Page 35 of Shattered Dynasty

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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.


Tags: Ava Harrison Billionaire Romance