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I can just imagine the steam pouring out his ears and the screaming. My father will be furious.
I took one of his toys.
Oh no, how fucking sad.
The cunt.
“I heard she’s taken off to England.” Trisha fromThe Midday Reportsaid to her three co-anchors.
I wonder where she heard that?
She got an anonymous tip from me, that’s where.
“I think we can all agree this isn’t a love match, can’t we?”
“He’s not exactly Prince Charming,” one replied.
“Unless you’re in your sixties.” Another chuckled.
I smile as I gaze out the window and we pull up outside my building.
Pierce will be going out of his mind.
God, I wish I could watch it live.
We’re just getting started, Daddy Dearest.
“Have a good night, Mr. Sterling,” Mitch says as I climb out of the vehicle.
“You, too.” I stride across the sidewalk and head up in the elevator, my heart pounding harder than it should at the thought of facing my little prisoner.
She was sleeping when I took her breakfast this morning. As I stood watching her face from the doorway, I almost cracked and crossed the room.
Why?
“Hola, Mr. Sterling.” Alma greets me.
“Hola, Alma.”
“Dinner is in the oven. I will turn it on.” She offers.
“Thanks.”
By the time I’ve ripped off my tie, dropped my keys and phone on the marble countertop in the kitchen and said goodbye to her, the buzzer on the wall indicates I have a visitor.
“Fucking Parker,” I mutter and walk over to press the button.
I don’t say anything.
“Let me up.” He growls through a slight crackle.
“Why?”
“You know why.”
Motherfucker.
I press the button to give him permission to reach my penthouse floor, then walk into the living room where I pour two glasses of whisky.