And the academy award goes to...
“You mean the billionaire who never asked you to sign a prenup?”I crossed my arms, aware I now had nothing to lose.
My friend was dead.
I hated Sandy, and she could go fuck herself as far as I was concerned.
“Fuck you, Sebastian.”
“No.You won’t.”I’d ground out, wishing I was the sort of man who could punch a woman, just once.Just for one fucking second.
But I wasn’t.
A few days later, the five of us stood around Jack’s grave as he was lowered into the ground, grinding our teeth while Sandy wailed dramatically.
She wore a black pantsuit and stood clutching a black rose.Then tossed it onto his coffin.
When her eyes lifted, they locked with mine and I saw the glint within them as her lips curled up, knowing she’d gotten away with murder.
From that moment on, we referred to her as the Obsidian Viper.
Unable to prove that Sandy killed Jack, we made a pact to never forget our friend nor be blind to women sinking their claws into our fortunes.
His death left a mark on all of us.
All five of us come from wealthy families and are now billionaires in our own rights.None of us have married, and I’m almost certain we all won’t after what we witnessed.
Where she is now, I don’t know, but a part of me would love to see her suffer.Karma has a crazy way of taking its own time with revenge.
My phone buzzes and I reach into my Armani pocket to pull it out, seeing the office number.
“Hello,” I answer roughly.
“Mr.Remington, I have bad news,” my temporary PA, Jeremy, says nervously.
He’s been working for me for three months and thank fuck he finishes up today.If the guy could kiss my asshole, I’m pretty sure he would.It drives me crazy.
Whether he swings that way, I haven’t asked.
I know he’s trying to be efficient, but he’s not.I need someone who can get the job done and who has a few more brain cells than the average person.
Apparently HR has found someone.
We will see.
“What is it?”
If this is about the fucking photocopier again...
“Your jet is broken,” Jeremy tells me.
I freeze.Then my brows shoot up, unable to process what he’s saying.
“What do you mean, it’s broken?”My voice is a little pitchier than I’m comfortable with.
“Something about the fuel pump.I pushed to get a time frame, but it sounds like the parts won’t be in England for forty-eight hours.”
Fuck.
