Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“I was conveniently mugged,” he hisses at me. “Probably your thug family.”
I laugh. “There is no way it would be my family.”
“Yeah, right.” He shakes his head.
“If it was my family,” I state calmly, “you’d be drinking out of a straw, and you would have to be wheeled in here because they would make sure to break every single bone in your body.” His eyes pop out of his head. “Maybe it’s one of your fuck buddies’ husbands who got wind of whatever it is you do with them.” I shrug, not giving a shit and Ryleigh is right, fuck him. “Either way, I don’t really care.”
“Lexi,” Ryleigh says my name and I look over at her, and she motions with her head, not even taking Trent into her eyesight. I walk to her. “You good?” she mumbles as we are being led down to the end of the hallway.
“Oh yeah,” I confirm, “more than good.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” she praises as we are ushered in a conference room. A brown table is in the middle of the room with three chairs on each side, facing each other.
She pulls out the chair in the middle, putting her briefcase on the chair next to her, while I sit on the other side of her. “What happened to his face?” she asks, reaching into her bag and pulling out the envelope and a folder.
“He got mugged.” I sit down, trying not to laugh. “He tried to blame my family. I told him if it was, he’d be in worse shape.”
She snorts. “If it was us, no one would be able to find him,” she mumbles. “I love when the bad guys get fucked.” She stops talking when the door opens, and a gentleman dressed in a three-piece suit comes in. His white hair is thinning on the top, but healthy on the sides. He is followed by Trent, who just sneers at us. Ryleigh crosses her hands in front of her. “Gentlemen,” she says, not getting up to extend her hand, “shall we get started?” She looks at her Rolex. “You are four minutes late.”
“Have you given any more thought to our offer?” the man asks once he’s sitting.
“Are you going to sign the NDA?” Trent snaps out.
“Not a chance in hell.” I smile at him.
“Greedy bitch,” he mumbles and Ryleigh cuts him off.
“If you don’t control your client, this meeting will be cut very short and, trust me, you guys don’t want that to happen,” she warns. “Now, shall we get started?” She opens the folder. “My client is looking to get both houses, the marital one and the one that’s, well”—she looks down at the papers—“his fuck pad.” She grimaces. “And she would also want alimony.”
“Fuck that,” Trent spits, “she gets nothing. She came into this marriage with nothing, she leaves with nothing.”
“I was hoping you would say that. First of all, you never asked her to sign a prenup, therefore, she is entitled to alimony. Either your attorney didn’t explain that to you or you’re not as smart as you think you are.” His face turns beet red and he looks like he has steam coming out of his ears. “Second, this just goes to show how little you know about Lexi’s family because if you did, then you would know they are wealthier and more powerful than you are. She actually came into this marriage with more money than you. However, it doesn’t matter if she had zero money or if she was a billionaire when you got married, this marriage is over. She’s entitled to alimony and it’s time for you to pay up. And trust me, you will,” Ryleigh says, smiling, opening the envelope Casey gave her. “Here are pictures of Mr. Yoder.” She hands them the first paper of him with other women. She adds, “All taken from their Ring cam.” I look over at her, trying not to gasp. “Many of them are married. The one who is a constant is Joyce.” I can’t help but laugh.
“You fucked your best friend’s wife?” I shake my head. “How desperate do you have to be?”
“So what, he had affairs,” his lawyer replies. “There is nothing illegal about that.”
“You’re right, there isn’t.” She looks at me. “That was just for fun. This”—she pulls out the paper—“Mr. Yoder started a nonprofit organization under shell companies in an effort to get the governor elected. Which as you know, Counselor, is highly illegal. If this gets out, Mr. Yoder—”
Trent interrupts her, “It’s Dr. Yoder to you! I am the chief of neurosurgery at the hospital and you will respect me.”
I lean back in my chair looking over at Ryleigh who chuckles. “It’s funny that you’re demanding respect when you gave none to my client. As I was saying, if this gets out, Trent.” She doesn’t even use his last name now, which I know must be killing him and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling in his face. “Well, let’s just say that orange is going to be your new black. I’m sure the inmates will give you all the ‘respect’ you deserve.” She pushes away from the table and I look up at her, not sure if I’m supposed to stand with her. We march out in unison, but I can see the smirk on her face as she walks over to the trash can in the corner and brings it back, putting it on the table, pushing it toward where Trent and his lawyer sit. “You can put the NDA in here where it belongs.”