She glances at me in confusion, and I mentally take a deep breath, having no patience for stupid people.
“Mr. DeSantis,” I clarify. “What’s his first name? I like to be prepared, and since I was planning to meet with Mr. Hyatt, I just want to make sure I know who I’m meeting with.”
“Oh, yes, of course. His name is Evan, and he’s Mr. Hyatt’s business partner.”
“Huh. Any relation to Theodore DeSantis?”
She suspiciously quirks a brow, and I take back calling her stupid.
“We go way back.” I grin.
“He’s his cousin,” she says, standing and walking me down the hall while I put the pieces together, almost positive I know how this puzzle is going to look.
She knocks on the door and then opens it. “Mr. DeSantis, your one o’clock is here. Oh, sorry,” she says, backtracking. “I wasn’t aware you were still having lunch. Should we?—”
Before she can finish her sentence, I step past her, locking eyes with Theodore DeSantis, who’s sitting across from who I assume is his cousin.
The left side of his face is still swollen from when I hit him, and I chuckle darkly as I wonder if I’ll have the opportunity to make the right side of his face match.
“I’ll take it from here,” I tell her, pushing her out and closing the door behind me.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Theo hisses, standing.
“I’d ask you the same thing, but I have a feeling I already know. Let me guess. You found out Brielle was trying to purchase thePilates studio, and since you’re pissed off that she dumped your ass for me, you had your cousin refuse to sell it to her.”
“They have the right to refuse?—”
I cut across the room and connect my fist with his face, sending him flying onto the desk. Papers fly, and a laptop hits the floor. I punch him again and again, knocking him onto the ground.
I obviously underestimated this fool, but that won’t be happening again.
“What the hell?!” his cousin shrieks like a little bitch.
“You want to be next?” I threaten, leaving Theo laid out on the floor.
Evan raises his hands and shakes his head, taking a step back, just as his secretary opens the door, concern etched in her features.
“Leave,” I tell her. “You don’t want to be a part of this.”
She nods and scurries out, closing the door behind her.
“Let me tell you how this is going to go,” I say to them. “You are going to sell Brielle Antonova that Pilates studio for not a cent over market value, and if either of you does anything to prolong or fuck up the deal, I’m going to come after you both.”
I say to Evan, “In case you don’t know who I am, my name is Kane Morgan, and I own Morgan Enterprises. If you so much as think about fucking with my future wife, I will dismantle your companies, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left. Am I understood?”
Evan swallows thickly and nods.
“I need to hear the fucking words.”
“Yes,” Evan chokes out, “I understand.”
“Good.” I nod and grin. “Send the paperwork over to me by the end of the day so I can have my legal team look over it before I give it to Brielle to sign.” I walk over to the door and open it. “Nice doing business with you, Evan.”
I glance down at Theodore, who’s still on the floor, holding his face. “And, Theo, this is strike two. Three strikes, and you’re out.”
18
Brielle
