Page 296 of Sin Bin

“What the fuck do you want?” he growled.

She smiled, unfazed by his harsh words. “I see you found Lucien’s favorite hiding place. Like father, like son.”

“Hardly.” Logan turned away to stare out into the murky depths of the water.

“It’s not much of a view until we get out on the ocean. That’s when you can see the bluefin tuna, sea turtles, jellyfish, whales, sharks. It’s rather stunning. Maybe someday you can join us on one of our family cruises.”

Logan was silent as Chantal came to stand beside him at the window, her expensive perfume wafting around him.

“That was quite a dramatic exit you made. Tongues will be wagging for years.” She chuckled low in her throat. “I must say, you’re not behaving like a man who was just promised a share of an $18 billion fortune.”

“I don’t want his fucking money,” Logan snarled.

“Take it, anyway. You’re just as entitled to an inheritance as your brother and sister. It’s your birthright.”

He snorted harshly and shook his head. When his phone buzzed again, he ignored it.

Chantal gave him an amused look. “Shouldn’t you get that?”

He didn’t respond.

She sighed. “Meadow is a very lovely girl. Callum is certainly taken with her. But I wouldn’t have pegged her as your type.”

Logan scowled. “What would you know about my type? You don’t know shit about me.”

“I know enough.”

“You don’t know shit.” He propped a shoulder against the window and raked her with a taunting look. “So why haven’t you given the old man a child yet? Isn’t that one of the reasons rich guys trade in the first wife for a newer, younger model? To produce more offspring? Aren’t you supposed to help your husband achieve immortality through his progeny?” He smiled mockingly. “Or are you worried that motherhood will ruin your girlish figure? Are you just arm candy, Chantal? Or does your husband expect you to breed more sons?”

Her mouth tightened.

Logan searched her face. “What’s wrong? Are you and my father having fertility issues?”

Her blue eyes hardened. “That’s none of your business.”

“Ahh. So that’s why you haven’t given him another heir.” Logan wagged a warning finger at her. “Better watch out. You know what happens to women who stop being useful to Lucien. He discards them like yesterday’s trash. And then, of course, you’ve got karma breathing down your neck.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What karma?”

Logan lifted an eyebrow. “Weren’t you his mistress while he was married to his first wife? Surely you’ve heard the saying ‘How you got him is how you’ll lose him’?”

Chantal looked like she wanted to slap him. “You really are your father’s son, aren’t you?” she hissed. “Salaud.”

He laughed. “Well, technically, I am a bastard. So you’ll have to come up with a better insult than that.”

That drew a small smile from her. “Do you speak French, Logan?”

“No.”

She laughed. “And yet I’ve seen you conduct postgame interviews entirely in French.”

He smirked at her. “If you already know that I speak French, why did you ask?”

She smiled, slithering closer. “Just making polite conversation.”

He gave her a sardonic look. “Is that why you followed me down here? To make polite conversation?”

“I think you know the answer to that question.” Dropping all pretenses, she pressed her body against his, sliding her hand inside his tuxedo jacket to rub his chest.

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