Shattered Dynasty

Not my fucking problem.

But it is my solution to find.

Matteo came to me with the information that Paul planned on taking his family’s business public.

With the help of a few friends, his product will be dragged through the mud.

A thought that makes me smile.

“You look way too happy.”

“Just thinking of all the money I am about to make.”

“There is more to life than money, Trent.”

“Says the banker.”

He shrugs.

I laugh.

Family, money, and revenge.

That is all I care about.

Nothing more.

16

Payton

* * *

I’m back in the same classroom where all of this started.

Heather isn’t here yet, but as soon as my butt makes contact with my usual chair, I hear her speak from behind me. “You’re alive after a weekend with Mr. McHottie.”

“Barely,” I admit on a sigh, turning over my shoulder to face her. “And don’t rule out my murdering him, either. I’m keeping all the options on the table right now.”

“So, you really were with him! What happened?” Her nose is scrunched as she moves to take the seat next to me.

“Basically, in a nutshell, he’s blackmailing me.”

She lifts her hand, offering me the half-drunk coffee in it. “White chocolate drizzled mocha latte. You need this more than I do. Now tell me what you mean. You’re joking, right? He’s not really blackmailing you, right?”

“No, not really. More like extortion.”

Her mouth hangs open.

“Close your mouth, or you’ll catch a fly,” I say, laughing. “The truth is, he’s actually bartering with me.”

I think.

I’m not absolutely sure why he wants me under his roof, but I’m convinced it’s a power play. Some way to drive me so insane, so I willingly want to give up on the twenty-two mil.

I’ve thought about it since I moved in. It’s a shit ton of money, but his building itself is worth way more. He doesn’t need it. His family doesn’t need it. He wants me under his thumb, miserable, the only relic of his father wilted because of Trent’s power.

I won’t give him the satisfaction.

“It’s your money.” Heather sounds appalled on my behalf. It gives me a small measure of comfort. At least one person is on my side. “How is he even able to do this? We need to call a lawyer. This isn’t legal.”

“Well, technically, it’s not my money until my twenty-second birthday.”

“Not the point. He can’t do this to you. I’m sure—”

“It’s fine. I don’t want to go to court. I just want to live through this and move on. Plus, I get to live in his bougie-ass house while finishing school. He thinks he’s going to break me, but the way I see it, I’m winning.”

“You got this. It’s not too far away. What is it, like, eight more months?”

“Give or take.” Bitterness is laced in my voice.

Dealing with Trent is hell, but I can’t tell her that. It would lead to her worrying, and I’m worried enough for the both of us.

She nudges my shoulder, patting my hand. “So, you just have to hold out a bit longer.”

“It feels like an eternity. I keep telling myself it will all be worth it.”

“Hell yeah, it will be.”

“I just don’t know how I can do this.” I shake my head, lost in the absurdity of his stipulations. “Living with him, the maid gig, going to college, and the extra work he’s making me do. Add volunteering to the mix, and I’m fucked.”

Heather’s gaze becomes intense, and her mouth dips into a frown.

“Hold up. Did you say maid gig?”

“That’s the only part you got?”

“Pretty much.” Her hand squeezes mine so tight it turns white. “Oh, and what the hell do you mean you are living with him now?”

“Shh! Keep it down,” I whisper-shout, paranoid someone’s listening in. The last thing I need is rumors around our small campus. “I mean exactly what I said. Apparently, for him to pay for my school, I must live with him. Oh, and be his maid.”

“Um.” She nibbles on her lip. “That’s really kind of creepy.”

“You think?” I roll my eyes. “Brad has nothing on this dude.”

“Do you think he’s doing this to get in your pants?”

Her expression has changed from shock to something else. I can’t put my finger on what, though. Curiosity?

“If so, he’s doing a shitty job at it. Apparently, he doesn’t find me pretty.”

“So, you weren’t handed a sexy French maid costume?”

“Heather. Come on. Like I said, he’s not attracted to me. Although, I’m pretty sure he’s lying.” I giggle.

“Why do you think that?”

“I dropped my towel in front of him.”

Cue the wide eyes.

Cue the open mouth.

Cue the gasp.

“Oh my God, you hooker.” She leans into my side, and I just know she’s biting back a squeal. “Details.”

“No details. I was just trying to fuck with him the way he fucks with me. Prove he isn’t so robotic and controlled as he thinks he is.”