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Chapter 9

MADDIE

Wyatt's eyebrow shot up in surprise before a loud, mocking laugh erupted from him, filling every corner of the living room. "That was supposed to be an investment for his company, Maddie. Not a charity handout. Why would I give him that money now when he has no company to run?"

I felt a surge of anger, but I forced myself to stay calm. "This wouldn't happen if you didn't pull the stunt that you did at our wedding! We wouldn't be in this situation it weren't for you. The least you could is give me the money that you promised!" I insisted.

He just chuckled, taking another sip from the glass of whiskey in his hand. My legs trembled with embarrassment, feeling like they might give out at any moment. I glanced around the room, taking in the faces of the onlookers who had witnessed our exchange.

Lizzie stood off to the side, a tiny smirk playing on her lips, clearly enjoying my humiliation. Wyatt's mother, seated elegantly on a nearby sofa. She looked at me with a mixture of disdain and satisfaction, her expression radiating disapproval.

On the other hand, I could read the other man's expression as he continued to look at me with intense gaze.

What is he doing here? How is he really connected to Wyatt?

I swallowed hard, trying to muster the strength to hold my head high despite the shame and anger boiling inside me. My mind raced with thoughts of my father, lying in a hospital bed, needing help that I couldn't provide.

I took a deep breath, swallowing my pride. I need that money, and I'm getting it no matter how. "My father is in the hospital. He need that money for surgery. If you still have some decency left in your body, you'd honor the promise you made to my father."

He shook his head, still smiling. "I'm sorry about your father, really, I am. But business is business. I can't just hand over ten million dollars without any prospect of return."

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my voice steady. "Wyatt, you owe us. You owe me. After everything you did, the least you can do is help us now when we need it the most."

Wyatt sighed and set his glass down, his expression turning serious. "Maddie, I understand you're desperate. But you can't expect me to throw away that kind of money for nothing."

"It wouldn't be for nothing," I insisted. "You know my father. You know he would never have asked for that money if he didn't think he could turn the company around. He just needs time."

"And what do I get in return?" Wyatt asked, leaning back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "What guarantees do I have that this isn't just a lost cause?"

"You're not thinking about giving her that money, Wyatt?" his mother interrupted, her tone icy. She straightened in her chair, her disapproving gaze fixed on me.

"Yes, you weren't going to do that, right, honey?" Lizzie chimed in, her voice dripping with condescension. She stood from the couch and walked over to Wyatt, wrapping her arms around him and deliberately flaunting the massive engagement ring on her finger.

"It seems you've even managed to get my uncle's attention," Wyatt said, an evil grin dancing on his lips. He gestured toward the man, who was observing the scene with a calculating gaze. "Oh, where are my manners? I'd like to introduce you to my Uncle Hades."

So, that was his name. Hades. He was Wyatt's uncle. They looked almost the same age, which was odd. And now that he mentioned it, that name sounded familiar. It took me a moment to place it: Hades Atticus Grant. The man who owns almost every hotel in the country. Now, I understand why he always refused when I offered to pay him. I even remember the shock on his face when I throw him some cash the first night we had s3x inside my car. It turns out he has more money than all our assets combined.

I had heard stories about him—stories of ruthless business tactics and a relentless drive for power. He leaned forward slightly, his piercing eyes locking onto mine. "So, Maddie," he began, his voice smooth and authoritative, "what exactly are you proposing?"

I couldn't believe how small I felt under the scrutinizing eyes of these people who had made us miserable. Was it really worth giving them the satisfaction of watching me beg for money? I bit my lower lip so hard I could almost taste the blood. I was battling with myself, weighing whether I should continue this or not. In the end, I decided to leave with my dignity intact.

"You know what? Forget it. I didn't need your money then, and I surely won't be needing your money now," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. With that, I turned my back and walked briskly towards the door.

As I left the house, I could hear their mocking laughter echoing behind me. Each step away from them felt like a weight lifting off my shoulders, but the sting of their derision still lingered, but I held my head high and walked out with my pride intact.

Outside, the cool air hit my face, and I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I had no idea what my next move would be, but I knew one thing for sure: I would find a way to save my father without crawling back to those vultures. Their money came with too high a price, and I wasn't willing to pay it.

As soon as I reached the sidewalk, I walked as fast as I could. I couldn't bear staying near that house for another second. I was also worried that my anger might boil over and I'd do something reckless.

My mind was elsewhere, lost in a haze of frustration, so I didn't notice the sleek black car following beside me. I was startled when a strong hand suddenly grabbed my wrist. Instinctively, I raised my hand to strike whoever it was, but then my eyes locked onto a familiar pair of green eyes that could melt my insides.

"You?" I uttered in shock. "What are you doing here? What do you want?" I snapped at him, yanking my wrist free from his grip.

He didn't flinch at my sharp tone. Instead, he maintained a calm demeanor, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "I told you, Maddie," he said, his voice steady and unwavering, "I'm interested in seeing how far you're willing to go to save your father."

I squinted at him, trying to figure out what he was up to. His sudden appearance stirred up a mix of feelings in me—anger, confusion, and a bit of desperation. I couldn't shake the feeling he had a hidden reason for showing up, especially after what happened at his house.

"What game are you playing?" I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and vulnerability. "You think this is some kind of joke? Is it your habit to sleep with the woman your nephew was supposed to marry?" I said mockingly.

I immediately took a step back when I saw his eyes darkened while his jaw clenched. I gulped as my heart races in fear.

He then took a step forward, taking the little distance between us and leaving our body only inches apart. He acted as if he didn't mind that we were on the sidewalk. I gasped for air when he suddenly wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me against his masculine body.

"First, let me remind you that you were the one who pulled me inside your car. It was you who initiated the s3x, and it was you who assumed that I was a gigolo. So, don't you dare pinned it on me," he said. His fresh minty breath brushing against my face.

I hate it that he was actually spitting facts. I can't accused him of anything just because he happens to be Wyatt's uncle.

The closeness of our body caused my heart to beat erratically. I tried to push him away, but he was just tightened his arm around my waist.

I just blew a loud sigh, and roll my eyes before crossing my arms in front of my chest hoping to put some distance between our bodies.

"What do you want?" I demanded, narrowing my eyes in frustration.

"Get in the car. We need to talk somewhere private," he commanded.

I rolled my eyes, muttering to myself, "So, bossy," before reluctantly climbing into his car.


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