Chapter 12 - The Arrogant Laugh
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Instead of begging, Brandon slowly lowered his hand. He looked at the shattered front doors, then at the armed guards, and finally at my father.
And then, Brandon suddenly laughed.
It wasn't a laugh of panic. It was a dark, knowing chuckle that sent a severe chill down my spine.
"You think you won?" Brandon smirked, wiping a drop of sweat from his forehead. "You think kicking down a door makes you the king of this city, Marcus?"
My father stopped. His eyes narrowed slightly. Brandon had used his real first name.
"You're a dead man talking, boy," my father warned softly.
"Maybe," Brandon smiled, stepping closer to my father, showing zero fear of the guns pointed at his head. "But you really have no idea who you married your daughter off to, do you?"
"You're a con artist who tried to steal my daughter's money," my father stated coldly.
"Her money?" Brandon laughed again, louder this time. "This was never about her pathetic little corporate empire. This was never about the shares, or the offshore accounts, or the real estate."
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Brandon turned to look at me, a wicked, triumphant gleam in his eye.
"It has always been about you, Evelyn."
