Page 112 of Sinful Bride

Again, our prisoner sniffs and glares at me through her swollen eyes. “Because fuck you, that’s why.”

Sofi looks to me. I nod. She walks over to the end table, picks up the hot flat iron, and starts bringing it over to Brittany.

She’s not even halfway there before Brittany crumbles.

“Alright!” she screams. “Alright! Okay! I’ll talk!”

I can only roll my eyes in disgust. Daphne would never break this easily, and she’s supposed to be under this greedy bitch’s thumb?

“If I have to repeat myself again,” I warn, “my sister here will start finding things to iron out.”

As if on cue, Sofi taps the hot plates to Brittany’s collarbone, making the woman shriek in surprise and pain.

“Whoops! I slipped.”

“Fucking bitch!” Brittany spits at her. She recalculates her strategy when the plates clap together in front of her face. “It’s not what you think! I swear! I’ve got nothing to do with it!”

“Debatable. Go on.”

“It’s Scott Brennan, okay? You know him. That pervy senator or whatever.”

I frown. She’s got my full attention now. “What about him?”

“He’s the Hamishes’ bank account. Sugar daddy, whatever. So was that dumbass FBI agent Smithson, until you came along and messed everything up.”

Sofi glances at me. “They’re desperate.”

For once, Brittany agrees with her. “They’re incredibly desperate, and they don’t fucking care who they hurt in the process as long as they get what they want.”

“Which is…?”

She levels her glare at me. “You. Dead or alive, but they want you gone.”

“And Brennan’s in on this because…? What’s his cut?”

“He’s being investigated. Rumor has it he dipped his pen into the wrong ink, and now, the feds are working with the White House to expose him.” She spits some blood onto the floor. “Him and his whores. He’s been skimming government funds to pay for his… hobbies. Last I heard, he wanted to make sure that, when he goes down, you go down with him.”

Because of all the dirt I have on him, I’m guessing. It makes a certain kind of sense. I hate it, but I can’t argue with the logic of a madman.

Sofi waves the iron in front of Brittany’s face. “Still doesn’t explain what you have to do with it.”

“They needed me. And my access. And I needed to teach their spoiled little bitch a lesson, so we traded.” Brittany looks to me again. “You should have updated your systems after we left.”

“A mistake I will be correcting immediately,” I promise.

“Better get on it. Paris has a bone to pick with you, and she’s my backup. If anything happens to me, she’s got all the codes and backdoor procedures to give the Hamishes everything they want. You, your company, your slutty wife?—”

She’s cut off by a shrill scream when Sofi holds the side of the iron to her jaw.

I check my watch. “We better cut this quick. I need to?—”

A knock at the door has all of us silent and still.

Brittany looks hopeful.

Sofi looks ready to pounce on whoever it is about to see something they shouldn’t.

I’m ready to either smooth talk or shoot a cop if need be.

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