Chaz slapped Helen across the face, leaving her seeing stars.

“You asked for it!” he bellowed. “Take her away!”

While Helen was being shoved into a BMW, a black Maybach drove into The Dynasty’s parking lot as well.

Vicky was riding shotgun dressed in a bewitching purple dress, watching Frank as she asked, “Henry Lane’s funeral will be held in a few days. Are you attending it?”

“Yeah.” Frank nodded somberly. “He saved my life. No matter what the Lanes did, I’ll send him off one last time.”

It has been three days, and he had gathered himself by now.

Vicky nodded with a smile. Just as she was going to start talking about what they should drink, she frowned as she spotted a single stiletto in the middle of the parking lot.

“What the heck?”

was unusual, and her

toward brands after all, and Vicky could tell that it was expensive. Moreover, she had seen the size and design

Screech!

opposite side stopped beside their Maybach,

If it isn’t Frank Lawrence and Ms. Turnbull! What, here to get drunk as well?” Chaz whistled pointedly at Frank, in

off,” Frank snapped, which immediately left

how long you’ll keep up that pompous act.” He snorted and turned toward Vicky, raising his brow repeatedly and flirtatiously. “Forgive me for being Frank, Ms. Turnbull, but

I think you can mind your own business, Mr.

you go back to Southstream and lap up what’s left of it?” Vicky’s tone was polite,

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