Page 172 of Wicked Refusal


Font Size:

“Now… whatever shall I do with you?”

I fight the urge to recoil. In an ideal world, I’d grab Brad’s greasy fingers and snap them clean in half. No matter how badly I want to do that, though, getting Kallie out was just part one of the plan. If I want part two to work…

Then I’m just gonna have to grin and bear it.

“I remember the day I saw you on that beach.” His fingers trail lazily down my chest. “Sluttiest little whore I’d ever seen.”

“Oh?” I want to punch him, but I force myself to act curious. “How did you figure?”

“Are you kidding? You had that skimpy string bikini on. Barely covered a thing.” As if to make his point, he trails the edge of my cleavage. The hunger in his touch makes my stomach churn. “I knew, then and there, you’d be the easiest lay of my life.”

Fuck you. I thought you loved me.The words are on my lips, but I don’t speak them. I know better than to wear my heart on my sleeve now—he’s the one who taught me what happens if I do.

Besides, that pain belongs to another version of me. A younger, more innocent Mia, one who still answered to the nickname “Euphie.” Who still believed in love at first sight, thunderclap and all.

But this Mia doesn’t give a shit whether Bradley Baldwin loves her or not.

“Who’d have thought that little slut would have the guts to go through my laptop?” Brad shakes his head, as if the idea amuses him. “But then again, you always did surprise me.”

“Doubt I found even half of it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I keep my tone casual. “Prizrak… they’re not your only benefactor, are they? You’ve got more.”

Brad’s chest literally puffs up at that. “A good businessman knows to keep his friends close.”

“And his enemies closer?”

“You could say that.” He leans in as he speaks. His alcohol breath fills my nostrils, but I resist the urge to throw up. “I offered Yulian a piece, you know. But he wouldn’t take it.”

The mention of Yulian’s name makes my heart jump. I pray he hasn’t noticed. “A piece of what?”

“My empire.” He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. “The Baldwin Complex? It’s just the beginning. I’m going to expand it to Montauk.”

My blood freezes. “You… what?”

“Luxury summer residences. Of course, it’s a high-scale project, so the current residents will have to go.” He says it with such pride, it makes me want to punch all his teeth in. “You understand. The upper class doesn’t like flies in their soup.”

Nor poor people in their gentrified neighborhoods.I clench my fists quietly, out of sight. I can barely hide my disgust.

“Don’t worry,” he adds. “Your parents will have a place. If you behave, that is.”

“So you’re the one who took their home.” I try to keep the accusatory tone down, but I fear I’m doing a piss-poor job of it.

“You were misbehaving.” Brad sinks his nose into the crook of my neck, takes one long drag of my perfume. It makes goosebumps explode all over my body—decidedlynotthe good kind. “Had to show you who’s boss.”

“So you own the bank, too?”Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up.“That’s… how you did it?”

“Of course.” His lips graze my pulse point. “I own everything. Even if it isn’t always in my name.”

“To avoid problems.”

“Mhmm. The SEC isn’t too fond of collusion. Or shell companies.” He ghosts a kiss over the shell of my ear. “Or offshore accounts.”

“And when that’s not enough?” I try to move away, but he grabs me around the waist, keeps me right where he wants me. “What… what do you do then?”

“Do you even have to ask?” He shakes his head. “I have Prizrak.”