Ah. A tiny crack in her armor.
“I’m certain of it,” I say. “He has the most to gain from this publicity stunt.”
“You’re not making any sense,” she says. “My father would never do such a thing.”
“He would if he was looking for extra leverage.”
“Leverage on what?”
“Your father and I have a deal.”
“A deal?”
“Yes.” I nod. “An ironclad deal, which is why I don’t know why he felt the need to force my hand.”
“What kind of deal are you talking about?”
“Like I said, you should’ve talked to your father before coming to me.”
“Well, I’m here now and I’m asking you. Instead of answering my question, you’re being elusive, which is characteristic of a manipulative liar.”
“I’m not the one using undermining tactics, sweetheart. Your father masters the art of deception.”
A thunderous storm rages in her eyes.
She leaps towards me like a bull in a ring charging at full speed towards the matador’s red cape.
I’m quick.
I reach out to snatch her wrist before her palm hits my cheek and force her hand to rest against my chest.
She flinches at the contact.
So do I.
For a brief moment we both seem startled by the proximity.
It’s a good thing I’m too fucking wound up right now to enjoy the warmth of her body against mine.
She breathes in and out, seemingly preparing for a second attack.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I say, my steady voice betraying the frantic palpitation of my heart.
“Stop it with your lies,” she says. She tries but fails to break from my grip.
Even when she’s immobilized, she’s willing to fight with all her might.
“The ink is already dried on the contract,” I say. “As of two days ago, my company owns the Villiers Grand Hotel.”
She blinks.
And blinks again.
More frantic blinking.
“My father sold the hotel?” The revelation takes the wind out of her.
I nod. “Yes, he did.”
