Page 34 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife
That much is true. The guilt in his eyes though, had I imagined it? Nah, not likely.
I survey the room, "Don’t go getting your knickers in a twist people. I can assure you that, unlike Father here, I don’t have an altruistic bone in my body. This way, we own these people until the day they die, not to mention ongoing revenue streams.”
"Self-perpetuating assets? Works for me." Arpad stretches, yawns. "We done now?"
"Hold on." Saint prowls over, "How do we choose what to invest in?"
"Prospective applicants present their projects, and—"
"We get them to pitch to us." Arpad lowers his chin.
"That’s good."
"You bet it is." He walks up to us. "It’s a good idea, Sin, for once."
Right.
"The next meeting is in my offices." Saint growls.
Of course, he’d want the last word.
"Sure." I tilt my head.
His eyebrows knit. "If there isn’t anything else…" he stalks to the door.
"I am not done yet."
"FOK Media is taking on an agency to help with the marketing."
"Oh?" Saint swings around. "Who heads the agency? Someone you’re shagging?"
I glower at him.
"Interviewed her earlier. She’ll manage our social media presence, and start seeding PR stories, get the ball rolling."
"Definitely shagging her." Damian scratches his chin.
"Did you think she’d have merits of her own?"
"Does she?" Weston’s mouth quirks.
Not only.
"At least she's not an employee. That's something." Arpad drags his fingers through his hair.
"You have something to say to me, dipshit?"
He holds up his hands, "Hey, I am not the one with a hard on for her."
I frown. How dare he talk about her in that fashion?
He drums his fingers on his chest, "If she's not an employee, at least it doesn't open us up to further legal issues, when you pursue her."
"That is not going to happen." I grind my teeth so hard that pain slices up my jaw.
"So you’re not interested in her?" Saint scratches his chin.
"No."
