Page 18 of Thorns of Malice

Bobby lunges toward my desk. He slams his hand on it. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Whatever are you talking about?" I question, just to piss him off further.

He roars, "You know damn well what I'm talking about, Dax!"

I innocently ask, "Oh, do you mean all the drugs that counteract the drug you've been giving women for over a decade?"

His eyes turn to slits. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"Don't I?"

"No, you don't."

I keep my cool, replying, "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you lying all those years about all the women you've drugged?"

"Since when are you the fucking moral police?"

I slowly grin. "Oh, I'm not, but I told you numerous times that you went too far. You didn't listen to me, Bobby. By the way, how was the French Riviera or wherever you were?"

He scowls. "Better than this fucking place. But thanks to you, I had to come back."

A wave of satisfaction hits me. Bobby spends as much time as possible in the South of France. The fact my little announcement interrupted his six month, or however long it is this time, trip, only makes me mentally high-five myself. Bobby's as lazy now as he was in high school, and all he does is live off his trust fund.

I taunt, "Why? Is the DA's office already after you?"

He leans closer to me. "Why would you decide to come after the Winstons?"

I grunt. "Your family name doesn't scare me. You must have been in the sun too long and forgot I'm a Carrington."

He stares at me a moment, then laughs.

"What's so funny?" I ask.

"This is a joke, right? You did this to get me back in the States. You're ready to get back into the game?" he questions.

I chuckle too, asking, "You think I'd go on national television and announce I filed for patents just to get you to return to Connecticut?"

Red burns his cheeks, and his anger returns. "Are you seriously for real doing this? You're going to release those drugs?"

"Yeah, of course I am. I've spent billions developing them."

"Since when are you in the pharmaceutical business?"

I tsk. "Bobby, Bobby, Bobby. Didn't your daddy explain to you that when you have money, you can go into any business you want? It's all about hiring smart people. You would know that if you ever started to work."

He stares at me a moment longer. He once again finds a way to calm himself. I have to give him credit. The Bobby I remember didn't know how to do that when he thought someone wronged him. He sits across from me, puts his ankle over his knee, and positions his fingers like mine. "Okay, Dax. What do you want?"

"What do you mean what do I want?" I question, enjoying watching him squirm and beg for something I'll never give him.

He blows out a frustrated breath. "What do you want in exchange for those drugs? Sell them to Winston Pharmaceuticals."

"Now, why would I do that?"

He flips back to anger. "You motherfucker. You tell me what the price is. You know those drugs shouldn't be out on the street."

I scoff. "Mydrugs shouldn't be on the street? Don't you meanyourdrugs? You know, the ones your father gave you access to that are now all over the street for the sole purpose of raping women?"

"Shut the fuck up. I've never raped a woman in my life," he claims.

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