Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
I snatched her phone from her, answering it for her, a twisted, cruel smile playing on my lips. She opened her mouth to protest, but I held my hand up to her. I didn’t want Rodney hearing her. “Where are you, Zy?” Rodney asked as soon as I put the phone up to my ear. His voice was deadly calm—the kind of calm that came before a storm.
“Zy…” I hummed. “I’ve never been called that. I think it fits me,” I teased, my smirk widening when Rodney made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat.
“Adelaide fucking Berkeley,” Rodney snarled.
My smirk widened. “The one and only,” I sang. “How can I help you, Rodney boy?”
He growled. He had always hated that damn name, and I lived to piss off my enemies. “Where the fuck is Zyla?” he snarled.
“She’s currently naked in my bed,” I told him. Zyla’s eyes widened at me, fear flashing in their depths. I knew Rodney was practically steaming, and I was enjoying every second of playing with him. “I always did have a thing for her. Thanks for fucking up and giving me an in.”
“You fucking bitch!” he roared.
Pointers to me for knowing that Rodney was possessive as fuck when it came to Zyla.
I tsked. “That’s not very nice, Rodney boy,” I taunted as I leaned against the counter.
“You tell that traitorous bitch that she has two hours to get back to my house with all six million of my cash, or I will destroy everyone she holds dear.”
I let out a low whistle as I arched my eyebrows at Zyla, a proud smile playing on my lips afterward. The girl had robbed Rodney. Six million in fucking cash was a goddamn lot of money.
I snorted. “Sorry, Rodney boy. I can’t relay that message since she’s actually already on her way somewhere overseas, very far away from you. She left me her phone so that you couldn’t track her. Good luck getting all of that money back,” I taunted. “She’s long fucking gone.”
He released a snarl. “I always fucking hated you, Adelaide,” He sneered. I laughed. “You better hope dear old Tristan knows how to keep a leash on you because the moment I get my fucking hands on you, you are dead. I’m going to fuck you in every position, and I’m going to enjoy listening to you as you beg me to stop before I slit your throat.”
My blood chilled in my veins as the line went dead. I set Zyla’s phone on the counter. “That went well,” I commented dryly.
Zyla’s eyes flickered over my shoulder, and she paled even further. I turned around to see what she was looking at and cursed. Tristan’s eyes were blazing with fury. He pointed at both of us. “Chapel now,” he ordered.
I blew out a harsh breath and followed him inside the chapel. Jesup and Joey were already in the room, both of them sitting at the table. Joey’s eyes were cold and flat. I clenched my jaw, knowing this was about to be a fucking fight. “Sit the hell down,” Joey snarled at me.
I placed my hands on my hips, tilting my chin up at him defiantly, refusing to follow directions. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” I snapped at him.
Despite his injuries, he jumped up from his chair, slamming his hands down onto the table as if he wasn’t even hurt. Zyla, who had taken a seat, jumped and squeaked, but I just arched an eyebrow at him, staying on my feet. None of the men in this room scared me. “The father of the fucking kid you just put in danger,” he snarled at me. I narrowed my eyes at him in my deadliest glare. “So, sit the fuck down.”
“Now,” Tristan breathed in my ear, his tone not allowing any room for argument.
With a harsh glare thrown at both of the men, I sat down in a random chair, crossing my arms over my chest. Joey sat back down in his seat, his eyes steady on mine, knowing how I could get. “Want to fucking explain to us why you just had a conversation with Rodney Hill?” Joey snapped at me. “How many times do I have to fucking tell you that man isn’t one to be fucked with, Adelaide?”
I sneered at him. “Numerous times, apparently,” I bit back, wanting to piss him off further.
Tristan slammed his hand on the table. I swung my angry gaze to him. “Enough!” he barked, jabbing a finger in my direction. I sneered at him, my upper lip curling up one side. He looked between me and Zyla. “One of you better start fucking explaining yourselves.”
“My question is,” Jesup started, his voice eerily calm, “is why the fuck he was calling your phone, Zyla.”
“He didn’t—” she started, but Jesup slammed her phone on the table so hard that it shattered the screen. Tristan must have grabbed it while we were walking toward the chapel.