Waylen’s heart skips a beat. Why hasn’t she slept with Andrew? He wonders. If she really loved or wanted him, she wouldn’t have fought him off like that. Is there some part of her that still loves me?
He takes another look at Leilani. She’s sipping a coffee and staring out the window. She looks like a painting. He walks across the room and sits at his table. Before he can order a coffee, Anthony Peters rushes up to him.
“Please, sit down, Mr. Peters,” Waylen says, gesturing to a chair.
Anthony sits down and says, “Please, Mr. Bamford doesn’t do this to our company—after all, we’re family.”
“Actually, we’re not,” Waylen says, leaning back in his chair. “We haven’t formally announced it, but Leilani and I are divorced.”
“No,” Anthony says, his face going pale. “That can’t be right.”
Waylen barely hears Anthony—he’s too busy watching Leilani. A waiter between them drops a tray of coffee, and Leilani turns. She sees her father and jumps to her feet, rushing over to the table without a second thought.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” she asks.
“Leilani, you need to help me,” Anthony says. “Waylen here wants to buy the Peters Company.”
“You’re buying my father’s company?” Leilani asks, an angry blush creeping up her cheeks. “Just to get back at me?”
“It has nothing to do with you,” Waylen lies. “This is just business. I saw a struggling company with many potentials, and I decided to buy it.”
“If it was struggling so badly, why did you buy it?” Leilani asks.
Waylen smirks and asks, “Why are you asking me?”
Leilani doesn’t know what to say. Waylen stares at her over his cup of coffee—his expression calm and calculating. She bites her lip and looks at her father. His eyes are wide, and there’s a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. He’s twisting the linen napkin around and around in his hand.
“Answer his question,” Anthony hisses.
“I’m asking you because I don’t understand your decision at all,” Leilani says. “You just admitted that the Peters Company isn’t doing so well—why are you so determined to buy it? What do you want, Waylen?”
Waylen laughs low in his throat. Leilani tries to glare at him, but he’s too busy typing something on his phone to notice. His long, white fingers slide back and forth across the glass screen, and Leilani shivers; she can’t help but remember how they felt on her skin.
“You know exactly what I want,” Waylen says with a slow, meaningful look.
His eyes linger on her lips and then drop down to her chest. He stares at her as if she’s n.a.k.e.d, and she feels blood rush to her face. She glances down at her dress to check if it’s see-through in the bright restaurant light, but it’s not. She clenches her hands into fists under the table.
These men are shameless, she thinks. First, Andrew tries to use Charles’ life as a bargaining chip, and now Waylen is using my family’s business to threaten me. They want to force me to do what they want—to sleep with them, to tell them I love them— but none of them care about what I want. It’s disgusting.
“I swear, Waylen, I have no idea what you want,” she says sweetly. “Perhaps you can remind me?”
Waylen raises his eyebrows and asks, “Did you sleep well last night?”
“As a matter of fact, I did,” she says, hoping to make him jealous. “The suite I’m in is very comfortable—the bed is large but cozy.”
Waylen frowns and slams his coffee cup onto the table. The veiled reference to her shared suite with Andrew is enough to infuriate him. Anthony glances between her and Waylen, his face wrinkled with confusion.
“I heard Andrew had a heart attack last night,” Waylen says. “There are other rumors about a groin injury too. What do you know about that, Leilani?”
She tries to hide her surprise, but she’s sure Waylen sees it. It makes sense that he knows, she thinks. People can be bought—I’m sure Waylen has spies among Andrew’s servants and bodyguards.
“Why would you want to put your s.e.x.u.a.l satisfaction in danger?” Waylen asks.
She glances sideways at her father and glares at Waylen. She can’t believe he’s talking about this in front of her dad. She shakes her head warningly but doubts that Waylen will back down.
“What do you know about other people’s s.e.x lives?” she asks.
“Apparently, very little,” Waylen says. “But you seem to know a lot. So why don’t you explain it to me?”
Waylen glances down at his phone, and her mind races. She knows Waylen wants to get her back, but there’s no way she can leave Andrew—Charles’ life depends on her promise to stay with Andrew for six months. Of course, Waylen could probably take the heart by force, but that would start a war between the Bamford’s and the Cliffords. If Waylen killed Andrew, the Cliffords wouldn’t rest until he was dead.
Besides, it would be cruel to deprive Andrew of the last six months of his life, she thinks. The thought makes her gasp with horror. Have I started to sympathize with Andrew? She wonders. Either way, it doesn’t matter—I made the deal, and there’s no way to break it now. In six months, I can save Charles’ life and complete Andrew’s dying wish. I can’t afford to have regrets.
“Well, I’m still waiting for that explanation,” Waylen says.
“That’s a personal topic, and it’s not appropriate to talk about,” she says. “Anyway, I can tell you’re not serious about buying our company. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I think you’ve wasted enough of our time.”
She stands and taps her father on the shoulder. He looks up at her with confusion but refuses to stand. She tugs his shoulder again, but he shakes his head.
“Come on, Dad,” she says. “It’s time to go. Waylen clearly hasn’t thought this decision through. There’s no point in staying to talk to him.”
“What are you talking about?” Anthony asks. “Mr. Bamford hasn’t even agreed to anything. We can’t leave until we work this out.”
“Seriously, Dad, it’s time to go,” she says. “Trust me, and I’ll work this out on my own.”
Anthony jerks his shoulder away from her touch. She reaches out to touch him again, but he swats her hand away. She feels herself blush with shame and anger—her own father is shunning her in public now.
A vein in Anthony’s forehead starts to throb, and he says, “Trust you to work it out? Do you think I’m a fool? How can you possibly do anything on your own? Without Waylen, you’re nothing.”
“Yes, please stay and talk,” Waylen says, his voice smooth and persuasive.
She bites her tongue and grabs her purse off the back of the chair. She can’t bear to spend another second at the same table as them—both of them seem eager to embarrass her. Besides, she’s afraid of spending time around Waylen. I’m weak, she thinks. If I spend too much time around him, I might make another mistake. I can’t afford to let anything like last night ever happen again.
“I know you don’t believe me, dad, but trust me, Waylen isn’t interested in negotiating with you,” she says. “Spare yourself the frustration and just walk away now.”
“I know this isn’t how I raised you—Peters aren’t quitters,” Anthony says, his voice thick with disappointment. “Anyway, it’s clear you don’t care about helping this family or me. Go away, and I’ll handle this myself.”
Waylen smirks at her as she turns to leave. She feels his eyes burning into her back as she crosses the room and sits at Andrew’s table. It takes everything she has to avoid looking over at him as she picks at her breakfast.
After a while, she calls the waiter over and asks him to prepare every breakfast option for Andrew. Within a few minutes, several waiters bustle out of the kitchen carrying dozens of paper bags filled with tin containers. The bodyguards take the food, and Leilani rises to leave.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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