from Penn Station.
Yeah, that will set her back, too.
Victory tastes sweet.
I lift the glass to my mouth and take a swig. Then I pivot my chair to look toward the computer.
There’s an email on the screen.
A confirmation.
Her car is now in my possession.
How long have I been staring at my computer? All I know is that my glass is now empty. There is a knock on the front door.
I don’t need to stand to know it’s her. Now I just have to wait for Martha to show her to my office.
“Where is he?” I hear her scream.
Feisty. I wasn’t expecting that.
“If you could please calm down, I’ll show you to Mr. Aldridge—”
My door flies open.
Payton Hart storms into the room like a tornado.
Wild and unpredictable.
Her eyes are wide. I allow myself to watch her. Stare, really.
This is the first time my anger has subsided enough for me to really look at her.
She’s fucking magnificent.
If she were anyone else, I would allow myself the brief distraction from my work to fuck her right here on the desk.
But she’s not someone else. She’s a means to an end.
A final “fuck you” to my dad.
But nothing, not even her pert-as-fuck tits, can distract me from that fact.
What was so perfect about them that he’d sell my sister like an object?
“Payton.” I fill my glass halfway and raise it to her in greeting. “How nice of you to visit me. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Are you kidding me right now?” she fires back. Her back is ramrod straight, and her hands rest on her hips.
A warm heat begins to spread inside me. It’s a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time.
Excitement.
I’m excited to ruin this girl’s privilege, built on my family’s pain. Crushing her every dream is a fantastic aphrodisiac.
“What the hell are you smiling at?” she hisses at me. Her tone only makes me smile wider.
“Just you. Why? Is something wrong?”
Her hand drops, and she begins to cross the space that separates us. Her sneakers slap the hardwood floor with purpose. When she is standing directly in front of my desk, she stops.
“Why did you do it? What did I ever do to you?”
“You are going to have to be more specific.” I settle my features, making my face serious as if I have no clue why she’s pissed.
Her lips pucker. She is ready to burst. This is not just normal pissed. She is ready to blow.
I can’t wait.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Why don’t you take a seat?” I lift my hand and gesture to the empty chair beside her. “It seems like you had a rough day.”
“Seriously?”
I let my lip twist up into a smile again. “Yes. Seriously.”
“You really are an asshole.”
I shrug, casually sipping my drink. “I’ve been called worse. So, what can I do for you, Ms. Harlow?”
“Hart. My name is Hart. And I want my stuff back.”
She stands tall, trying to make herself appear strong. Too bad she doesn’t realize I have only just started with her.
I tsk at her. “You really shouldn’t get so attached to material items. It’s not good for your well-being.”
At my words, her eyes go wide. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
I stand from my desk, rising to my full height, over a foot taller than her, if I had to guess.
“No. I’m not fucking kidding you. Being dependent on items isn’t good for the soul. You should be thanking me.”
“Thanking you? Thanking you! You’re ruining my life.”
Cue the smile.
Cue the smirk.
Cue the devil inside me who wants to swallow her whole.
“Not yet.”
“What?”
“I said, not yet. Your life isn’t ruined yet.” I wink, and the hands at her sides fist.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I can.”
She starts to pace the room. She reminds me of an old cartoon I watched as a child. The one where smoke came out of the characters’ ears because they were so mad.
“You won’t get away with this.”
“I already did.”
With that, she storms out. The door slams behind her, and the sound of the force she exerted echoes through the space.
For the first time in a long time, I feel anything is possible.
This will be fun. I pour another drop of liquor on the floor for Dad, watching it splatter across my expensive wood flooring. “Checkmate, bastard.”