Fifty Million Reasons To Hate Him

ugh the floor-to-ceiling win

t. His head throbbed violently from the

relentlessly on

grabbed the device, an

through the speaker. "The fifty million dollar trust f

ed blankly at

lly active," the lawyer contin

up without s

empty left side of the king-sized b

spike of irritation

pped on his iMessage app.

e last text. Just to

money and stay the

it s

ation point popped up next to

e screen. His thumb h

locke

ng to worship the ground he walked on had bl

f anger floo

yped her handle into the

ht. He grabbed his work tablet from his briefca

is. Her profile po

tory, restricted to a

pped the gl

k of a luxury yacht, wearing a tiny, neon-pink bikini. She was h

the cage! Single life is the best

tightened until the glass scre

he room. It smashed into the

om, his bare feet slapping

, open-concept kitchen. He

always made look entirely effortless. For three years, a perfectly brewed cup of black coffee was simply waiting for him on the marble island the moment he walked in.

ry liquid that was an absolute insult to the premium beans. Finally, a jet of scalding hot steam shot out of the

and marched into his walk

uit. He reached for the specific sil

dreds of neatly rolled ties.

the perfect organization. He couldn't find the tie. He also

sense of frustrati

naged his life with terrifying efficiency. Withou

ack tie, threw it around his

or at the Torres Group headquarters, t

s dark, murderous expression and

usly followed him into the

dule for t

my apartment?" Harrison snapped, t

sed to let outside staff into the private residence. Sh

ed into a sneer at

sitting down heavily in his leather chair. "I want a

lias said, tu

rison's voi

t Elias. His eyes wer

out exactly what she took when she move

ring about a single pair of cufflinks was absur

ck in his chair an

n that pink bikini burned ag

. It had thrown his entire existence