Page 53 of Hunted Temptation
“What?” he asks.
“My father’s money. You said you got it all, and I could have it when I was ready. I’m ready.”
Lucille squeals, but I don’t look over my shoulder at her. I keep my focus on Vaughn. His brows knit together. He seems confused by my words, but I know he isn’t. He understands precisely what I’m saying.
“What about your future?” he asks.
I’m taking a gigantic leap by saying what I’m about to say. “You’re my future, Vaughn. That money is just a reminder of my past, and I don’t want it. We can use it for good.”
“And killing people is good?” he asks.
“Those people?” I ask. “Yes, it is good. In fact, I would say it’s probably the best thing ever to do. I would fall asleep peacefully at night knowing they weren’t hurting any more children.”
“Well then, let’s set up some listings. How much money do I have to play with?” Lucille asks.
Vaughn breaks our connection and lifts his head, his eyes moving away from mine and past my shoulder to where I assume Lucille is standing. When he speaks, my entire body jerks, my spine straightens, my muscles tighten, and I suck in a breath. I can’t believe the words that come out of his mouth.
“One hundred million.”
Chapter Twenty-One
VAUGHN
Once the shockhas worn off, I gather Elodie and take her home. Before I leave, I send Lucille and Theron a group text with the go-ahead to enact Lucille’s crazy fucking plan. I actually fucking like it. And using Scoggins’s own money is just fucking desserts. I’m here for it.
Once we pull into the parking lot of my building, I look in the rearview mirror, and the PI is there, making himself known. Something I thought was just him being a dumbass, but he was trying to play me the entire time.
Thankfully, I’m not the idiot he assumed I was, and I’m smart enough not to give him a damn thing.
Turning around in my seat, I lift my hand and give him a wave. I don’t care if he knows I see him. In fact, I want him to be completely goddamn aware. And if he’s got a brain at all, he’ll know that my entire place is secure and under surveillance to the fucking nth degree.
“Stay here,” I demand of Elodie.
I open the car door and close it behind me, then walk around the front of the car, opening the passenger door for her. Holding out my hand, my palm facing upward, I wait for her fingers to slip inside mine.
As soon as they do, I curl mine around her hand and gently tug her up to standing. Sliding my hand around her back, curling around her waist, I pull her against my chest, dip my chin, and touch my mouth to hers.
Elodie melts against me.
She fucking owns me.
Sucking in a deep breath, I take a step backward and tug her behind me. It doesn’t take the elevator long to climb and reach our floor. When I open the condo door, she slips inside before I do. Hearing my name being called, I turn my head and watch as the PI walks toward me.
“Vaughn?” Elodie calls out.
“Go to my bedroom and lock the door,” I demand.
I don’t have to look at her to know that she’s doing exactly what I’ve demanded she do. Elodie will never put herself in danger unless absolutely necessary, and I will never put her in that situation. That is something I appreciate about her. And she knows that this man is fucking trouble.
“Can I help you?” I ask as I turn toward the asshole.
“I just wanted to talk to Elodie,” he says, seemingly calm and rational.
I don’t give a fuck what he is. He could be a goddamn saint, and I still would not give a fuck at all whatsoever. Pressing my lips together, I watch him as he tries to think of something else to say to me. He’s not going to talk me into anything, not now and not fucking ever.
“I think it’s time for you to get inside your little car and drive the fuck back to California,” I state.
He arches a brow. “I won’t be leaving until I can talk to Elodie.”
