Kaden Graham Harrison.
His world is home to billionaires, future presidents, models and children of diplomats.
People who had the power to rule the world before they were even born. He can buy himself everything with the snap of his fingers.
Booze...
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"Can you please remind me why we cannot just take the jet? Who buys a custom-made private plane for 98 million and doesn't use it? Oh, nevermind. You didn't buy it, I did," Harvey huffs out. Even though his words sound like a grade A spoiled douchebag, I know the guy better, and there is genuine interest in his tone.
I stop in my tracks and turn around to look at him, Ray and Oliver lined up behind me.
"Of course, I can remind you, Mr. Remington. Because I fucking said so," I say in a calm tone, even though there is a hurricane whirling inside me. I tightly fist the handle of my black Louis Vuitton travel bag to stop my hands from reaching around someone's throat.
Because I fucking said so. Because she fucking said so.
"That amount of carbon dioxide is more than Uganda produces in a year."
Her words might make me feel bad and regretful for how I have been, but it's not only that. I want to be better. There is a part inside me that tells me if she explains something, I have to read it off her lips and then... her words are law. My brows draw together, trying to figure out when this happened. When did I become her slave? The second thought is she can never know.
"Great that we all have to fly commercial now because your Ally said so," Ray mocks me, and I know he just wants me to admit it. He wants me to tell him the things he wants to hear. Me feeling.
I lay my palm on his chest.
"Mhm. I apologize, princess. But it's no problem at all. If you don't feel comfortable in your $4000 seat in the first class, I will gladly open the door and push you out," I say in a cheerful voice, while he just blinks at me.
I look down at my ticket to check for the hundredth time if we are actually on the right path to check-in and then start hastily walking. Even though we still have time to catch the flight, my focus is on point and my mind on her. I grip the knot of my tie and pull on it harshly, the burn leaving a tingling sensation on my skin as I loosen it with the force my tired arm can muster from the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
Nine hours and fourteen minutes ago, the clock ran up, and I landed the last punch causing the K.O. right only seconds before the time to fight was over. My brows draw together at the reminder of the feeling of blood tickling down my palm.
The slice on my inner underarm aches with every wrong move, the enormous hematoma building around because I wouldn't let myself get treated.
Not after winning the fight against an opponent who was way more muscular and bulkier and towered over me by at least 5 inches. I grin at the thought of how many jaws must have dropped as they realized they shouldn't have bet against me. The money many must have lost, those who never watched me before and thought they could easily win a couple of thousands by betting on my loss. I didn't doubt myself for a second, not with the buildup of anger in my limbs and not with the switching image of at first Katherine and then Eli's and Valeria's parents on my rival's face. Not when the cracking of his jaw meant in my head Elizabeth's suffering.
